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“You wouldn’t fuck me? How rude.” His laughter dies instantly. His face like thunder. “I would if you kept your mouth fuckin’ shut.” Oh. That makes my heart race.
“You’re brave, you know that?” His voice is a threat and a promise. “Why?” “Because next time you lock yourself in a room with me and talk like that—” He steps closer, breath hot against my ear. “I’ll bend you over my knee and cut that attitude out of you. I’ll make you bleed for it.”
“I’m not missing out on monster dick if the opportunity arises.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “You already are.”
“Stephanie,” he cuts in, smirking. “You’d know, drunk or not, if I’d fucked you. You’d be covered in cuts and bruises. You wouldn’t be able to walk. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be questioning it. Because you’d feel it. I’d still be dripping down your thighs. So no, we did not have sex.”
“Fuck knows. But I’ve never had a clit-stimulated orgasm from a man before.” A slow, deadly smile spreads across his lips. “Never? Fucking hell. You shouldn’t have told me that, because I’m about to come in my boxers.”
“Because somehow, I wanted to show you how serious I am about this marriage. That it isn’t a game. That you fuckin’ own me, love. There’s only one way you’re getting your last name back, and that’s by becoming a widow.”
“I want you in my mouth, Finn,” I murmur against his lips, tasting whiskey and heat. His voice drops. “Get on your knees then, wife.”
“I just want my wife to soak my face before I stretch her on my cock.”
“Call another woman darlin’ again, and neither of you will be walking out of here alive,”
“I love you, temptress. More than I can stand. More than I ever thought I was capable of. I thought love was a weakness. I thought it would destroy me. But you—” My voice fractures, my throat burning as I press my forehead to hers. “You’re the only thing that’s ever made me want to fucking live.”
