Page 6 of The Duplicity of Thieves

Any moment the stranger is going to decide that I’m not worth whatever this is. Except he smirks, that ever-present amusement flashing back in his eyes.

I tilt my head sending ‘get the fuck away from me’ signals as hard as I can. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Headin’ out. Forgot to give ya a message.” Stafford winks, slipping a note into my hand before he disappears down the back hallway.

The stranger sticks his tongue in his cheek and raises his eyebrows. “You gonna read that?”

I don’t want to. Every fiber of my being wants to crumple it up and toss it behind me, but Stafford isn’t a delivery boy, which tells me this might be important. I flip it open. Across the torn off paper, two words are scrawled in Stafford’s shitty handwriting.

Go home.

Now he’s doing Killian’s fucking bidding. I have half a mind to run to the back, into his office, and force him to eat it.

“Important?” the stranger asks, closing the distance between us.

Fuck Stafford for trying to cock block me. I crunch it into a ball and shove it into an abandoned drink. “No.”

“You’re trouble, aren’t you, little devil?”

The stranger’s soft lips gently graze mine, and he gives me a questioning kiss. My entire body responds, giving in to itself. Every bit of frustration starts to pour out of me like a broken faucet. Our tongues intertwine, and a growl emanates from his chest.

We get looks of disapproval from the group next to us. I go out plenty and I flirt a lot, but it usually isn’t something so intimate. While Stafford has been giving me a pass, he might tell Killian about something like this. Especially after the note. I hope he does.

I separate from him and take his hand. “I need air.” We take a few steps before he’s connected to me again. We knock into the jukebox and the song skips a few times, eliciting cries of discontent.

“Take it outside!” someone shouts.

Somehow, we make it out of the pub into the dirty alley. He smashes his mouth to mine again, and we’re all teeth and tongue. His hands grab at the bottom of my shirt pulling at it. I panic for a second, and he pauses. I shake my head no and push the coat off of his shoulders instead. He shrugs out of it before pinning me back against the wall.

When I came out tonight, I figured I would go home alone, revolted by the prospects. I usually do, despite the comments Clo makes. None of the men ever seemed interesting enough. It’s not that I’ve never had the occasional rendezvous, but they were Remnant boys and easy to forget. The way this one watched me from the booth made me feel wanted in a way I’ve never felt before. The stranger’s kiss is exhilarating and refreshing.

Every nerve ending in my body is on fire, begging for him to touch me more. I grind my hips against his and feel him harden. He presses me against the brick in response. One of his hands slowly slides up my torso over my shirt. He hesitates over my breast, trying to decide if he wants to touch, before wrapping around my neck. I can feel each individual finger gently squeezing over my artery like a threat.

My breath catches in my throat, and I slide my hand down his arm, intertwining my fingers with his where he grips my hip. The intrigue shifts into masochistic lust, and I’m so wet I know it’s leaking through my shorts. I’m starving for his touch. His taste. For him. We tear our mouths apart, and I swear I’m met with onyx eyes, just like the ones I see in my nightmares. In a flash, they’re gone.

A wave crashes through me, arousal surging up into my belly and taking control of me. His grip moves from my neck to my chin, forcing me to look at him. At the sight of his beautifully menacing grin, I make my decision. Forget my woes and fuck the stranger.

His mouth hovers over mine like a predator waiting to attack. I lean up and kiss him, biting his lip and pulling it playfully. He slams my back against the brick wall, holding me to it, and kisses me forcefully. His free hand squeezes my ass for a moment before he hooks his arm under my thigh, pulling it up until my knee meets my chest, trapping it between us.

My fingers trail down his abdomen. Underneath the cotton I feel toned muscle. His blue eyes are clouded with a mesmerizing intensity. His fingers slide up my fishnets to the thin fabric covering my pussy. It’s soaked through, and he smiles wickedly hooking his fingers into my shorts between my thighs.

At first, he teases me, grazing his knuckles over my underwear, waiting for me to beg. A frustrated breath escapes my lips and his fingers slide under my panties, shoving them to the side before he rubs between my soaking wet folds.

“You’re intoxicating,” he says into my ear, enveloping me in his scent.

“I should go home before I make a mistake.” It’s a halfhearted attempt at a last stand for my dignity, and respect for Stafford’s request, but I’m no saint. My body screams for release. The stranger dips one finger in, sending me into a frenzy.

“Do you want me to stop?” he growls. I shake my head no and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get a grip. Biting his lip with satisfaction, he rests his fingertips at the edge of my pussy, making me drip down my leg. I swallow hard, and his bulge grows against my thigh. Cold sweat breaks out across my already glazed skin.

Three fingers push into me without warning, and my eyes roll back into my head as he kisses me roughly. With my leg trapped between our writhing bodies, he finds my neck again and tightens, cutting off most of my oxygen and sending a thrill where his palm presses my clit. His tongue prods at the seam of my lips, and I let him in. We intertwine with desperation.

His fingers move, and I feel myself melting under his strong grip. I moan into him, and he pulls away, watching me intently. My cheeks flush and I grab his bicep, pushing him further into me. The rise and fall of his chest is sexy, sending another signal of arousal straight to where we’re connected. It’s hard to stave it off. The waves of pleasure are creeping up my legs and through my back. He holds me up against the wall, steadying me.

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he whispers on a heavy breath.

I reach my other hand up and hold onto his neck, trying to fight it. As he coaxes me toward the edge, I dig my nails into his flesh and he drives his palm deeper, stroking me inside. I try to pull his mouth to mine before I reach euphoria to mute my moans, but he doesn’t budge, watching me hungrily.

“Come on my hand, little devil,” he growls in my ear. His words are orgasmic. When I come, it’s cosmic, like stars exploding and the gates of Tartarus opening simultaneously. It makes me breathless. He doesn’t stop as soon as I finish. He wrenches every last ounce of need from me until I can hardly stand. I lay my forehead into his chest taking deep heavy breaths.

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