Page 43 of The Devil's Playground

My body wants to move with her, but I stay motionless. That felt fucking amazing, too, but I don’t want her to think I was slowly tricking her into fucking me. When I want sex, she’ll know it. When I want to sit here, this gorgeous creature on my lap, holding my stiff cock inside of her as if it was made for her perfect pussy alone… she’ll know that, too.

I nuzzle her neck as my hands go to her waist. Digging my thumbs past the bunched up material of her dress, I put enough pressure there to keep her from wiggling again. “Don’t move,” I breathe, pressing an open-mouth kiss to her skin. “Just sit right here, baby, and enjoy the show.”

I know I definitely will.

Sex is great. Stealing Nic away from some lowlife at the Playground who thinks his two dollar tip is enough to keep me from my girl, then enjoying it when she drops to her knees, sucking me off eagerly on one of her “breaks” is more than a bastard like me deserves. Waking up with her blonde hair spilled across my chest, her hand splayed across the devil on my side, and her legs entangled with mine? I love it.

But having her trust me enough to lean back, her fingers moving from the arm rests to settle on top of my thighs as I spread her wide open, my cock nestled inside of her heat while a love triangle plays out on the stage?

This… this is what I’ve been waiting for—and there isn’t a single thing I won’t do to keep it.

As the first act draws to a close, I start to thrust a little. She’s comfortable now, but Nicolette isn’t Ava Monroe; exhibitionism isn’t her thing. She’ll sit on my lap in the dark, but once the light goes back on? She’ll scatter, leaving my dick wet and my balls ready to explode.

Good thing I have a solution for that problem. And when my slow thrusts pick up speed, Nicolette immediately matching my rhythm as she realizes that I am fucking her right now, I’m so close to coming that I have to edge myself before I blow my load, leaving her wanting.

If there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a selfish lover. So, while I guide Nicolette to ride me in the theater seat, I reach around her, using two fingers to rub her clit until she begins mewling softly.

She’ll never forgive herself if someone hears her being fucked while the show’s going on. That’s why, right as the chandelier comes crashing down, I grip Nicolette by the chin, tugging her mouth down to mine. I swallow her cries as she begins to come around my cock, and just as the lights flicker on for the intermission break, I buck up inside of her, filling her completely as she goes boneless against my suit.

Once we’re both finished, I press a kiss to the top of her hair as I run my sticky fingers along the side of her thigh.

Now that’s a connection worth writing home about.

SIXTEEN

KIERAN ALFIERI

ROYCE

It’s amazing how carefree Nicolette is in Riverside.

The arrogant part of me wants to believe it’s from our theater fucking. Could be. Once she got used to just sitting on top of me, keeping me warm and the both of us connected through the first act of the show, she lost most of the tension she was carrying with her earlier. We both headed off to the bathroom during intermission to freshen up, and when the show re-started, she laid her head on my shoulder again after returning to my lap, snuggling close throughout all of act two.

There was no reason to interrupt her during the second act, and I actually found myself following the plot as I looped my arm around her middle, holding her close. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, though I made it a point to tell Nic that the female lead—Christine—fucked up by not choosing the Phantom in the end.

“The Phantom?” Nicolette swats me in the jacket as we file out of the theater. “Were you watching the same show as me? He was the bad guy.”

Taking her elbow lightly, I help guide her past some of the passersby on the street. “He loved her.”

“He stalked her.”

“Because he loved her,” I point out.

She wrinkles her nose, and I get it. Some women might not swoon to know that their love interest is so obsessed that they’d watch over them… and if she’s one of them, it’s probably for the best that I keep the last couple of months to myself.

“He took her captive, Royce. Forced her in a wedding dress and then tried to make her choose between marrying him or watching as he killed her lover. And if you say he did all of that because he loved her… I think he was just obsessed.”

Is it bad that I’m still on the Phantom’s side here? “He let her go in the end,” I remind her. “That pussy?—”

Nicolette snorts. “The viscount.”

Whatever. The blond asshole was a pussy. “He didn’t deserve her. What did he do to show that he cared? Nothing compared to the Phantom.”

Nicolette’s brow furrows for a moment. “He rescued her when the Phantom hung that guy.”

I don’t remember that part. “When was that?”

She bumps her hip into my thigh as we cross over onto the next street. We’d both decided it was too early to call it a night and, after the show, we somehow worked up an appetite. With a handful of restaurants surrounding the venue, she suggested we take advantage of the nice night to walk over instead of getting the car from the valet.

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