I didn’t want to waste an ounce of life that Lila gave me.
Pressing play on my phone, Evie’s blue eyes popped open and her arms jerked at the restraints as “One Track Mind” by Thirty Seconds to Mars flowed through the headphones. I pressed a finger to my mouth to keep her quiet as my other hand slid the bandana over her chin and into her mouth.
She bit down on it. Eyes wide. Chest heaving with each exhilarating breath.
I worked my way down her naked body, sucking her taut nipples and dipping my tongue into her navel as she writhed beneath my touch. A twisted, aching part of me needed to erase the memory of another woman in my arms. Although Evie knew nothing about that, I still needed to make it right in my own head.
The seductive song played for her as I took my one-track mind between her legs. Her back shot off the bed into the most beautiful arch of flesh as I took her to the edge.
Over … and … over … again.
As soon as I released her restraints and the bandana from her mouth, she tore off the headphones and grabbed my face, kissing me harder than I had kissed her … possibly ever. Every time her tongue thrashed against mine, she moaned.
A hungry.
Needy.
Starving moan.
She shoved me onto my back and navigated down my body. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and let her take me to another world … one of her parallel universes where all I felt was pleasure.
Her mouth wrapped around me.
Her eyes peering up at me, making me feel like a king—not the man who needed to touch another woman before he could fuck his own wife.
Before she took me to the finish line, I tugged her hair and sat up. She perched on her knees between my spread legs. I had never seen anything more beautiful than my Evie with mussed hair, on her knees naked for me, and her tongue making a slow swipe along her full lips. I reached for her bottle of lube and stared at it for a few seconds before shifting my gaze to her.
She did the same thing, trapping the corner of her lower lip between her teeth for a breath before relinquishing a single nod.
I died again. Who knew it could happen so many times in one life? I wasn’t sure if it was the Devil giving me permission to take any kind of pleasure in my wife’s body or if some higher power was giving me one last hurrah before taking my last breath.
Either way, I didn’t question it. Instead, I smiled at Evie as she eased onto her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder at me.
Screw the ringing in my ears.
To hell with my cursed life.
I embraced the “madness.”
One. Track. Mind …
Evelyn
“Mommy!” Anya climbed into the bed.
I peeled open my tired eyes, feeling a little disoriented, a lot sore everywhere, and utterly panicked about my current situation. As she hugged my neck, I took a quick inventory of everything.
The bedding was neat like Ronin had made the bed with me still in it. I couldn’t remember putting my nightshirt back on, but it was there along with a pair of (thankfully dry) panties. No lube, scarves, or bandana in sight.
“Good morning, sweetie.” I sighed, hugging her squirmy body.
As quickly as she ran into the room and woke me up, she jumped off the bed and ran back out to the living room.
Apparently, mission accomplished.
Filling the doorway was my sexy as hell husband with his hands tucked into the pockets of faded ripped jeans, a white wrinkled tee stretched across his broad torso, and a cocky grin hiding his secrets.
“Good morning.” He stayed in the doorway, shoulder pressed to one side.
I pushed myself up to a sitting position, cringing a bit.
“Sore?”
My gaze shot to his. I wish I could have seen a flicker of regret on his face … but I didn’t. If anything, he looked pretty proud of himself.
I rubbed my wrists. They weren’t bruised or marked in any way, but they were a bit tender to touch. “Nope. I’m good.”
I lied.
Seriously … every part of my body had been thoroughly enjoyed by him before he left me for dead. Okay, maybe not dead, but I’m pretty sure at some point I just passed out from exhaustion.
“You?” I tipped my chin up, feigning confidence and strength.
He pulled the neck of his shirt to the side, exposing some impressive bite marks, but not nearly as impressive as the carved lines he showed me when he turned and lifted his shirt, revealing the marred skin on his back.
“Not bad. Does it hurt?”
He released his shirt and turned back toward me, grunting a tiny breath through his nose while maintaining his shit-eating grin. “No.”
I nodded slowly, giving him a tightlipped smile.
“I made waffles. You coming?”
Standing sounded like a great idea, my backside was sore, but I sure wasn’t going to let Ronin know that. I eased out of bed, trying hard to keep a straight face. It was all fun and games until real life demanded things like … functioning body parts.
When your husband goes weeks without getting an erection for you, holding you, kissing you … you don’t say no when things start working properly again. And that was why I couldn’t move. I didn’t say no. Not once.
Not to anything.
Part of it was my own desire, my own need to feel as close as possible to Ronin. The other part, that made me completely submissive, was the look on his face every time I gave him a nod, a yes, and did exactly what he wanted me to do.
“You dressed me.” I eyed him while slipping on my robe, hoping my statement might distract him from seeing my tiny grimaces.
“I did. I cleaned you up. Forced you to take two ibuprofen and sang you a lullaby.”
I tied my robe sash and walked into his waiting arms, glancing up at him while wearing a grin. “A lullaby, huh?”
He nodded, grabbing my ass, forcing me to grimace. He eased his grip, grinning as if confirmation of my discomfort pleased him.
“Sadist.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
There it was … the look. It shone in his eyes like a beacon of hope, silently begging for me to say yes. For me to let him say it—those three words.
“Don’t.” I shook my head.
“You have to let me say it.”
“I will.” I lifted onto my toes and kissed the corner of his mouth while whispering, “Just not today. Now, feed me. I’m starving.”
Ronin led me to the kitchen by taking my hand the way he took my hand the day we met, just like he took my heart. Six years later, I continued to give him both.
“You should be hungry, after all that alcohol and … stuff last night.” He shot me a grin.
Stuff. It was definitely the stuff that made me feel famished.
I loved the stuff and the man serving me breakfast.
I loved the two kids on the floor, rolling themselves up in blankets like burritos. I loved the house, my job, Aspen, the start of fall, and my life.
On the days I wasn’t forced to think about Graham or acknowledge our past and our mutual connection to the present, I loved my life.
Every. Single. Second.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Two dozen roses arrived Monday at Clean Art.
“Who are they from?” Sophie clasped her hands at her chest and jumped up and down like they were for her. “I bet they’re from Ronin.”