Page 85 of Only the Devil
“Mom’s big into astrology.”
“I’ve noticed you like to read horoscopes.”
“Well, they’re fun. But you can take it pretty far. Study the alignment of the planets at the time you’re born, learn your node and your house and your past lives and how those past lives influence your soul’s choices today.”
“Past lives?”
She grins. “You’re not a believer?”
It’s hokey, sure, but… “I’m not going to knock what anyone else believes. Whatever gets you through works for me. But if you’re saying you could research my nodes and find that we shouldn’t be together…I’m all for keeping my birth date a secret.”
“It’s fine. One day I’ll learn. After all, I'll need to make you a cake, right?”
I release her hand and fondle her breast, letting the pad of my thumb lazily circle her nipple.
“Nope. I’ll skip the cake. This is too good to let you go sabotaging anything.”
“I won’t. Promise. I don’t buy into it.”
“But yet you check the horoscopes.”
“For fun,” she says, lifting my hand and pressing her lips to my knuckle. “Sometimes they feel right. In a lot of ways, it’s like having a therapist on hand to give you suggestions for how to handle tough situations.”
“Doesn’t sound bad at all.”
She twists my wrists and presses her lips to my palm. “It’s not bad.” She inhales deeply and grows thoughtful. “My biggest issue with them is that they sometimes let people believe things are outside of their control.”
“That’s not what you believe?”
“It’s not what I want to be true.”
“But what do you believe?”
“I believe we all have weak and strong moments, and horoscopes play to that—the vague applicability is why they always seem divined. But at the end of the day, I’m like Uncle Alvin. I want to believe that sometimes we cave to the devil on our shoulder, but sometimes we stand strong, and whether we cave or stand, it’s on us. It’s our choice. We control our destiny. Not the stars, not the planets. We’re all made of star dust, sure, but we’re conscious beings. My choices are mine to make.”
“Not a big believer in destiny?”
“Maybe in past lives I was, but now, I think I get my power from taking control.”
I growl—grinning, teasing. “I like the sound of that. There’s nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Why is that?”
Her fingers lightly graze my chest, down my abdomen, until they wrap around my erection. My eyelids flutter closed, loving the feel, her grip. She shifts on the mattress, moving her mouth closer to her hand.
“Because I’m about to take what I want.”
The pad of her thumb smears the precum and then she licks.
Oh fuck.
That feels divine.
Her tongue traces a slow circle, and I groan, my hand threading through her hair.
“Daisy…” I manage, but she’s already moving, positioning herself over me with that confident grace that drives me wild.
