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“Anything,” he pants. He jerks his hip. “Whateer the fuck you want, Loni, it’syours.”

I’ll remember that.

He thinks he can control me because he wears the Order’s brand? Well, then I guess I’ll just have to control him by his cock.

It’s the only leverage I have.

So I use it. Alternating between lap at the head of his cock, sucking him deep, playing his balls, and stroking him with as tight a grip as I can manage, I worship his cock, enjoying the way he pants my name like it’s his favorite prayer.

“Fuck me,” he hisses, propping himself up on his elbow. “Holy shit. You got a mouth like a fucking vacuum cleaner, you know that?”

I smile around his dick.

He palms the back of my head, guiding me to take him deeper. Since his touch is gentle rather than demanding, I let him. The groan that escapes him when I hollow my cheeks, sucking a good three, four inches of him?

It’s music to my ears.

I keep going until Adrian starts bucking his hips a little, fucking my mouth. I know him. I know the signs that he’s about to come, and though he untangles his fingers from my hair, I surprise the both of us by letting him explode right into my mouth.

After I swallow, I rise up on my knees, thumbing some stray come away from the corner of my mouth.

The daze in his soft green eyes disappears almost immediately. Almost warily, he asks, “What is it you want from me, Loni?”

“Nothing,” I tell him, I mean it.

Honestly? I just wanted to have him at my mercy for once like he said—and, boy, did I.

Adrian isn’t an idiot. He accepts that answer readily, a single caress down my sweat-slicked side a silent ‘thank you’.

I curl up, my back to him, hiding my satisfied smile.

Panting softly, still lying on his back beside me, Adrian has only one last comment for me tonight: “Heading to the shower?”

Nah. Not tonight. “No need,” I tell him.

I’m not sure how he interprets that. Am I avoiding the same thing that happened two weeks ago when he followed me into the shower, losing all control, and fucking me under the shower spray? Or have I—for tonight at least—gotten over my irrational urge to wash him off after we’ve been intimate?

It doesn’t matter. Either way, he squeezes my hip. “Ready to sleep?”

With the endorphins rushing through me. “Yeah.”

It takes a little effort since his legs are probably weak as hell, but Adrian eventually gets up, turning off all of the lights. Climbing back into the bed, he drapes his arm over me, snuggling close. It’s still undeniably warmer in here than normal, the heat of his skin on mine burns me up… but I don’t push him away even as he mumbles softly, “Love you, my wife.”

I don’t answer him.

But I don’t tell him that I hate him again, either.

Why bother? He’ll only tell me in that smug tone of his that I’m lying.

And, damn it, he’d beright.

SEVENTEEN

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

LONI

It’s July 24th. I’m alone, and I’mfurious.