Ravage (Dance With My Demons, #3)

by Steph Macca

You're going to read—out loud to me—while I fuck you. Every time you stop, I stop. Got it?"

"It's my trauma that makes me cute."

I laugh loudly, startling both of them. A gun presses into my lower back, and I turn my head to send an amused look to the guard. "Do I scare you, little one?"

Damon: In about twenty seconds, I'm going to unlock your door. Damon: We're going to play a game. Damon: You run. Damon: I catch you.

To be able to make him react like that, to watch his face twist in pleasure, it's an intoxicating feeling that I want to drown in.

There's a sense of pride in me at her protective outburst, followed by an even stronger desire to gut them both for even looking at her.

In my peripheral vision, I see her throw a punch, managing to get a guard in the nose. That's my fucking wife.