Page 216 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

My head spun, and I chuckled at the sensation.

Everything was floaty in the best possible way; my thoughts were effervescent bubbles that popped delightfully.

It was euphoric.

“Let us please you,” the man begged at my feet.

If only he had messy dark hair, dimples, olive skin, and hooded dark eyes that twinkled.

Then he would be perfect.

As I thought about John, the butterflies dancing in my stomach turned to lead. Guilt was acid in my stomach even as my heart beat harder at the thought of him.

I rolled my pipe between my lips and inhaled enchanted smoke.

Sun god, everything was so confusing.

My head spun.

A hand touched my leg. “You’re a perfect, flawless queen. There is not one thing wrong with you. You are the ideal female.”

Who was going to tell him?

He was spot on.

I half laughed, half giggled, and snorted at my joke.

Fingers trailed more aggressively up my calves and across my thighs.

I weighed the pros and cons of the situation.

Cons: Sexual relations hurt because of my enchanted scars. I still needed to talk to John and apologize. And now that I was looking at them, the three fake fae dudes were kind of ugly.

I exhaled a cloud of enchanted residue.

Pros: I was drunk.

“Please, mistress, let us serve you.” Man number one leaned forward and kissed the exposed skin of my stomach.

I jumped back with surprise and a jolt of pleasure mixed with a teensy, tiny jolt of pain.

My back barely hurt.

I’d found the answer to my problem.

I just needed to get drunk to the point of complete incapacitation to enjoy sexual relations.

Joy burst in my chest.

Finally, a realistic solution.

I smiled down at the three men literally kneeling before me. Sure, one of them was downright hideous, and they were all way too skinny for my liking. Yes, the man standing in front of me had an enormous nose and freakishly wide forehead.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Who was I to judge? I had two black eyes, dozens of stitches littering my skin, and a rat’s nest of curls.

Also, apparently, I had no standards when it came to men. Some people fought their demons. I fucked mine. Or was I the demon?

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