Page 46 of Wild Devil

Salvation in a brutal series of thrusts.

“Fuck, I’m going to hell for this,” he grates out. “Spread your legs for me. Like that. Wider…”

He yanks my hips, angling me toward him as he sinks to one knee. The heat of his breath washes over me, electrifying raw, sensitive skin. I can’t keep silent when he lunges, taking me fully in his mouth.

I feel fire, rippling through me, consuming me inch by inch. Then he adds a finger, stroking me from the inside out. Another. A third.

“Daze.” I feel my fingers tear through his hair, desperate to guide him to where I need him the most. Ironically, he doesn’t need any direction from me. It’s like he can read my mind, taking his cues from the deepest, carnal impulses inside me. He knows me better than I do.

Too well.

He knows how to make my fear go away until pleasure is all I feel.

“No,” I bite out, digging my nails into his skull. “I don’t want this. I want?—”

His teeth. I feel them rake over my flesh, and I lose track of my argument. A harsh mix of pain and ecstasy forms a bitter, painful poison. I whimper out an affirmation, and he rocks into me, using more pressure. More wet heat. More. More. More.

Then, without warning, he shoves what feels like the thickness of a thumb inside me, and I come apart at the seams.

“That’s it,” Daze grunts in approval. “So, fucking beautiful. You want more? I need to hear you ask for it?—”

“Please.”

“Good girl.”

He flips me around, forcing me face-forward against the wall. His breath fans over my lower back, then lower.

“I need you to trust me, baby,” he says before brushing his hand along my ass. “Trust me. Say that you do.”

“I trust you.” My breath feathers in and out, and it’s hard to find the words to speak. Especially when I feel his thumb drift down to stroke my clit. Then up, along my ass, and back again. I jerk each time he completes a circuit. With a few simple motions, he’s taken complete control of every limb and nerve. It’s like his fingers are hardwired to my brain. He’s a puppet master, jerking me along with invisible strings and it’s all I can do just to endure.

“You’re so damn wet, already,” Daze says. “Fuck. You feel that, how eager you are for me?”

He taunts me, stroking me from the inside out with a crooked finger. It’s a move far more gentle than what I asked for, but the second I tense, he pairs the sweetness with a harsh grind of his thumb over my clit.

“You want to do this my way?” he murmurs, watching my body jerk helplessly on the tips of his fingers. “Then I need you soaked,” the exhales, teasing my flesh with another burst of prickling heat.

His tongue lashes at me with harsh, probing strokes, and I can’t think. I just move and react, letting my body go on autopilot. The second I reach a sense of blank clarity…

Smack! His hand hits my ass, conveying none of the violence that Colton or my father assaulted me with. It jars me back into that clouded mindset, and before my body can even finish coming down from the brief pain, he strokes the spot with unimaginable softness.

“You feel that?” he asks me, his voice low and thick. “That’s a taste of the pain you put me through. The fucking agony. And then the memory of you that would always follow and make it so damn worth it. You are worth any pain. Do you hear me?”

I do, but somehow, the earnestness in his voice doesn’t make it any easier to believe. It seems like I only cause death to those around me. I should be doing whatever it takes to atone for Catherine’s death and the poor girl from the stables. I don’t deserve to be in Daze’s arms, let alone being pleasured by him.

I start to tense, and he must sense the change in my body before I do. Thwack! His hand strikes my inner thigh, and I jump, startled.

“Don’t,” he snarls, sounding feral. “For the next few moments, I don’t want you to give a shit about anything or anyone but me. You got that?” He leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my hip. “In here, we’re the only two things that exist. Just me and you. Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed this. The way you feel. How you smell. The sounds you make.”

He drags his teeth over my skin, nipping as he goes, and I can’t catch my breath. As he pulls back, I look over my shoulder, and his eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes me shiver, even before I hear him demand. “Get down. Hands and knees.”

I obey him on autopilot, shuddering as my body connects with the cold, unfamiliar floor. For the first time it sinks in that I don’t recognize this place. He’s been busy in the short forty-eight hours that I’ve been gone. I want to ask him, but then I feel his fingers slide along my spine, and I lose focus again.

“Brace yourself, baby,” he says, rocking into me from behind. “You wanted it rough, you got it.”

I don’t even have the time to second-guess my request. He heeds it perfectly, driving into me with a need that sets my body on fire. Bit by bit, I can feel the shattered, traumatized part of myself waking up, shrugging off the numb haze.

I’m not weak. I’m not an idiot for trusting the wrong people. I never should have doubted Daze.

---