Page 19 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

My nostrils flare. I need his cock inside of me, stretching me to fit him.

Fuck.

E leaves the box on the counter and walks to me. His thumb and forefinger pinch my nipple, which causes my body to react.

“Finish getting ready. It’s almost time,” is all he says before leaving me alone.

Well played, fuck.

Turning, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

E has drawn exaggerated eyelashes under my bottom lid, along with my signature broken doll cracks. Smiling, I like it. It’s perfect.

My outfit for this evening is hanging behind me. I put on the white crop top with thick shoulder straps and a square neckline. Next I slip on my high-waist white skirt, which is flowy and hangs barely mid-thigh. I contemplated underwear but realized my clit is too sensitive to have fabric against it. Lastly, I slide on my high-top sneakers, which are also white.

I take one last fit check in the mirror, satisfied with what I see, then go to grab my phone and head out.

Just as I pick it up, it vibrates in my hand. Looking down, an unknown number flashes across my screen. Hesitantly, I answer.

“Um, hello?”

A familiar, older, deep voice speaks from the other end. “Rogers heard a commotion earlier from the master suite, are you okay?”

I’m confused—Rogers is here?

“Uh, yeah. Everything is okay. I’m okay. He is just confused, on edge. It’s so much change at once, he doesn’t know how to feel. But it’s okay. I got him, I promise.”

The line goes silent. I look at the phone screen, thinking his dad has hung up on me, but it’s still active.

“I know. In the past, it’s always been only me who understood him. Who worried and helped. It’s good he has you, Rain. I’m proud to have you in this family. He looks for you. I noticed that in my office earlier. He’s changed, it’s nice to see. But remember, I am here for you both. Anything. Please just call.”

My chest warms with emotion. This man only just met me and has accepted me into his family, his home, and approves of me and his son. He understands E and never shames him. It makes me proud to be a Sinclair.

“Thank you.” Is all I can muster up without rambling as this overwhelming feeling of happiness spreads.

“Have fun tonight.”

Then the call ends.

It’s caught me off guard. Then I think back to what E said—is he being kind to throw me off? My eyes water at the thought. No, he’s a good man. I am a Sinclair. He won’t hurt me.

“Rain! Let’s go. It’s time.” E’s loud voice brings me back. Clearing my throat, I slide my phone into my skirt pocket and head toward the front door.

Let The Reckoning begin.

Walking to the front door, I find the lights are dimmed and E isn’t here. Looking around, I can feel him but I can’t see him. As I go to open the front door—perhaps he is on the other side—a hand wraps around my mouth, and an audible gasp from my mouth follows. With a racing heart, I squeeze my eyes, thinking,Who is in my house?

Fuck.

Rogers.

My leg moves backward, looking to donkey-kick whoever the fuck is behind me, but my foot is met with a solid frame because their legs are together.

I kick them again, hoping maybe I’ll hurt them or take a knee out. After a couple tries, nothing. Then a sinister chuckle echoes in the space.

Instead of panicking, I start focusing.

His scent gives it away.

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