Page 153 of Bedeviled

SMACK.

I jolt at the hot lash of Memnon’s hand against my ass. He rubs away the sting, and beneath his touch, an alluring warmth spreads.

“That’s for drinking unknown substances when you know better,” he says.

I’m about to straighten, but Memnon splays his free hand across my back, pressing me into the table in a way that’s as maddening as it is delicious. “Ah, ah,” he says, leaning close to my ear, “we’re not done.”

SMACK!

Another slap against my ass, and this time I cry out, my pussy clenching at the terrible, wonderful heat spreading across my core.

Surely I don’t like this?

“That’s for placing a contraceptive charm on your wedding ring.”

I stiffen. He knows about that?

He knocks my legs apart, his magic dragging his own clothes off him.

“How did you⁠—?”

My words are interrupted by the hot thrust of his cock as it enters me. It’s not gentle. There is in fact nothing about this moment that is nearly so romantic as the words we exchanged outside.

“Little witch, you better make sure you have protected yourself every which way against me if you don’t want my children,” he says as he thrusts into and out of me, “because I think I’ve discovered my new fixation.”

The horror of that should ruin the moment, but if anything, it seems to further turn me on, heightening the stakes.

He pulls out of me and flips me over, my body splayed out for him.

“Legs on my shoulders,” he commands.

I’m lifting my legs before I can even think better of it.

Memnon steps back into my space, reentering me with a single, brutal thrust that has me gasping.

My breasts bounce and the massive dining table begins to screech as Memnon pounds into me.

He gazes down at me, his hair swaying, sweat beading at his temples. And he’s glorious, his body rippling like waves on the water.

He grins, clearly overhearing the thought, before his eyes drop to my chest, and his gaze heats.

Making a swift decision, Memnon grabs my legs and bends them back against my body. The angle makes me feel obscenely exposed to him, but he’s not even looking. He dips down and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard on it.

A shuddering sound leaves my throat. My hands find his head, but before my fingers can thread through his hair, he moves away from my breast and grabs my arms by the wrists.

His chest lifts, and he moves away enough to pin my hands over my head. “You’re going to take me like this,” he says.

The position puts me entirely at his mercy, and it’s mercy he doesn’t spare on me. Thrust after thrust he drives into me as far as he can go, his movements relentless. My breasts continue to bounce in undignified ways, and I’m making even less dignified noises.

Leaning back down, he presses a lingering kiss to the tattoo he gave me.

“Tell me you want my child,” he whispers against my skin.

He’s out of his Goddess-damned mind. “I want another tattoo,” I say instead.

Memnon leans in close. “I can arrange that—as soon as I see a little swell to your belly.”

He shoves himself all the way to the hilt. It’s toe-curlingly good. I really cannot be held accountable for things I say and do while this man’s dick is inside me.