Page 9 of The Devil of London

Cameron: I’d wait forever for you. I like you. You’re funny and make me laugh, Aderyn.

His brief reply caused my lips to curve up at the corners, and I sent him a smiley face emoji. When Cameron sent a photo of him pouting, my smile grew wider. Before I could reply, though, my phone was snatched from my hand. When I twisted to yell at the asshole who stole my phone, I found Khaos frowning at the screen as he read the messages.

“Give me my phone.” At his dark, threatening look, I swallowed.

“Who the fuck is Cameron, and why are you dressed like you’re trying to get fucked?”

“He’s just a guy I met online. I am dressed up because I am meeting him after I finish up here. We have a date,” I admitted as his features sharpened with anger.

“I must’ve heard you wrong because it sounded like you said you had a date?” he returned in an acerbic tone.

My heartbeat began thundering against my ribcage as he sat beside me, thumbing through my messages. “Not that type of date, Nasir.” His head lifted, and his stare hardened as he waited for my reply. “It’s for companionship.” Heat burned my cheeks as shame replaced the warmth I’d felt from his touch.

“Companionship?” he asked before he returning to looking through my messages. “Why the fuck would you need him for companionship when you have me?” My lips parted before closing as I battled my shock.

The bartender stopped in front of us, poured two fingers of top-shelf bourbon into a glass of ice, and then set it in front of Nasir.

“The lady will have a Witch’s Brew. Use the Empress Gin and the juice of a lemon but hold the wedge. Add the basil, but don’t push it into the drink. She doesn’t enjoy digging it out to finish the cocktail,” Nasir rattled off my preferred drink without even looking at me, which surprised me. “That is still your drink of choice, correct?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Who the fuck is Charlie, and why the hell is he calling you pet names?”

“He’s a wholesaler of herbs and botanicals,” I explained carefully.

“It doesn’t explain why he’s fucking obsessed with you.”

“He isn’t obsessed with me, Khaos. He’s thirty-five years old and is married to a lovely man named Sean. They have five rescue dogs and twelve cats, most of which are special-need animals. Their son is Tate, whose first tooth came in last week. Charlie is a Libra, but he leans more toward fire signs, and Sean is a Taurus, so they balance one another out.” Turning to accept my drink, I thanked the bartender as the clicking of heels over the bar forced my eyes up to a leggy blonde. Returning my attention to Khaos, I found him studying my face.

“Cancel the date,” he stated firmly.

“No, I’m not canceling it again. I’ve canceled it five times this month already,” I shot back until his eyes burned into mine with dark promises shimmering in them. “It’s not like I was intending to do anything with him. I have not been on a date in seventy years, Khaos.”

“You’ll cancel it, or you’ll wake up to his head shoved up that poor, neglected cunt of yours, love.” The dancer laughed, which had my ire shifting to where she was swaying with a come-hither look planted firmly on Khaos. Lowering before him, she reached out to grab his hands, pulling them toward her tits, but he jerked them back and cut a withering glare at her before turning back to me. “You do not need companionship when you have me, Aderyn. All you need is me.”

“I don’t have you, Khaos.”

Khaos’s hand shot forward, gripped my throat, and yanked me toward his face.

“I guess we’ll have to fucking fix that then, won’t we? Grab your drink and follow me, love. Let’s find somewhere quieter to continue this conversation.” The blood drained from my face as he let go of me and stood. Panic slowly set in, my lips parting as I peered around for an exit, knowing I’d never reach it before Khaos caught me. Damaris’s eyes locked with mine from across the room, and she offered me a small smile of encouragement as Khaos added, “Don’t keep me waiting, love. You know I do not enjoy it when you do so.”

Rising from my seat, I grabbed the drink and sent Damaris a quick, tight smile, which Khaos noted. His eyes slid to where she stood, and a grunt sounded in reply. Elizabeth, Rose, and Natalie came to a stop behind her, waving at me. I quickly waved back, but tears pricked my eyes. Khaos issued a low growl, and I hurried to catch up with him, trying not to notice the nervous glances the girls shot between me and him.

Following the devil farther into the depths of a hell he created never ended well for those he shepherded.

Chapter Four

Nasirwalkedmedowna dimly lit hallway. He’d positioned the lamps, which appeared to burn oil, beside more pictures of my body in various positions. But there were also others who obviously weren’t me, since the skin tone was wrong. These were more risqué. The one I recognized of myself had my hands bound, forced under my belly. Nasir had spread my knees apart, and they’d displayed me like that for hours while men and women alike viewed me. No one could touch me, but they had wanted to. Hell, I’d been so turned-on listening to them speaking about how beautiful my body was, that I’d been saturated with arousal.

“It’s one of my favorite pieces of you,” Nasir whispered against my ear. “Do you remember how much you’d fought me that day? I’d eaten that pussy until it was swollen from coming on my tongue, and then I’d put you on display. You were the patrons’ favorite as well. All innocence and grace. I sat there watching you squirm as they openly gazed at your needy cunt. That day, I almost killed one of them for attempting to touch you.”

“I remember,” I whispered thickly as heat throbbed in my pussy, only to swell in my abdomen. “I bawled because I couldn’t take any more orgasms.” I’d experienced nothing like it before, and Nasir had been brutal as he’d savaged my delicate flesh. Pressing my thighs together, I struggled to ignore the way my clit ached at the memory.

“The next one is my favorite.” He sounded amused as I moved to the next portrait. It was of Paris spread out on the bed, bleeding from several wounds Khaos had inflicted, and I had to swallow the sob.

Paris had been one of many men I had been enamored with during our stay in the French Quarter. I’d begun dancing in Damaris’s show, which was one of the biggest draws to New Orleans. It was a mix of Moulin Rouge and the first BDSM club. We would dance in sheer skirts and tops we had sewn ourselves. Then Nasir or one of his men would announce those without a golden ticket needed to vacate theLe Repaire des Pécheursor The Sinner’s Den. Men would kill to get the exclusive golden tickets, which were handed out to only nobility, artists, and the filthy rich patrons.

Then they had begun the actual show.

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