Page 18 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

Another thought crosses my mind, sending me into a slight panic. “If we are officially part of this group, The Exodus, after tonight, does that mean we belong to them? You promised we could still go back to North Carolina to see my mom.”

E walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my bare waist, and looks into my eyes through the mirror. “We still make our own fucking rules. No one is ever going to keep you from your mom. My dad, knows not to restrict or limit me and now you. You are a fucking Sinclair, we do what we want, when we want. So stop worrying. We will always have Blackwood.”

My fingertips dance along the light stone countertop, rolling my black eyeliner pencil back and forth. “Do my face?” I ask him shyly.

Spinning me around, his hands grip my waist as he lifts me up to sit on the counter. My legs wrap around him, pulling him closer. His hard cock grinds against my heat, which is even more sensitive now with the piercing. This fucking man.

“So fucking beautiful, little bat,” his lips whisper against mine as we continue to tease each other.

Feeling cheeky, I taunt him more. “It’s too bad your cock is on a pussy ban currently. Isn’t it?”

His strong hand grips my neck. “The fuck you talking about? I own this pussy.”

My lip curves, unaffected by his reactions. “Bad boys get punished. And you have been a very bad, bad boy.”

His breathing is heavy and warm on my face as our eyes remain in contact. “And so do bad girls. I can play too, little bat.”

My pussy continues to grind against him, taunting him further. His mouth moves next to my ear, whispering, “Keep doing that. If I can’t cum, neither can you.”

Then he’s gone. The warmth from his breath disappears as he pulls back. Eyeliner in hand, he takes the cap off and rubs the tip between his fingers before beginning.

As he works, I watch his face. His eyes concentrated as his teeth play with his lip ring. E’s free hand tilts my head as he continues his design.

These intimate moments are some of my favorites. Where it’s just us. In complete silence, just being with one another, unapologetically ourselves. No matter where we are, we will always have these times. The one constant thing that will never change.

He turns my head slightly again as his eyes roam my face, squinting slightly as he analyzes his work. E adds the final touches before placing the eye pencil back down next to me.

Satisfied with his work, before stepping out of my hold, my legs remain wrapped around him the entire time, as I sit here naked while he turns my face into art. His lips connect with mine. A spark, a tingle, electrifies my body. Breathing him in, his familiar musky scent and knowing that I own him causes my pussy to drip. I need him desperately. His fingers go to my breast, rubbing them with his thumb before gripping my hard nipples and pinching them hard, causing my body to react against his. My hands rub against his covered chest, making their way up his neck then reaching his dark, thick locks of hair. I grip it and pull slightly. He growls into my mouth as a result.

Our tongues dance, battling for dominance.

Then I flip the script and pull back, my voice rasping as I speak. “Bad boys get punished.”

His fist pounds next to me, mumbling under his breath, “Motherfucker.” Which causes me to giggle.

“But I do have something for you, move and I’ll get it.” Pushing him back as I jump down, my bare feet hit the tile floors. E steps aside, letting me scurry into our bedroom, which still has the broken lamp in pieces on the floor. Stepping around it and hopping into the closet, I push some of my clothes aside on the shelf and grab the tiny velvet box.

The fabric is soft against my fingers, and I smile with excitement as I rush back to him in the bathroom. He hasn’t moved.

This is like Blackwood, the night we took my father down, but this time the roles are reversed. I wonder if he’s realized? Thankfully the situation is vastly different, and we are joining his dad in something that appears to be incredibly important to E. Even if he hasn’t said it, he also hasn’t tried to fight it.

Nights like these signify important events in our lives, and it’s good to celebrate and commemorate them. He collared me, and now I have something for him.

Holding my hands out, the box looking so large in my tiny palms, I wait for him to take it. He looks confused but intrigued as he takes the box.

Still holding it, he looks at me as I encourage him, “Open it.”

Slowly, the lid opens and his eyes widen, with his head slightly shaking in disbelief. “When? How?”

I love giving gifts, and watching their reactions when they open them is the best thing.

“I had them made back home, in Blackwood. And brought them with me here, not knowing what was to come, but wanted them here just in case. Do you like them?”

Walking to the mirror, he places the box down and grabs the first fang out and places it over his natural fang tooth, but the ones I had made are longer and sharper. Checking it out once it’s on, he takes the other and slides it on too. A giant smile forms on his face, showcasing his new accessories. My pussy throbs.

The fangs, with his face tattoo, are doing things to me. Fuck.

He winks at me through the mirror, knowing exactly what he is doing to me. “What a shame, we are both being punished. Otherwise, I would be teasing your sensitive inner thighs right now, letting my teeth tickle you as your cunt drips on my face.”

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