The Marriage Debt (De Vos Mafia #2)(59)

She sucks in a breath. “But you—”

I grab her throat. “My family wanted revenge. You’re lucky they didn’t want your blood and were happy to marry you to me instead.” I lean in closer and closer until our lips are mere inches away again. “Now … are you ready to act like my fucking wife?”

Her lips part, her body straining against mine. “You only use me for your own pleasure … just to make me pay.” Her words sting, but her voice crackles and changes in pitch the closer my lips hover to hers.

“Or maybe … I’m playing with you for both our enjoyment,” I reply, our breaths mingling as I lean in for a kiss.

At first, it’s agonizingly slow, as I want her to know this isn’t just to punish her or to torment her. It’s amazing to push her buttons and watch her explode in rage. But there is something else I love even more. Watching her fall apart because of all the things I do to her. With my mouth as I kiss her lips, with my tongue as it swivels around inside her mouth, with my hands as they move from the desk to her waist and down her legs to peel up the sparkly gold dress she’s wearing.

It makes me pause and look down. “You’re wearing … something interesting.” I smirk. She looks beautiful. “Why?”

“Because it looks nice,” she replies, her lips still swollen from my kiss.

“Very nice…” I bite my lip in hunger. She really does know how to make me want her. Knows what makes me want to rip all the clothes off her body. And it doesn’t feel like a coincidence.

My hand slides underneath the dress. “You put this on for me, didn’t you?”

The blush that creeps onto her face already gives it away. “No, I just want to look—”

I plant a finger on her lips. “Stop lying.”

She swallows.

“I hate liars,” I say, looking down at her.

“Then you hate yourself,” she says.

That fucking stings like a knife to the goddamn heart. Why? Because I know it’s fucking true. But the fact that she knows hurts more.

She turns around, but I won’t let her walk away.

Instead, I pin her against the desk, my hand slipping around her throat again. I can do whatever I want when she’s turned her back on me, too. In fact, it’s even more enjoyable watching her through the large mirror behind my desk.

I want to do bad things to her, especially when she tells me I should hate myself. She makes it impossible not to. Because I want her more than anything, and I always told myself it’s because she’s a vixen, a bad girl in need of punishment for all the shit she did.

But now I finally have her, and it’s still not enough.

I want more.

More of everything.

More of her body, her pussy, her lips.

I want it all …

But what I want the most is for her to fucking want me back.

And she’s using it against me.

“You make me want to do bad things, Jill …” I whisper in her ear as her head tilts back. “Things you can’t even fucking imagine.”

“Tell me,” she whispers.

My hand wraps around her throat as the other slides up between her tits until I reach her face and part her lips with my fingers, pushing them down until my fingers enter her mouth and slide onto her tongue.

I’m not afraid she’ll bite.

In fact … I’m daring her to.

“I want to bury my cock inside your tight little ass right here on this desk,” I whisper into her ear. “Thrust it up your puckered hole until you moan my name. Shove it into your mouth when you’re on your knees … fuck this pretty little throat until I come. And even that’s not enough.”

She gasps as I squeeze her throat while my dick grows harder and harder against her ass.

“I want to fuck you day and night, tie you down on the bed, rope you to the ceiling, chain you to my floor. I want to slather you in my seed and make you choke on it.”

She shudders, her body covered with goose bumps as she wriggles her ass against my length, clearly turned on. It’s everything I always dreamed to do to her but couldn’t because she wasn’t mine.

But here she is, my fucking wife, ripe for the taking.

And I’m done fucking waiting until she’s ready.





Chapter 25





Jill



* * *



His fingers slide in and out of my mouth as his other hand curls over the collar around my neck, and I don’t even mind. Even though he’s cornered me, caught me in the act of trying to snoop into his business and find something I could use against him.

I should bite, fight, kick him.

Instead, I’m like a meek little lamb pushing herself up against her wolf.

Teasing him.

Coaxing the fangs to come out and bite me.

I know it’s dangerous. Playing with his feelings is like playing with fire, but what other choice do I have when he left me none?

I don’t protest as he hovers over my ear and presses a kiss right below.

The rumbling sound of his groan sets me off.

“Fuck me then.”

It comes out in a single breath, but the gravity of my words don’t go unnoticed for either of us. I don’t say it lightly, and I know what it means. What I’m asking.