Page 45 of Their Deviant Love
“Did you just lick me?” I ask him, not opening my eyes.
“Yep. It’s time to get up. I made you breakfast.”
“You cooked?” I peek open an eye, and I’m greeted by the breathtaking sight that is Connor O’Malley. Blonde hair, greeneyes, and those damn cheekbones. One dimple shows when he smiles down at me.
“You need to eat. We skipped dinner last night,” he says.
“We skipped dinner because you fucked me all afternoon until I passed out.”
“Are you complaining?” Connor raises a single brow at me.
“No.” I laugh. “That is not something I’d ever complain about.” Sitting upright on the bed, I look around the room. Bright light seeps through the curtains. “What time is it?”
“Eight.”
“Shit. I have to get up,” I tell him.
“Why?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment at nine thirty.”
“Aurora, stop.” Connor is on me in seconds. His hands cup each side of my face as he searches for God only knows what. “Are you sick? What’s wrong?”
“No, I just need to get on birth control,” I explain.
“What?”
“It’s a little pill. People who have sex and don’t want to have babies use birth control, Connor. And you and me, we have a lot of sex.”
“I know what it is. I mean, why do you want it?” he asks.
“Because it’s either I get on birth control or we stop having sex,” I reply. “We’re eighteen, Connor. We are not ready to be someone’s parents.”
“Birth control it is then, because there is no way in this world I’m going to stop fucking you,” he says. “But, um, we need to keep the fact you’re on birth control on the down low.”
“From who? And why would anyone care?”
“From everyone. People will care, Aurora, because we’re Catholic. Some of the people in the organization take that shit real serious.”
“Okay, but do they really think they’re all getting through the pearly gates? Your organization is built on blood, Connor. Crime, murder, mayhem—all of that.”
He can’t be serious right now.
“I go to confession, Aurora. I’m going through those gates. So are you, because I do confess for you,” Connor says, as if I should know this about him.
When does he go to confession? He’s bullshitting. I’m with him almost 24/7 and the only thing we’ve ever done in a church is more sinning. Besides, he doesn’t even know the list of things I would need to confess.
“I don’t think it works like that, Connor. You can’t confess for me and have my sins absolved.” I laugh. “Also, you’re supposed to learn from your mistakes.”
“I have learned. I didn’t kill anyone yesterday.” He smiles like he’s proud of that fact.
“Tell that to the guy who was hanging from that clock tower.” I snort. He’s delusional. I wonder if this is a symptom of that genetic thing. “We also need to contact Dr. Morgan and get your results.”
“I don’t like that you worry about me.”
“Well, that’s kind of what wives do.” I shrug. “Get used to it.”
“I love hearing that.” Connor leans in and presses his lips to mine. “My wife.”
