Page 34 of Her Devil

“You’re not going in there naked,” I warn.

“I’m fully clothed,” she counters.

Although the arch of my eyebrow makes it clear thatfullyin that sentence isn’t exactly the case.

“Make me.”

She throws the challenge down between us, pressing her thighs together, hopefully in anticipation, if the way her breathing picks up is anything to go by.

“You don’t think I will?” I ask, unclipping both seatbelts and picking the discreet but sturdy belt from the seat. Her eyes widen as her breath hitches, her interest clearly piqued. “Come here.”

With a thick swallow, she shuffles her ass around slightly, the dress not allowing for a great deal of access. She shivers as I grip her ankle, goosebumps breaking out beneath my touch as I slide one foot and then the other into the thin straps before pushing it roughly up the inside of her dress. The first time I get up close and personal with her it isn’t going to be in the back of a car with my roommate driving.

I stop at her knees, gesturing with a nod for her to get it in position. I’ll do it, if I have to, but part of me wants her to want this, to hand over the control willingly. Because I know it’s got her as hot as I am hard right now.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, but she pulls the belt up, settling the silicone-wrapped steel over her hips, the cool metal covering her pussy making her gasp. “Happy?” she sasses.

That beligerant acquiescence doesn’t get her anywhere as I yank on her thighs, pulling her down to me and pushing the dress up to get my first glimpse of her locked up and only available to me. My dick throbs at just the sight of her like this, draped over my lap in the dark.

Pulling the sides together and sliding the lock through, I make sure it’s tight enough for her to feel, the lock glinting in the light of the campus as we turn down the driveway to the house. Her gasp as I close it is almost too much to take.

“What about when I need the bathroom?” she asks huskily, quiet enough for Wyatt not to hear.

“Better stay nearby then, huh?”

It doesn’t need unlocking for her to go, but she doesn’t need to know that just yet. No, it’s better to keep her close.

“Masks stay on, everything else is optional,” Wyatt reminds me as we pull into the garage, her legs still splayed over mine, her pussy nothing more than inches away from my already hard cock. “The rest shouldn’t be far behind.”

Neither of us move, our breaths coming rapidly as my hand wraps around her delicate throat. The two of us are trapped in something else, something a million miles away from the conversation Wyatt is having with us, something that’s just ours. She raises her chin as I adjust my fingers, heat flaring in her eyes as I press my weight against her, my hard-on more than obvious.

I’d put money on the fact that she’s wet already, the metal warming against her heat.

“Just remember this moment, sugar. You’re the one sprawled out half-naked with my hand wrapped around your throat and your wet cunt locked up tightly. I’m the one in control here.”

I can feel her swallow, her legs tightening on either side of me as she attempts to close them. Wyatt taps the roof of the car twice, apparently he got out and neither of us noticed, too wrapped up in the way she feels beneath me. “And I like your hair down better than whatever this is.”

Peeling myself off her is significantly harder than I imagine it would be as I pocket the keys and open the door behind me. The garage door is less than half closed before it starts to open again, Taylor’s Range Rover appearing just seconds later as Ivy climbs from the back of the car.

“Was that really necessary?” Wyatt asks quietly as we watch Jasper help Tamsin from the back of the car.

“O.M.G, what happened to your hair?” Tamsin gasps, looking at the less-than-perfect style Ivy’s now rocking. I smirk as Ivy blushes, her hand reaching up self-consciously as she feels the damage done in the back seat. “Let me see what I can do.”

Ivy turns, her gaze locking with mine as her friend fusses around, attempting to fix some of the mess we created. I can’t help but smirk at the blush that covers her cheeks or the knowing arch of her friend's eyebrow.

“Are we waiting for the others?” Jasper asks, his hand already on the handle.

“No, let’s get these ladies a drink,” Wyatt decides. “At least one of them has already earned it,” he adds quietly, waiting for Tamsin and Ivy to finish up before guiding them through to the main entrance, the music already spilling through from the house.

The guests have littered themselves comfortably throughout the house already, more than one confused and intrigued look being sent our way as the six of us make our way to the kitchen. The island is covered in trays of canapes, with more than one person pottering around and making drinks as someone hands Tamsin and Ivy champagne.

Wyatt grabs a fistful of beers from a fridge, pops the tops and hands them out. “Well then, ladies. Welcome to our house,” he declares, opening his arms wide and turning in a circle.

“It’s bigger than ours,” Tamsin comments as she plucks some tiny food morsel from a tray. “But then, I guess there are more of you living here, so that makes sense.”

I try to take it in as they’re seeing it, tile floors and marble counters, shaker cupboards and brass handles. It’s like a farmhouse kitchen with a very expensive makeover. It’s not somewhere I’ve spent a lot of time this week, but then cooking isn’t really my thing.

“So, what’s the expectation here?” Ivy asks, ignoring the small talk and cutting right to it.

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