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Dom swallows and keeps his eyes fixed on me. “Sounds like your pet agrees with me.”
“She does.” I keep touching her fondly, loving her response to a situation that would cower a lesser woman. “Her birthday is coming up. Now we’re through with punishments, I’d like to arrange a special night for her.”
“You call this not a punishment?” His hands fist in his lap. “I made an oath, Rafe. I won’t break it to her.”
I nod, having suspected as much. “I’m not offering you to fuck her, brother,” I stress the word, knowing Dom’s felt out of place since the showdown he missed.
Which is the same reason he sat across the desk and witnessed Willow’s punishment. Not because he wants to fuck her—we’ve already been there, and Dom has his own little problem to deal with—but because I need to remind him who rules our world. Despite my love for the man, these last weeks could have ended with us all dead for the distractions he has let take precedence over our work.
“I know,” he murmurs, finally looking at Willow. “It’s not that you’re not beautiful, you’re stunning and I know you know that.” He swallows again, still holding her gaze. “But I’ve promised Thalia—”
As if summoning the demoness healer, my office door rattles. A moment later the previously locked door swings open, a slim bladed knife embedded in the keyhole. Thalia’s face reddens as she stares between Willow who smiles and waves from her kneeling position at my feet, back to my face where she emanates disgust, and to Dom … and that’s where her expression hovers between distrust and disappointment.
Silence reigns as he keeps his back to her and stares at me, self-loathing written all over him.
When they’ve stewed enough I give him a slight nod. “Impressive. Will you see about a new lock after?” I ask him cordially.
“After what?” Dom’s teeth grate, and Willow winces.
I frown at him. “After you’ve fixed things with Thalia. Get your head in the game, man,” I admonish him, fighting my own smile.
Dom shifts so fast in his seat his actions are almost a blur. “Fuck,” he swears, already on his feet and aiming to follow her abrupt exodus. “Excuse me.” He bolts for the door, no mean feat for a heavyset man, slamming the lockless thing with the blade still embedded in it.
“That wasn’t nice,” Willow whispers, tilting her head to one side. “Are we still on punishments? Or can we move onto what we need?” Her eyes glow with desire, and my cock responds as she traces her lips with the tip of her pink tongue.
I lean down to capture her mouth with mine and slide my palm between her thighs until her liquid core coats my skin. I push two fingers deep into her, loving the way she contracts on my hand. “Perhaps if you come for me before I count to twenty, we can find out how you fit across my desk.”
“Oh God,” she pants, rocking her hips in time to my gentle thrusts as they grow harder. I work my fingers faster to her cries. “Yes, please, Rafe.”
“Good girl.” I kiss her languorously, taking the time to taste and savor her. “Now sit there and come prettily for me so I can blow across these pretty lips while you moan my name.”
Spoiler: she doesn’t make it to double figures before she ruins my carpet.
I watch her drip, and wipe my fingers on her stomach. Fuck, I love this woman. “Perhaps we have time for a little more punishment after all, Wife. Ass in the air, tongue on the mess you just made.”
Willow pants at me, swaying as she slips down to the carpet, licking the wet spot like a kitten. I grip her ass and trace my fingers around her dark hole.
“See if you can keep quiet while I spank your cunt until you orgasm, and I promise I won’t fuck your ass first,” I whisper, leaning down to lick along her spine.
Willow cries out at the contact, and arches.
Too easy.
Epilogue
Six Weeks Later
Willow
Since handing Enzo over to Konnor and finally getting Seamus out of the picture, we have lived in peace. It’s strange really. Not having to worry that at any moment something is going to go horrifically wrong. Going to bed and waking up with Rafe has become a ritual. No more sleeping or waking alone for me.
Except this morning. Rafe was already gone from our bed when I woke but I knew he would be. He has been planning a party to celebrate my birthday for the past two weeks, even though I have told him numerous times that it really isn’t necessary. He won’t listen, though, insisting that his wife deserves to be celebrated. And so the madness began.
He won’t let me help either, even though this is my specialty.
“Are you going to stay in bed all day?” Thalia asks from the doorway, Regina standing beside her.
Things between us will probably never be the same again but I can say I am relieved that Regina no longer sequesters herself to her room for days on end. She isn’t the happy, vibrant woman I met what feels like a lifetime ago, but every day I see a little more of her former strength returning.
