Page 53 of The Diávolos: Part One
“Just a little. But don’t get too excited,” I flirt back.
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
“Oh… Well, I wanted to hear yours, too,” I whisper.
“Have a good night,angeloúdimou,” he says, right before hanging up, and I’m left speechless.That’s it?
Evan isn’t a man of many words, but his intensity makes my insides scream. I can feel the blood rushing through my veins from the strength of my beating heart. I get up and take a lukewarm shower, hoping to cool myself off. Fresh and clean, I change into a slip dress and lie back in bed.
All thoughts of him start to resurface.Oh, for god’s sake.
I can’t get away from him. I think about the way he eyed me up in the ballroom, the fire in his eyes when he noticed Niko touching me and whispering in my ear. The same blaze that had erupted when I’d danced with the stranger at the club. Both times, his gaze had followed my lips every time I spoke or took a sip of my drink. It still boggles my mind that the resemblance didn’t click immediately.
I can’t help but close my eyes and my body hums to the thought of him.
My fingers lift to my neck, and I caress my skin. I gently slide them down my body, over my hardening nipples visible through the silk of my dress. I stop at my right breast and squeeze it, wishing it was Evan touching me.
My other hand slowly travels up my thigh, releasing shivers through me. I picture his tattooed hands all over me, touching me in all the right places, and heat rushes through my body, sending an ache right to my swollen bundle of nerves.
More.
My hand goes to the edge of my panties, and I can feel the dampness through the fabric. With my right hand still caressing my breasts, I push my thong to the side and touch my clit. I instantly moan.
Needing to release the pressure, I open my legs wider and work my finger in circles over the little bud. I picture Evan hovering over me, using his hands instead of mine, and the pleasure intensifies.
I need more.
My fingers slide down to my opening and I drag the wetness up my folds. I close my eyes and imagine him whispering in my ear, “Show me how you like it, angel.”
The thought alone is enough for me to ease my index and middle fingers inside of me. I gasp as I work my digits in and out, removing them to slide my arousal over my center, and I use my thumb to draw circles on it. The idea of Evan touching me only sends more ripples of pleasure through my body. “Oh, god, yes.Yes.”
I don’t even care that I’m being obnoxiously loud. I live alone and this tension needs to be released.Badly.
My hips start moving to the rhythm of my fingers as the husky voice in my head whispers, “Good girl. Fuck your fingers for me.” This tips me off the edge, and my breaths become ragged. The tension is bubbling inside me, and I’m ready to explode. My moans get louder as my orgasm overwhelms me. Release hits me, and I call out his name. “Evan.” I shudder as I wind down from the wave of pleasure, gently removing my fingers. I rest my arms alongside my body and breathe through the aftermath of my climax.
Suddenly, a penetrating gaze tickles my senses. My head whips around, and I jerk up on the bed. Evan is standing at the entrance of my bedroom, leaning against the door, his injured arm crossed at his chest in a sling. I draw in a breath and clutch my chest.
“Evan!” I shout. “Ti sto diáolo?”What the hell?“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, frantically, my face turning several shades of red. Did he see everything? Did he hear me moaning out his name?Oh my god.
“Long enough to see the grand finale,” he says through a smirk, pushing himself off the door. “Do you always call out my name when you come, angel?”
I should feel panicked that he’s here, but I get a whiff of his woodsy and minty smoke scent as he walks over to me, and it puts me at ease.
“No.” I shift uncomfortably as I make my way off the bed. I need to get out of this compromising position as quickly as possible. I barely make it to the edge when Evan appears right in front of me. I gasp at his speed.
“Don’t move,” he orders as he grabs the hand I used to pleasure myself. He shoves my fingers in his mouth and pops them out, making a sound of satisfaction as he tastes my juices. My eyes widen.
“You taste so fucking good,kitten.”Oh, god.
“With your wide, innocent eyes, and the way you purr when you call out my name. So soft and sweet,” he says as he pinches my chin gently, using the tip of his thumb to rub my bottom lip. “Like a cat, you are sacred and should be worshiped. But I see the viciousness inside you, and I can’t wait to see the lioness you become when you are cornered.”
I shudder. This man has a way with words that can make your insides turn into a pile of mush. Evan is a Big Bad Wolf, but I am not afraid of him. He doesn’t drag me down or weaken me, he fills me with a rush of so much feeling, reminding me I’m alive.
His gaze meets mine before his eyes travel down my body. He stops at my chest, where my hardened nipples poke through my slip dress. I blush and lift my arm to hide my breasts, but he grabs my wrist and stops it midair.
“Don’t you ever hide from me, Angelica. Let me stare. I love watching you.”
Such a double entendre. I wonder how much he’s seen while stalking me. The thought of someone’s eyes on me didn’t bother me before, so it shouldn’t now, but I can’t help feeling annoyed at how he decided to impose on my life and now force himself into my home like he owns the place. Like he ownsme.
