All Chapters of The Devil's Wedding Ring : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

 I had eaten the meal under his watchful eye, showered in the guest room to avoid the weight of our shared bedroom, and dressed in a simple, high-collared black dress that felt like mourning clothes. By the time I walked back downstairs, Sarah’s car was already humming in the driveway. "If you're not comfortable," Cillian said, catching my shoulders at the door, "you don't have to go. I can cancel it. I don't like that you're out already, but Sarah insisted it was urgent to show your face in a positive light." "Sarah can take care of me, and I can take care of myself, Cillian. You don't need to worry." "I still do," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "With everything being said online... it doesn't feel right having you leave my side." "Still... I have to face it," I said, pulling away slightly. "Maybe being seen at work will help quell the rumors." 

"Here, take..." Sterling offered me his handkerchief, a square of high-quality silk that smelled faintly of cedar and expensive tobacco. "You will need that..." He gestured vaguely toward my face, where I could feel the heat of a blooming bruise and the sticky trail of drying blood. "Cillian won't want me hurting you, I don't want my death to come faster," he added like he was reading my mind. I have never been in close proximity with him except once, I don't want to be, not when he frustrated the hell out of Cillian every time. But then, am I supposed to care about living right now? I began to wipe my face clean with his handkerchief while the car moved along on asphalt.  My phone began to ring, it was Cillian.  " Don't take that call, I don't want to hear his voice." Sterling said. " I can take you to him like I'm already doing but I don't want to hear his voice, not in the least fond of him." He said like I

I read the text over and over, the blue light of the screen searing the words into my retinas, before another one slipped in, the notification banner dropping down "And you might want to know about Jaxson's stepbrother. I don't think you know who he is."Panic rose from my throat, raw and acidic. It wasn't the anger I should have felt at Sterling for chatting me up after last night’s chaos. It was pure, unadulterated panic. What was he saying? My heart hammered against my ribs as I swallowed hard, reading the message over and over again until the words lost their meaning and became nothing but jagged shapes."What's that?"I jumped, nearly dropping the phone. I hadn't heard the door open. I turned to see Cillian standing in the doorway. He didn't wait for an answer; he advanced into the room, "It's Sterling. He texted me," I reported, my voice trembling."Texted you?" he asked. A frown deepened on his face, manifesting more as a dark omen than simple surprise. He reached out and took

 "Ahhh..." The sound escaped me, a raw, jagged vibration of pleasure that filled the moonlit silence of the room. I was pinned beneath the weight of his obsession, my legs splayed wide and helpless as Cillian knelt between them. He wasn't just touching me; he was feasting on me. His face was buried deep in the junction of my thighs, his tongue rhythmic and relentless, swirling against my clitoris with a friction that made my vision fracture into a thousand points of silver light. "Uh..." I tumbled, my head thrashing against the silk pillows. My hands reached out blindly, finding his head, my fingers tangling in the dark, thick strands of his hair. I wasn't trying to pull him away; I was trying to anchor myself to the earth as he sent me drifting into the stratosphere. My eyes rolled back into my head, the lids heavy and flickering. My heart was beating so fast. Cillian’s hands were iron-tight on my lap

"Uh... Just something unimportant," he said, his voice instantly smoothing out into that calm, polished veneer he wore like a second skin. He pulled out a heavy oak chair, gesturing for me to sit. I walked across the kitchen and sat down gently.I watched him move toward the stove, noticing the slight tremor in his hand as he picked up a plate."Something unimportant, and you looked so serious over the phone," I probed lightly, my eyes tracking him. "I didn't know killing was part of your job, Cillian.""Well..." He began to dish out the breakfast he had prepared. It was a lavish spread, poached eggs resting on slices of thick, toasted sourdough, drizzled with a rich hollandaise sauce and topped with sprigs of fresh dill. Beside it sat a small pile of crisp, peppered bacon and half an avocado, sliced with ease. He set the plate in front of me along with a steaming cup of black coffee."It happens sometimes," he continued, finally meeting my eyes. "You make bad calls, you make good one