Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(55)

Then he slides his fingers inside me again.

Arching my back, I suck in a breath. My eyes widen. He crooks his fingers and hits a sensitive spot inside me, rubbing against it with maddening slowness, intently watching every expression that crosses my face.

I can’t look away from him. I want to, but I can’t.

Somehow, he’s got me trapped in the weight of his powerful gaze. A fly caught in amber.

A desperate little insect snared in a hungry spider’s web.

And for all my pride and independence, for all the times I swore I’d never allow myself to be owned again, I find it impossible not to give him what he’s demanding.

Staring into his eyes and breathing hard, I whisper, “Yes. All of it. I want you to fuck me. I want you to kiss me everywhere. I want your hands and your mouth and every other part of you, and I honestly despise myself for wanting it, but I do. So please make me come now. I’ll get back to hating us both after.”

“You said you downgraded the hate to dislike.”

“That was before I married you. Now, all bets are off.”

When he grins, his smile victorious, I snap, “But no spanking. If you ever try to hit me, I’ll consider it a declaration of war, and that will be the end of you!”

He growls, “Fuck, it’s hot when you threaten to kill me.”

Then he crushes his mouth to mine and ravages it as he works his fingers in and out of me, thrusting them deep, moaning into my mouth when I spread my legs wider.

When I come, it’s with fireworks behind my eyelids and a full-body jerk that makes one of my shoes go flying. Quinn swallows my moan, humming his approval into my mouth and holding me against him, a Popsicle viper impaled on his huge hand.

I convulse and clench around his fingers until finally, I collapse backward, shaking and spent. He holds me up with that one strong arm around my back, slips his fingers out of me, and slides them into his mouth.

As I watch in dizzy, breathless astonishment, he lazily licks his slick fingers dry, savoring my taste.

Watching me with hooded eyes, he growls, “That’s my good girl.”

And oh, what that does to me. The golden shimmer of happiness that floods my cells. It’s ridiculous how soft and melting I become, as pliant as a green blade of grass under the spring sun.

But I’m not a blade of grass.

I’m a blade. Period.

I’m a strong, capable, grown-ass woman who intimidates Mafia men so much, they can’t even look me in the eye.

My voice shaking with emotion, I say, “I’m not good and I’m not a girl. I’m not yours, either.”

Chuckling softly, he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll concede the first two. But you’re definitely mine.”

Just for an added little fuck-you to make his point, he drawls, “Mrs. Quinn.”

That right there tells me all I need to know about how this marriage is going to work.

I never knew before this moment that enemies with benefits is an actual thing.





22





Spider





I’m glad the hotel is close to the church, because with every mile we drive and minute that passes, Reyna gets closer to a full-blown freak out.

She wants to crawl off my lap, but I haven’t let her. Instead, I hold her firmly in place as she hyperventilates and looks around wildly like a caged animal desperate for a way out.

There’s no way out for her, though. I’m taking this till-death-do-us-part thing very fucking seriously.

Which means she’ll have to kill me to get away.

But I won’t give her a reason to. I’ll be the opposite of everything her last husband was. I want her to learn that marriage to me isn’t the end of her life.

It’s only the beginning.

“Where are we going?” she says, staring out the window in rising panic.

I’m going to have to make her come again soon. She needs to calm down.

“The Ritz. I booked the honeymoon suite.”

She swallows and moistens her lips. Then she blurts, “Do you snore?”

I have to suppress a laugh at that. “To be honest, I have no idea.”

“Nobody’s ever told you?”

“Who would tell me?”

“Any woman you’ve ever slept with.”

I quirk my lips. “I don’t spend the night.”

She looks startled by that. “What do you mean? You’ve never had a long-term relationship?”

“My relationships can best be described as speedy disasters. Those were few and far between. I haven’t been committed to a woman in more than ten years.”

She examines my face in silence for a moment. I can see the wheels turning and know she wants to grill me for more information, but she doesn’t.

She looks away instead, nervously chewing the inside of her cheek.

“You can ask me anything,” I say, stroking my hand up her arm.

“It might be insulting.”

“As if that would be new.”

“Suit yourself. Here’s the question: did you…” She pauses to rethink it. “How have you been taking care of your needs for the last decade?”

“How have you been taking care of yours?”

“Romance novels and battery-powered devices.”