The Devil's Salvation: Final Epilogue (The Devil's Kiss #4)

by Gemma James

  “You said it’s your mother’s ring. Are the two of you close?”

  “We were, before she died.”

  Something clicked, and I recalled Ian mentioning her death years ago. “Cancer, right?” I said, my chest squeezing the breath from me.

  “She passed a few months after Liz.” He paused, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed hard, and I sensed him shutting down. “People die, Kayla.”

  “Tell me about Liz,” I pressed.

  “I don’t talk about her.”

  Each time we were together, he stole another piece of me. I wanted the same from him. Answers. An idea of what made him tick. Was that too much to ask?

  “You want this to work between us. You want me to stay and marry you, but you give me nothing in return. That’s hardly fair.”

  “I gave you three orgasms tonight. That’s hardly nothing.”

  Even though I heard the amusement in his tone, his words still irritated.

  “You’ve taken everything from me,” I said. “You literally turned my world on its head.”

  “I haven’t taken everything. Not yet.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your heart. You still hold it close, still guard it.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  He didn’t answer right away. “No.”

  I lifted my head. “Gage? I…you…”

  “Tell me.”

  “You have my heart.”

  He drew my face to his, and our lips met. “You still haven’t said what I want to hear.”

  “You still haven’t told me about Liz.”

  “You don’t quit, do you?”

  “Do you?” I countered. “You push and push until you get what you want. I’ve learned from the best.”

  His hands fell from my body. “She was my first. First everything. I was so fucking angry all the time, and she taught me how to let it out, introduced me to the deviant side of sex. We connected, understood each other.”

  “How did you find out about her and…”

  “Say his name.” The steel in his voice made me cringe. “If you can’t even say his name, then we have a problem. I’ll go mad knowing you still love him.”

  “I care about him, but I was so young when we were together, and we were barely together, Gage.”

  “In Texas,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Why didn’t you sleep with him?”

  I dropped my face to his chest with a groan. “Why are we talking about this? We were talking about you.”

  “This is about me. Now answer the damn question.”

  “Your anger is ruining this!” I was appalled at how close I’d come to admitting I loved him, but then he had to go and remind me why I shouldn’t love him at all.

  “And you’re inability to answer a simple question is making me jealous as fuck. I can’t stand the thought of you feeling anything for him. Now tell me! Why did you send him away?” He paused. “Or maybe you didn’t.” The timbre of his words grew deadly.

  “Gage,” I said, grabbing his face, “I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “But you wanted to. You’ve always wanted him, so why didn’t you fuck him?”

  “Because he deserved better!”

  “He deserved better?” He shoved me off and jumped from bed. “Better than you? Is that what you think? Perfect Ian Kaplan, golden boy of the century, can do no wrong, right?” The tall, rigid outline of his body towered over me, and I shrank away. “I’ve got news for you. He doesn’t deserve to breathe your name. He knocked up Liz. She was six weeks pregnant when he killed her. I can’t even think about it because it makes me so fucking mad I want to tear something apart!”

  I blinked, only now aware of the tears streaming down my face. “Gage…”

  “I saw you years ago, you know,” he said, his tone eerily calm. “During a rare visit when he and I pretended to fix things. You were so entranced by him that I wasn’t even a blip on your radar.” He paused, and the disquiet rang through the room so loudly, I was tempted to cover my ears. “He never got over you, and me destroying you would’ve destroyed him, but you fucking destroyed me instead. You gave me a glimpse of something I thought I wasn’t allowed to have. Fuck, Kayla, neither one of us deserves you.” He pulled on a pair of pants and then stomped toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Away, before I do something else unforgivable.” The door slammed in his wake, and his steps thundered down the hall. I was amazed the disturbance didn’t wake Eve.

  I sat in bed for a few moments, too stunned to comprehend what had just happened. Before I thought twice about it, I scrambled to my feet, wrapped myself in his satin sheet, and went after him.

  It was probably a dumbass move, but I wasn’t known for my rational decisions lately. I found him in the hall, his face against the wall, hands fisted at his ears. I tiptoed to his side. Complete darkness blanketed us, and the house was so still it unsettled me. Gage was too still.

  “How did you know the baby was his?” I was poking an angry tiger with that question, but I didn’t care—not if making him mad would get him to open up.

  “You really want to do this?” He kept his voice low, probably so he didn’t wake Eve.

  I let out a breath. “Yes. You can punish me all you want, hurt me if you need to, but I’m not dropping this. You demand all of me? Well I’m demanding all of you. Tell me everything.”

  He didn’t move, didn’t look at me, and at first I thought he was going to flat out ignore me. “I can still smell her blood, and maybe it's on my hands as much as his because I went after them that night. I knew she’d been with someone else, but when I found them together…I just lost it.” He tightened his fists further, as if he could squeeze the memory into nothing. “She died in my fucking arms, took everything good about me with her, and he never even knew about the baby.”

  I needed to touch him, possibly more than I’d ever needed to touch another man before. Tentatively, I smoothed my hand over his back, but he sprang out of reach.

  “You want to know why I hurt you? I did it because I couldn’t let go. It was all I saw at first. Him with his hands on her, and her blood all over mine.”

  “Gage…I’m…” I gulped, my eyes stinging.

  “Go back to bed, Kayla.”

  “No.”

  He pounded a fist on the wall. “I could lock you in the basement for the night.”

  “Do it.” God, why couldn’t he open up to me? Why was getting him to tell me anything like prying a bone from a rabid pit bull?

  He moved fast, like a snake striking unsuspecting prey, and hauled me into his arms. The sheet slid from my body, forgotten on the floor as his mouth crushed mine. His kiss silenced my protests as he carried me down the hall, thankfully in the opposite direction of the basement. He kicked the bedroom door shut behind us and threw me onto the bed, and his body followed. I became prisoner to his arms and legs as he slammed into me, his thrusts brutal while his mouth kept mine busy.

  Unlike earlier, this was fucking in its basest form.

  I couldn’t ask questions if he was screwing me like an animal. Logical thought fragmented, leaving me with scattered pieces of the things I needed him to tell me. Ian, Liz, baby, death…Gage’s brokenness. I’d never noticed that about him before. Thought I was the only broken one, and he was just the fucked up one.

  Focus. What were we talking…no, arguing about?

  My body betrayed me, and I stopped caring about anything other than the feel of him moving inside me. I came with a breathless cry, my hands fisting the pillows as I arched into him. This had to be a record. I’d never had so many orgasms in one night.

  And I never wanted it to end.

  His groan of release rumbled onto my lips, and in the afterglow of the explosion, he tucked me against him before sleep claimed us.

  11. Hesitant

  Neither of us mentioned our argument, but it colored every word we spoke, every movement we made within that house. Gage w
orked from home in order to keep an eye on me, but also because his business wasn’t the same since he’d gone to prison. Most of his clients had taken their accounts elsewhere, and he’d worked his ass off to regain the trust of the loyal few who stayed with him. I found it surprising he had any clients left after the scandal, but that was Gage; he inspired loyalty even when he didn’t deserve it.

  And that was the cause of my hesitation now. I gripped Eve’s tiny hand in mine and pressed a finger to my mouth.

  “Are we playing a game, Mommy?” she whispered.

  “Shh.” I nodded and pulled her toward the front door. Gage’s muffled voice drifted from behind the ajar door of his office. Agitation tinted his tone, and I imagined him pacing in front of his desk as he spoke into his cell. His distraction was my chance. A few more steps, a quiet turn of the knob, and Eve and I would be free. I’d find the nearest house and use the phone to call the police.

  So why was I hesitating?

  The past week replayed in my mind. Despite the tension between us, I’d seen yet a different side of him. Just yesterday, he’d taught Eve how to tie her shoes, which was amazing considering she was only four. He’d already won her over, and I knew she’d miss him when we left.

  I couldn’t stay though, no matter how much part of me wanted to—how much I was tempted to risk everything to be with him. My biggest mistake was allowing him in, because what he’d done was unforgivable. Normal, sane people didn’t kidnap the ones they claimed to love. I firmed my resolve and gripped the cold doorknob.

  “Don’t go,” he said softly behind me.

  I whirled and found him standing a few feet away. Eve ran to him without hesitation.

  “You found us!”

  “I did.” He grinned as he picked her up. “It’s getting late. I’ll tuck you in, princess.”

  She giggled at the nickname and wound her toddler arms around his neck, holding on tight.

  I slumped against the door as his gaze pinned me. I couldn’t read his expression, which was scarier than shit as it left me not knowing what to expect.

  He closed the distance between us and dug a key out of his pocket. “Wait for me in the basement,” he said, dropping the key into my hand.

  “Is Mommy in trouble?” Eve asked.

  “Everything’s fine,” he assured her, yet I detected something in his tone. Everything was not fine, and I was about to learn about it the hard way.

  My body went cold. I hadn’t been down there since the day he’d put his ring on my finger. “Gage…”

  “Wait for me,” he repeated.

  Helplessly, I watched him disappear down the hall with Eve, leaving me a shaking mess in his wake. I wanted to run after him and snatch Eve away, but my feet wouldn’t work. And who was I kidding anyway? Getting into a physical tug-of-war with him, my daughter the prize, wouldn’t end well.

  I forced my feet in the direction he’d ordered me, stumbling twice on the way to that closed off dark space. After turning the key in the lock, I swung the door wide and reached for the light switch. Not knowing what he was about to do to me, I undressed and waited for him on my knees, hands behind my back, like I had every night since he’d let me out of the basement. His voice drifted through the monitor as he wished Eve sweet dreams, and a few minutes later, the creak of the door echoed through the space, followed by the click of the lock. His quiet steps brought him downstairs.

  “Please don’t hurt me.”

  He strode to where I knelt and glared at me. “I’m not going to hurt you. I thought…” He took a breath and ran a hand down his face. “I thought we’d gotten somewhere this past week, but the second I’m not looking, you try to leave.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Are you?” He threw a key onto the floor and stepped back. “Go. If you want to leave me so badly, then take Eve and go. I won’t stop you.”

  Why wasn’t I moving? I imagined my fingers clasping the key, saw myself dress and climb the stairs. Even heard the door opening. Felt Eve in my arms as we escaped into the cold. We’d go back to Texas and life would go back to the way it’d been before he showed up in my driveway. I’d work, Eve would go to daycare after preschool let out, and we’d spend our Saturdays with Stacey and her son. It was a good life.

  “Why aren’t you going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do. Stop lying to me, but more importantly, stop lying to yourself.”

  “I…I want you.”

  “You’ve always wanted me, Kayla. That’s not why you aren’t running right now.” He unbuckled his belt, and I stiffened as he pulled it from his pant loops. “If you stay, I’m going to punish you, but you’re not staying unless you tell me why.”

  “You’ll make me leave?”

  “Yes.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the words from my lips. “I love you.”

  His breath hitched. “Was that so hard to admit?”

  More than he’d ever know. “I shouldn’t love you.”

  “We all do things we shouldn’t.” He pulled me to my feet. “Get on the bench.”

  My body betrayed me again. Even though I shook with fear, desire bloomed low in my belly. I crawled onto the spanking bench and draped it like a rag doll as he strapped me down. He raised my ass, but instead of striking me, he palmed my bottom, both hands kneading flesh. His fingers teased the hole I knew he wanted to penetrate again.

  “We only said anal sex was off the table. We didn’t talk about anal play.”

  I moaned. The thought did funny things to me.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” I swallowed hard as tingles shot down my thighs.

  The chilly air stirred as he moved away. He returned moments later, and his fingers drew lazy circles around the opening of that forbidden place. I hissed in a breath when he inserted a finger.

  “Do you like that?”

  Unable to form words, I mumbled a yes.

  “I’m going to make your ass red. Do you want my hand or my belt?”

  “Your hand.”

  “Count them out loud. I won’t stop until you tell me to.”

  What was he doing? Why was he giving me control of my punishment? I didn’t have time to question him. His palm came down hard.

  “One,” I moaned, and he struck again. I gasped at the force and squeaked out, “Two.”

  Each strike grew in power, yet I kept counting. It didn’t occur to me to say stop. Not when I was liquefying between my thighs despite the tears sliding down my cheeks, dripping off my chin to the floor.

  With every strike of his palm, he brought out guttural cries, similar to the sounds I’d made during labor, but he didn’t ease up, and he didn’t order me into silence either.

  “Fifty,” I sobbed.

  “Tell me to stop.”

  The word stuck in my throat, refused to form on my tongue. Instead, I kept counting.

  And he kept spanking. Harder—so hard I was certain my ass would be one huge bruise after this.

  “Fifty-eight!” I yelled, hands clenched in the restraints.

  “Damn it, Kayla! Say stop!”

  “Stop!”

  He dropped his head onto my back, and his five o’clock shadow chafed my skin like sandpaper. I felt his heavy breaths puff across my burning ass. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

  “I don’t know.” My body shut down, and I had nothing left in me, no more fighting power. I couldn’t even gather my thoughts. Nothing made sense. I closed my eyes and wished for sleep.

  “Yes, you do. Tell me why.”

  “Because I shouldn’t want you. I shouldn’t want this.”

  “But you do.”

  “Yes.” I let out a cry, a cross between a sob and a hiccup. “What kind of person does that make me? What kind of mother?”

  “What we do in the privacy of our bedroom or down here has nothing to do with your parenting. You’re an incredible mother. Eve will grow up strong. Don’t ever doubt that.” He sm
oothed a palm over my bottom, and I gasped as pain radiated from where he touched. “You are the most sexy woman alive, especially when I mark you like this. God, baby. You have no idea what you do to me.” He spread my wetness to my ass before slowly inserting a finger.

  I groaned. “Are you trying to make me beg for it?”

  “I don’t need to try. I have no doubt you’ll beg me to take you anally.” He removed his finger and nudged me with the cool tip of a butt plug. I held my breath, enduring first the pressure then the burn as he shoved it all the way in. “But not tonight. Tonight you’re being punished.”

  “Thought you already punished me.”

  “That wasn’t punishment.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  He laughed. “Hardly. You wanted it too much.”

  “What are you gonna do then?” Fear snuck into my tone. Damn. Fear always got him going.

  “How turned on are you?” He slid his other hand between my thighs.

  “Oh…” Moaning, I rubbed myself against his fingers. “Very.” I wanted him so badly, I could crawl inside him and it still wouldn’t be enough.

  “Good. That’s your punishment. I’ll keep you aroused to the breaking point all night, but you won’t get off. It’ll serve as a reminder that leaving me will leave you sexually frustrated for the rest of your life.”

  “You’re evil.”

  He released my ankles and wrists. “But you love me, so I couldn’t be that bad.” His words reeked of satisfaction. “Come on,” he said, helping me to my feet. “Let’s move this to our bedroom. We might as well get comfortable, since you have a long night of punishment ahead of you.”

  12. Denied

  This was the most wicked form of punishment ever. He’d restrained me to the bed, and I couldn’t move.

  At all.

  Rope bound my skin in a soft texture, and my knees were bent and spread wide. He’d tied my ankles to my thighs and had extended the rope to the bed posts to keep me that way. My arms were stretched above and fastened to the headboard. He had me exactly where he wanted me—helpless and at his mercy, which was nonexistent.

  He licked a slow path down my center, dipped into my entrance, and then glided his tongue to the aching bud of nerves he knew would break me if he put the right amount of pressure there. He’d been at this for the last forty-five minutes, according to the clock on the nightstand.