Page 53 of Devil’s Reign

She’s still trembling in my arms, flushed and wrecked, my necklace at her throat catching the light with every ragged breath. And I know—she’s not just under my skin. She’s buried there. When I pull out of her, I watch my cum leak down her thighs. She follows my gaze, her eyes widening almost comically before her palm connects with my chest, shoving me away.

“You didn’t use a condom!”

Her anger sparks my own, because I never fuck without protection. And yet here I am, about to explain myself for doing exactly that.

“Condoms were the last thing on my mind,” I bite out. “And you weren’t exactly begging for one either.”

She narrows her eyes at me, and that look is enough. I yank my pants up, then spin away from her with a muttered curse. The walls feel like they’re closing in as my mind scrambles for a possible solution.

Morning-after pills. I take my phone out to text Boris to get some, but my thumb hovers over the screen.

Getting her pregnant would be my best chance at claiming her. Really claiming her. And I consider it… way longer than I fucking should. Another curse slips out as I finally send the text.

“You don’t fucking walk out on me!” Melani snaps behind me. I glance back at her, and everything quiets in my head, my anger draining despite my frustration as she walks bow-legged towards me, still beautifully disheveled. “You fucked me without a condom, and you’re pissed that I’m upset about it?”

I don’t answer. I just scoop her up bridal style. She gasps in outrage and smacks my shoulder. “How fucking dare—you can’t just pick me up when I⁠—"

“You weren’t complaining earlier,” I interrupt, a smile tugging at my lips.

She pauses for a moment. “Oh, so what? Are you not mad anymore? Just like that?” She rolls her eyes at me. The impertinence.

“I’ll get the Plan B pill. We’ll be fine.” I push open my bedroom door and walk us inside, making a beeline for the bathroom.

The corner of her eye twitches. “Pregnancy isn’t the only risk, you know.”

“I’m clean. I never fuck without a condom. Are you?”

She glares at me. “You’re pushing your luck.”

I almost laugh. Instead, my smile widens, and I lift a brow at her. “Is that a no?”

“Of course not,” she mumbles. “Obviously, I’m clean. I’ve only ever had sex with one other man, and that was over two years ago. And we used a condom,” she adds testily, but I barely hear the last part. Only one man?

My grip on her tightens, and a primitive, deeply irrational flame lashes through my chest. “I’m going to erase him from your mind and body,” I vow.

She looks at me, perplexed. “You saying shit like that makes me confused.”

Fitting. Because sometimes I confuse myself when it comes to her. I had every intention of putting distance between us after last night, after how viscerally I reacted to her. Instead, I spent my entire drive to Vasily’s browsing for a fucking necklace on my phone. I went through hundreds trying to find the right one. Nothing but perfection would do.

I set her gently on the edge of the sink counter, then move to the tub and run the taps. The sound of rushing water fills the room. I dip my hand in, testing the temperature, adjusting until it’s hot enough to soothe but not scald. Steam coils into the air, carrying the scent of the soap I pour under the stream, letting it foam up. When the tub is nearly full, I shut off the taps and turn back to her.

She’s watching me with that quiet, measuring expression she gets. I can practically hear the questions hovering on her tongue, held back for now.

“Get in,” I tell her, my voice low.

She blinks at me, like she’s surprised I’m doing this, then slides carefully off the counter. “Fine,” she huffs.

Her knees wobble slightly when she lands, but I catch her with a hand at her hip, steadying her. My cock stirs with interest despite having just emptied itself into her completely. “Careful now,” I hear myself whisper.

“We’re long past being careful,” she replies in a hushed voice.

She makes quick work of taking off her remaining clothes, then sinks into the water with a sigh. My jaw locks as I watch her, foam clinging to her skin, my necklace still resting against her throat.

I should walk away, let her bathe alone. I don’t need to get any more attached than I already am. But I can’t move. Instead, I crouch at the side of the tub and sweep the wet strands of hair back from her face, my fingers lingering too long. She tilts her head into my touch without a word, eyes fluttering shut. She must have decided to let our argument go for now. That’s my girl.

I run my hand through her hair over and over in soothing strokes until she sighs again and opens her eyes.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”