Page 68 of Devour

“Oh, hubby.” I frowned. “You need to change careers. Maybe even churches.”

“I know,” he said with another sigh.

“Real quick. What is the first job you’d pick if you left yours?”

“I don’t—”

“Nope. Don’t think about it. First thing that pops into your head. Blurt it out.”

“Guidance counselor.” After a minute, he added, “Specifically, at a parochial school. Preferably, high school level.”

“See now that, I know you would be amazing at.”

“I could’ve said literally anything, and you’d think it was better,” he grumbled.

“True, but not because I’m opposed to you being a part of the clergy. I’m opposed to you being miserable, and this job makes you miserable. Anything else is better by default.”

“I hate it when you make sense.”

“I really think you’d feel better if you believed more in what you were doing.”

“On some level, I still do. It’s why I’m there. I just—” Such a long and tired sigh. “I haven’t lost faith. If we could simply trash all the hateful amendments and interpretations decreed by people, I wouldn’t feel so conflicted still.”

“Not to piss on your beliefs or anything, but living through your lot being fed to lions and roasted like bonfires only to burn witches and commit genocide really puts things into perspective,” I muttered.

“Honestly surprised no one accused you of being a heretic,” he chuckled.

“You really think I’d go quietly if I were? Self-preservation falls outside my moral code.” I offered a wide smile. “Though it is interesting to see how society changes over the ages. In some ways it is much better now, but there’s a long way to go. Good thing my degeneracy will outlast any current opinions.”

Hubby snorted a laugh at that. Sigh. So nice to see him in a better mood. We never really talked about how much I’d seen, or maybe I should say how long I’d been around. Even with nothing more said, his thoughts crackled ever so slightly like fire on a wet log. Thinking about me. Mostly me being alone. And him knowing how isolation felt, even if I’d been doing it much longer.

Then the mental door shut like a vault, but his whole mood shifted. His free hand glided from my head to my other arm, and he leaned closer to speak right in my ear. “You’ll always be my favorite degenerate.”

And I could not fight hunger any longer. Hubby felt better. Time to snack. I shifted to move in his arms, but he kept hold of my hand and nuzzled closer.

No.

Well, damn. He could count on me to listen, but he had to know I’d complain the entire time.

Why you gotta torment me? I’ve been good. And I added an audible whine for emphasis. Hungry over here, hubby. Trying not to be a jerk about it, but still.

You have been.

Hmph. I would much rather he let me snack than agree with me. Not nice. And not the same as praise. But once I scooted my back all the way against him, and if I tilted my head a bit more, oh yeah. Nice and deep inhale that moved my entire chest.

For someone who protested a moment ago, hubs did not stop me. Instead, he stroked up and down my arm until I got all tingly then moved to my shoulders and chest, occasionally grazing a nipple. When I lifted from the contact, he moved onto my hip and stroked down my thigh while he kissed my neck. Absolutely doing something for me, and burying my face into his shoulder hit the spot. Still hungry, though.

Hubby’s gotta be teasing himself more than me at this point, but too bad. He did this to himself. Since I couldn’t move forward into him, I pressed back to further meld our bodies. And now we were back to making me suffer. If he thought I would ignore him getting rock hard instead of grinding my ass into him, he was so wrong. He didn’t stop me, either. His warm breath caressed my skin as gently as his hand touched my thigh.

When his lips dragged across my neck for another kiss but parted to pant instead, my need went into overdrive. Whenever he enjoyed himself a bit more than he should, the desire surrounding him spiked and I was done for. My back arched and my whole body shivered while trying to satisfy my instinct. Not so much from the act of feeding itself, but from every emotion swirling inside him momentarily directed at me. And I feel so much better now. I’d say fuck him and his ability to do that to me, but I’ll never get tired of it.

“And you thought I was punishing you,” Eli snickered right in my ear.

“Keep it up. Next time, I’ll hold out until it’s unbearable for you.” Really hard to make threats sound menacing while still gasping, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

“No, you won’t,” he whispered. And he made sure to lower into his sexy voice to make his point extra clear.

No, I probably wouldn’t. Still couldn’t let him off so easy.

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