Devlin UnLeashed(51)

Her breathing pattern was an erratic pulse of her arousal. If I were the man my father wanted me to be, I’d be buried so deep inside her and she wouldn’t be able to feel the movements of her own limbs—she’d be so consumed by me.

Her skin was cool. Her flesh soft and supple under my palm. Whereas my flesh was hard and hot. We were completely opposite in even this, but I’d never felt anything so right.

Mine. Mine. Mine. I chanted in my head. For a fucking minute, I believed it. I tugged harder at my straining cock. It twitched with the need to come right fucking now. My thigh muscles locked up, and I was buzzing as jolts of pleasure raced up and down my spine. With one final jerk of my hand and clenching of my butt, I spilled. I watched under heavy eyelids as a forceful burst of my cum shot onto her breast and neck. I came so fucking hard, traces of it landed on her chin and lips.

I shuddered. Never had I come so brutally, and I hadn’t even experienced the warmth of her wet walls. Every cell in my body fizzed to life. It felt like she’d awakened something in me I didn’t know was there. I’d suspected she was capable of something big and she’d have a huge impact on me, and now I’d proved it.

Her tongue darted out. She licked her lips, purposely taking my taste into her mouth. I cupped her face and wanted nothing more than to rip off the blindfold and look into her eyes. “You’re a dirty bitch, aren’t you?”

She said nothing. She’d finally been silenced.

“So, quiet angel, where’s all your spunk now?” I leaned in and her body stiffened beneath me. “Next time, I get to taste your cum on my tongue.”

She turned her head away from me. Her lips trembled, and I knew she was keeping her emotions hidden. She wanted me, but she fucking hated me. She thought she could figure me out with all the questions, but I could write a fucking exposé on my life and I still wouldn’t be able to figure myself out.

I had rushed out of the room before the next time became the right fucking now. I’d left her on that bed like a sacrificial lamb bathed in my essence in a ritual of ownership and authority I’d never intended.

She made me unpredictable. And that scared the shit out of me. Mostly because I didn’t know how far I’d go to possess her, and once I did, how far I’d go to keep her.





Chapter Thirty

Juliana

He wouldn’t tell me his age, height, hair color, or any other descriptive quality. Those were the things I was looking for, right? Then why did I know he hated chocolate and liked listening to old rock records? He avoided talking about his dad, and talked about his mother in a nostalgic way.

There was more to him than I originally thought. The more I dug, the more I needed to know. I sealed everything I learned about him inside a vault in my head. They were pieces of the puzzle I tried to fit together at night before falling asleep.

I wasn’t myself here. It was as though the moment he’d snatched me off the street, I’d morphed into a new person. I was willfully strong, indignant, and weak as hell when it came to the unexplainable physical attraction to that man.

Attraction? I didn’t know if I could call it that. I’d never even seen the man, how could I be attracted to him? But I was, or at least, my body grew interested with every touch.

I began to wonder if he was feeding me some kind of drug. Some kind of aphrodisiac that said fuck what I wanted or what common sense dictated. I was trying too hard to get to know him. I convinced myself he’d slip up and tell me some information I could use to identify him to the police once this was over, but I was lying to myself.

I spent hours alone in the room imagining what could’ve made him into the man he was, trying to come up with viable excuses for him to be the way he was. The deal I came up with to gain information became a source of excitement in my day. I looked forward to learning who he was. I started to feel relatively safe since he’d never really tried anything sexual. But now, lying on this bed with my breast exposed, his sticky release drying on my skin in tight patches, I was more confused than ever.

I really thought I had figured him out before this. He was all talk and no action. That was until I pushed him. Everything became all too real. I’d been angry, scared, repulsed, yet turned on all in the same instance. I wanted to cry, scream, but more than that, I wanted to shower him off my skin. I felt humiliated and disgusted with myself for licking my lips afterward.

What the fuck had I been thinking?

I hadn’t been thinking. I’d done it like some kind of natural reaction.

It tasted like dipping my tongue into liquid sin. Like drinking alcohol and knowing with each sip, you were closer to losing control of everything. It could control you.