Page 7 of Satan's Naughty List
“I’m sorry,” he chokes, keeping his head lowered, eyes on the ground. “You’ve never made me doubt before. Never. I just…you’re the love of my life. I don’t think I’d be able to do this life without you.”
Grabbing the front of his shirt, I yank him into me. Our lips smack together in a dirty kiss, the kind that forces you to unleash everything. He attempts to pull back, but I reach around his body, fist the back of his shirt, and tug him flush against me. He grunts, stumbling slightly. While he’s a bit bigger than me, I know how to handle this burly man. Using my free hand, I grasp his thick beard, forcing his lips back to mine.
“Fuck,” he growls. Before I can react, I’m being slammed against the wall. His tattooed hand grasps my throat and squeezes the sides as his other hand fingers my belt loops. Teeth graze my throat, air meets the wet spot and sends a cool shiver down my back as I struggle to think. My hand is still embedded behind his back. Migrating it down, I grip his tight ass. Squeezing, I moan against him.
I have to show him I’m not going anywhere.
“You’re mine,” he grunts. His jean covered cock roughly rubs against mine. It’s rough, his hips push, shoving against my erection as it threatens to bust the seams.
“I’m yours,” I assure. “You’re also mine.” He grunts in agreement. Teeth gnash, lips bust, jeans get pulled off.
“Get your ass in the shower.” Shoving me into the wall harshly, my head bangs as he steps back. I don’t hesitate as I step behind the fogged glass.
He would absolutely tan my ass if I didn’t do as he demanded. Warm water cascades down from the waterfall attachment, hammering on my tight muscles. Coiled harshly, the water soothes away the tenseness in my body. The toll of the day finally settling after everything. Looking at my feet, pink filth is pushed off me, cleansing away the physical reminder of what I witnessed. Unfortunately, it’s the mental shit that I won’t be able to get reprieve from.
My head tips back, eyes falling shut as I let the droplets run down my face, washing away any traces of external sadness. I know my hair is crusty with blood, the light streaks turned pink from the incessant grabbing and pulling. The sliding door opens again, still, I keep my head facing toward the ceiling. It shuts quietly, the gentle click of the latch closing. Bare, calloused hands drag up my body. My muscles clench, my jaw ticking as I force myself to not look at him.
I love my husband more than anything, yet I can’t even bring myself to see his eyes. The disappointment that’s going to reflect right back at me. Sighing, I turn my back toward him and reach for the shampoo.
“Here,” he mutters, grasping my shoulder to stop me. His large frame steps around me, cock hardened and waiting for attention. Rolling my eyes up his body, his face shows the opposite of disappointment. Bottom lip tucked between his teeth, hands lathering soap, and his eyes hold copious amounts of desire. If his dick wasn’t the tell, the whirlpool is his deep blues would absolutely be my demise.
“Turn,” he rumbles, a soapy hand grasping my shoulder. Doing as I’m asked, my front is exposed to the water as he works my hair from behind me. His short nails dig into my scalp, sweeping through the strands of crusted blood. Opening my eyes, I can see the pinkish lather slipping down the walls next to me.
“It’s not always that bad, Pax,” he mutters, turning me around again. “Rinse.” Complying, I reach up and scrub my hair free of the cleanser.
“You’re used to it. I didn’t want to be a blood catcher. You can agree that I’m more useful behind a computer.” Huffing, I look up at my husband. He stares down at me harshly, brows furrowed in concentration.
“I would agree that you’re much more useful in my bed,” he grunts, pushing his hips forward. “I’d be lying if I said the dried blood look wasn’t doing it for me.” I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me.
“Drew,” I sigh, shaking my head. I open my mouth, but two fingers are shoved in it.
“Suck,” he demands, pushing them further. Swallowing so I don’t choke, I lap at his bitter fingers. “You’re done talking. It’s only going to lead to a session where you say you’re not worth it or some bullshit. You know better than that. So, I’ll just have to show you again how much you mean to me. If you want a degradation session, fine. Now, wet those fingers for me, dirty cock whore.” Moaning around his digits, I let him work them in my mouth, dragging more saliva from me.
My lids threaten to shut, but his other hand wraps around my throat tightly. Balls growing heavy as my cock hardens between us, Nomad’s hips shift as he plants his erection against mine. They rub aggressively, the water creating an odd friction that I’m definitely not against.
His fingers pop out of my mouth, saliva dragging with them as he rubs them over my nipples. “Shit,” I hiss, bumping forward to rub against his cock.
“That’s right, dirty boy. You’re going to be a good little cum whore for me, right?” He grunts, reaching between us and wrapping his big hand around us both.
“Yes,” I gasp as he runs his fingers over our slits, dipping his finger in slightly. Jerking, he laughs while an involuntary whimper escapes me.
“You’ll do more than that.” His tight grip latches around me, pumping me to full length. “I love this cock.” Pearly white teeth meet me before he pulls me forward by my throat. Lips gnashing together, he practically devours me. Biting, sucking, licking, he works my mouth as his hand rubs me toward climax.
“Stop,” I grunt, trying to pull away. He smiles against my mouth, head shaking slowly.
“Is that your safe word?” He whispers, kissing down my throat as his fist constricts my length. Holding me solid against him, the question hangs in the balance between us, his breathy kisses skate over my throat. I don’t want him to stop. Stopping him would be the biggest edging he’s ever given me.
If he’s willing to have me like this, then I’m not going to be the one to stop him.
“No, sir,” I retort. Straightening, he looks into my eyes.
“Good boy.” He smacks my ass before taking a step back. “I want you showered, prepped and on the bed in ten minutes. If you’re not there, ass up and waiting for me, you’re in for a punishment.”
Chapter Seven
I’veneverseenhimfinish a shower so quickly in my life. By the time I start on my hair, he’s pushing out and drying off. Laughing, I scrub off the grime of the day. Instead of just having motor oil, I’m also covered in blood from my husband and the runaway girl.
Since the previous day, Techy and I have been awake for almost twenty-four hours. While I want nothing more than to bunker down in the sheets and snuggle my man, I need to show him that I’m serious. He’s not going anywhere.
