Page 6 of Heart of a Devil

I find him in the kitchen, which is all country chic, low-level lighting, and homely charm. He looks totally out of place there, his dark head skimming the beamed ceiling and his hulking physique filling the room. It’s like finding a grizzly bear in a doll’s house.

The cocky bastard assumed I’d be joining him all along and has already poured two glasses of wine. Sure enough, here I am. Alone with a man I barely know, who is looking at me like I’m his prey. His eyes rake over every inch of my body, and my heart rate speeds up like I just sprinted a mile.

He passes me the wine, and I take a quick gulp, suddenly needing it. I wanted this, but I feel out of my depth. Seb isn’t the kind of guy who’s going to let me take the lead, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

He stares at me intensely, and his silence undoes me. The flirting, the banter, the back and forth I could handle—but him studying me like this, so dark and brooding? It’s unnerving, and I can’t tell if the fluttering in my stomach is from nerves or anticipation.

“Come here,” he says simply, the words a low growl. I put the glass down and step toward him, unable to ignore the commandin his voice. I stand before him, and he reaches out and puts one huge hand on the side of my neck. He keeps the pressure soft, barely there, the pad of his thumb running across the sensitive flesh between my ear and my jaw. “You nervous, Lauren?”

“No,” I lie, leaning into his touch.

“Yes you are. Your pulse is sky high. Your lips are trembling. Your cheeks are flushed. You’re nervous, and you’re turned on. I bet if I slid my hand inside your panties right now, you’d be soaking wet, wouldn’t you?”

My thighs clench together in response to his question, and a wet heat explodes in my core. God, he’s right. The way he’s talking to me, the way he’s looking at me, that one huge hand stroking my skin… It’s all making my panties damp.

“Maybe I am,” I reply, desperate to keep my head. Desperate not to lose myself completely in this man’s powerful aura. “But the only way to know for sure is if you check for yourself.”

His nostrils flare, and he moves like lightning, tugging me toward him so fast and so hard that I slam into his chest. He twists his fist into my hair and yanks my head back, turning my mouth up toward him. His other arm goes around my waist, holding me against him like a metal bar. The rock-hard bulge in his jeans rubs against me, and I murmur at the contact.

“You’ll be wet for me, Lauren. And you’ll come for me. Over and over again. I’m going to make you scream for me, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck you until you think you’re broken, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. You understand me?”

I try to nod, but his grip on my hair makes it impossible. “Use your words, Lauren.”

“Yes, Seb. I understand.”

“And is that what you want? This is your last chance to change your mind.”

Between his cock pressing into me, his muscular arm restraining me, and his fist in my curls, I’m not sure I’ve got amind left to change. I’ve had my share of sexual partners and I’ve experimented plenty, but nobody has ever had this effect on me. I’m overwhelmed by the way he’s making my body feel, by my arousal already seeping into my panties, by the breathless, booming pound of my heart. Never in a million years would I have expected to enjoy being under a man’s control like this, not after the things that happened in Florida. But here I am—desperate, needy, more than ready. “Yes. I want it.”

He hums appreciatively. “That’s my good girl. Before I do any of that, I think I need to do like you said and check how wet you are for me. I’m going to lay you down on this table, and I don’t want you to move, okay?”

I nod, and he rewards me with a satisfied smile as he rubs his thumb softly across my lips, staring hungrily at my mouth. I’ve never known a man to be able to raise my temperature with only a thumb before, but this seems to be a night full of firsts.

Without any more warning, he pushes me face down on the pine tabletop and holds me there with one big hand between my shoulder blades. I turn my head to the side, my cheek flat to the cool, smooth wood. His body curves over mine, completely engulfing me. He brushes my hair to one side, and I feel his hot breath against my skin before he trails kisses along the back of my neck. Every touch of his lips is like fire, and the way he has me imprisoned makes me squirm and wriggle against him.

He laughs and lifts the perfect pressure of his body away. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you get what you need—but you’ll get it when I decide and not a second before. Now, let’s get a closer look at you.”

Taking his time, he sweeps his hands all along my trembling body, exploring my curves, tantalizingly stroking the sides of my breasts as he works his way down. Desperate to feel those hands on me, I try to turn around to give him access, but he immediately pushes me down again, growling his disapproval.

“I said don’t move. I see what you’re trying to do, sweetheart, and I promise you’ll get everything you’re looking for—so long as you behave yourself. Can you do that, do you think? Behave yourself? Or do you want me to carry you out to your car and send you on your way back to the city?”

My palms are flat on the table, and I slap them against the surface once in frustration. I want to tell him to go screw himself, but I can’t. My body is alight with need, and as he trails his fingers gently around my neck and to my throat, all I can do is nod.

“Good girl. Now, where was I…” He goes back to his delicious stroking, examining me like I’m a gift he’s about to unwrap. “Your waist is fucking tiny,” he says, enclosing it with his giant hands. “And this juicy ass is phenomenal.”

He rubs his hands across my ass cheeks, squeezing them and kneading them through the thin fabric of my dress, and while he does it, he slips his thick thigh between my legs. I’m desperate to make contact with something, anything, to ease the pressure that’s building in my core, and I rub myself shamelessly against him. “Seb!” I gasp.

“I’m here, babe. You can ride my leg like the horny slut you are, but don’t move off that table, you hear me?”

“Yes.”

He grunts, and in one movement, he pushes my dress all the way up to my waist. My legs are shaking as he lets out an appreciative noise and gives my cheeks a slap. It’s not hard enough to really hurt, but it makes my flesh vibrate and my breathing hitch. I’ve tried spanking before, and it did nothing for me. In fact, I laughed the whole time and ended up back on top, as usual. I’m guessing now that it was with the wrong person, because this feels sensational.

“You like that, Lauren? Because you’re fucking my leg like a bitch in heat right now.”

He’s right, and the rough touch of his jeans and the solid bulk of his muscle rubbing against my clit is bringing me closer and closer to the edge. Just as I feel the heat inside me building to a boiling point, he pulls away. I moan his name and almost cry as the wave of pleasure subsides.

He slaps me once more, then tugs my red lace panties off, exposing me completely. “These shoes, Lauren, are a fucking disgrace. How can you expect to ever keep your panties on when you’re wearing these slutty heels? Step up now, one foot at a time.”

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