Page 63 of Shades of Ruin (Sharp Edges Duet #2)

F lames blaze bright against the black darkness of night, just like they did when my life was forever altered by a fallen angel with scorched wings.

Angélica has been the salvation I never knew I needed, healing all the shattered parts of my tainted soul.

And she’s allowed me to be the damnation she’s always wanted, corrupting her with the sweetest of sins.

We are a perfect union of broken pieces forged together in hellfire, and Hell is exactly where we are going to play tonight.

It’s Halloween, and my wife and I are celebrating the anniversary of the night we met like we always do—kinky fuckery at Pandemonium with our closest friends.

As usual, fucking Finn has made masks and costumes a requirement for demon members and their significant others.

I shouldn’t even be surprised at this point, but Finn always finds a way to crawl under my skin.

Maybe Finn and I should just fuck away our mutual aggression like he and Ashford finally did.

I doubt my angel would have any hesitation watching that scene play out.

I’ve discovered one of her secret kinks is watching me dominate other men.

I’m such a respected sadist at Sucre in Paris that many of the subs vie for my attention.

On occasion, Angélica allows me to give the boys a little taste of my talents.

Playing with other girls is a well-established hard limit. I still remember Angélica threatening to cut off my cock and feed it to me if I touched another woman. And the thought of my vicious wife threatening me with knives and violence gets me hard every time I think about it.

Speaking of knives, To Die For has been a brilliant success in the Parisian culinary world.

It’s rare for an unknown chef to rise to popularity so quickly, but Mrs. Greyson deserves every accolade and raving review she gets and so much more.

I’m incredibly proud of her, and more importantly, she’s proud of herself.

She finally sees the talent and potential that I knew she had inside her all along, and she’s now exactly where she belongs.

One of my wife’s unique concepts at To Die For is a special off-menu night where only a select few are invited to attend. These nights are completely random and subject to the availability of certain rare ingredients that we don’t source often.

Our last off-menu night was a huge success, coinciding with the tragic disappearance of one of the local mayor-elects.

The man had long been accused of sex crimes involving minors, but nothing could ever be proven.

Well, until Ashford found us all the evidence we needed.

Justice was served—and it was quite delicious according to our delighted patrons.

My wife is an outstanding chef, but an even better humanitarian.

We split our time between Paris and Chicago, alternating every three months so that we can manage the restaurants and give Toby the best of both worlds.

Toby has a tutor that he loves, and she’s able to keep him well-advanced in his studies in spite of our constant travel.

Angélica is learning French. She and Toby practice it every day.

In exchange, she’s teaching him Spanish, and he’s already far better at it than I ever will be.

We’re planning an extended trip to Colombia soon.

Angélica’s father died unexpectedly , and she is almost ready to make peace with her mother now that her father’s threats and accusations aren’t hanging over her head anymore.

I think reconciling this part of her past will be the final piece in her journey to healing, and I’m proud of her for being brave enough to confront the horrors of what happened to her for the sake of finally burying them.

Toby is staying with my sister and Elia tonight.

It’s one of his favorite places to be other than the kitchen.

Lia is determined to marry Toby when she grows up, and she has stars in her eyes every time she looks at her adopted cousin.

It’s all sweet innocence for now, but I don’t know how any of us will deal with the trickiness of that situation if their feelings for each other grow as they do.

I guess we’ll wait a few years and brave that shit storm when it lands.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Angélica says as we walk the long drive to the entrance of Pandemonium.

I squeeze her hand, my fingers interlocked with hers. “Just thinking about everything we’ve been through.”

“No wonder you’ve got a scowl on your face,” she laughs.

“I’d walk through Hell all over again just to find you, little ruin.”

“Same,” she answers with a smile. And I know she means it. “Are you going to behave tonight?”

I scoff. “Definitely not. Are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

“I think you missed the memo,” I retort, running my fingers across the scorched feathers of her wings.

She and I are wearing the same costumes from the night we met.

“Angels are supposed to be innocent and pure.” We reach the large, ebony doors of Pandemonium, and I push her against them, her winged back colliding with the carved wood with a loud thud .

“I’ve never been pure.” She spreads her thighs, giving me a glimpse of her bare cunt underneath her short, scorched dress. “And where’s the fun in being innocent?”

“You’re going to ruin me all over again, aren’t you?” I slip my hand between her parted thighs and feel the slickness of her arousal coat my fingers. “Such a naughty fucking girl,” I growl.

The doors suddenly swing open behind us. We topple to the floor, Angélica landing beneath me with my hand still tucked between her thighs.

“Jesus, Greyson,” Finn huffs, his hand still on the door handle. He’s dressed and masked in gold again, clearly aware that the color accentuates his fair features and blonde hair. “Can’t you wait until you’re inside to fuck your wife?”

Realizing that we’ve been caught in a compromising position, I pull Angélica’s dress back down her legs and try to help her up as gracefully as possible. “Most people wait for a goddamn knock before opening a door, Finnian,” I seethe as I tug my clothes and demon mask back into place.

“I could hear you breathing on the other side of the doors and didn’t see any need to wait,” Finn snaps.

“I’m sorry if my body’s need for oxygen offends you.”

He smiles at me, the bright white of his teeth almost too perfect. “Apology accepted.”

“Remind me again what Ashford sees in you?” I huff before pushing past him and dragging my angel toward the bar.

“You shouldn’t tease him so much,” Angélica scolds while I order a sangre dulce and an old-fashioned.

“Why not? He’s an absolute twat, and it’s fun to torment him.

” I hand her a drink and lean back against the counter to ridicule the absurd choices of Halloween costumes and masks this year.

Too many people went for an animal theme, and I’ve seen enough ears and fluffy, butt plug tails to last me a lifetime.

My wife settles me with her sternest glare. “Are you ever going to outgrow playing the bully?”

“Never. Especially when I know how much it turns you on.”

“It does not,” she argues, baiting me by sinking her teeth into her full bottom lip.

“Oh angel,” I tut, using my thumb to free her lip from her teeth. “What have I told you about lying?” I slide my hand into her curls right at the nape of her neck and tug sharply. “Is someone looking to get punished tonight?”

She bats her dark lashes as the prettiest warmth flushes her cheeks. “Yes, Master Greyson.”

I can’t ignore the way my cock jolts at her words. “That’s a shame because I had an anniversary present planned for you tonight,” I tease, my voice low and tempting. “I would hate for you to lose it for bad behavior.”

I see the exact moment my wife realizes it was a mistake to try to manipulate me into giving her what she thinks she wants, and she backs down quickly. “You got me a present?” she asks with sweet anticipation.

I pull on her hair a little bit harder. “Apologize for lying, and maybe I’ll let you have it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, angel, not like that,” I tut. “Slide your hand between your thighs.”

“Why?” she asks, instantly suspicious.

“Because I want you to stroke that pretty, pink cunt and show me how soaked you are.” She keeps her eyes fixed on me as she obeys my command. “Good. Now thrust your fingers inside your hole and get them nice and wet for me.”

She’s nervous, her eyes darting around the room to see if anyone is watching, but she listens and pushes her fingers into her pussy.

A little moan falls from her lips as she fucks herself with her fingers.

I enjoy the gorgeous sight of it for a minute, letting her get right to the edge before pulling her back.

“Stop—slip them out now.”

Whimpering, she tugs her fingers from her cunt. “Let me see,” I demand. Her cheeks flush a deep red as she holds up three fingers, her arousal dripping down the sides of them like icing. “Good girl. Now stick those fingers in your mouth and suck them clean.”

“Grey,” she protests in embarrassment.

“Do it, or you’ll lose your present.”

Rolling her eyes, she brings her fingers to her lips. She makes a point of starting on her middle finger, sucking it between her teeth and swirling her tongue loudly enough that I can hear. She pulls her finger free with a loud pop and sticks it up for me to see.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors with the attitude, Mrs. Greyson.”

Her eyelids flutter the way they always do when I call her that. Without stalling, she shoves all three fingers into her mouth and licks them clean before holding them up.

“There,” I purr, leaning down to nip at her spit-soaked fingertips. “ Now you’re sorry.”

“Grey,” she pleads, desperate for what I promised her.

I could force her to wait, but I’m not feeling that cruel. “Does my little ruin want a trick or a treat tonight?”