Page 20 of Cruel Devil

“As soon as I’m done here, you’re taking me to see Donny. Hear me?”

He whispers, “Sure, Angel.”

Those black eyes lock with me, cords in his neck standing proud as he tips his chin up and stares down his nose at me. I hump his leg even faster, my hips rolling. I grab his cock through his jeans, squeezing him so tight that his next words come out strained.

“Whatever my strong, brave little girl needs.”

I pant out a frantic, “Fuck!” and come with a blinding rush of euphoria. I collapse against him, writhing against his unmoving body, moaning into the side of his neck, biting on his earlobe.

I’m barely done climaxing when he presses the muzzle of his Beretta against my throat. He uses that pressure to force me a step away from him, then another, until he has me at arm’s length.

“Way to ruin my afterglow, motherfucker.”

“Drop it,” he says.

The scissors clatter to the floor.

“You’ll pay for this later,” he says, his eyes giving my impromptu weapon a cursory, dismissive glance.

“Why not now, Papi?” I spread my hands, and then tuck them under my armpits. “Unless you’ve actually decided my sisters might be important?”

He drops the arm holding his gun and then tucks it behind his back. Picks up his belt and jacket. Dresses himself.

Meanwhile, I want to spontaneously combust from impatience. I lift a hand, gesturing for him to slow down as he meticulously adjusts his clothes. “No, seriously, take your fucking time. It’s not like they’re off at summer camp, you know. Someone’s putting them through some fresh hell every minute of every fucking day.”

Savage lifts his chin, staring down at me without an ounce of humor.

“Keep talking to me like that, Angel. See what happens.”

Chapter 7

Vito

I close the door Savage left open and perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of Jane’s chair.

Rude.

I thought we were going to interrogate her together. We haven’t had much time to bond the past couple of weeks. Shit’s been crazy at the cartel, and that was before Nyx crash landed in our lives like a poorly piloted Cessna.

I spin Jane’s pocket knife on the palm of my hand, catch it by the hilt, and point it in her direction.

She doesn’t even flinch.

“So, you know my name already. What’s yours?”

“Jane.”

My free hand curls into a fist.

How does Savage keep calm during interrogations? Okay, he’s usually flaying someone’s face off at the time, and they start opening up a minute or two after that’s started…but she’s got a pretty face.

And if I cut her, there’ll be all that blood, and all that screaming, and I’m just not in the mood for that shit right now.

“Fine, Jane. What were you doing at Doc’s house?”

Jane glares at me.

I lean back, crossing my ankle over my knee. “Look, this isn’t going to be any fun if you just sit there glaring at me.”

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