Page 34 of Wicked Devotions

The attic is a wide-open space with the same dark wood floors as the rest of the house. The walls are angled and white. No shades cover the dormer windows, allowing light to flood the space on all sides, even late into evening the last rays of sun filter through. A large bed is shoved in one corner with a dresser and desk. Most of the space is taken up by easels, canvases, and shelves full of paint and supplies.

My eyes find Cy, shirtless and distracted, as he looks at canvas covered in angry black and red streaks. He looks sinfully good. His hair is piled on top of his head with a paintbrush tucked over ear and another one in his hand. The sweatpants he’s wearing are covered in splotches of paint in all different colors.

He looks over his shoulder at me. “Hey, what brings you to my lair?”

“I heard a crash and then you swearing up here.”

“Yeah.” He points to a small puddle of paint on the floor. “I dropped that, and it spilled. Did I disturb you?”

“No, not at all. It was a good distraction.” I walk over to look closer at the half-finished canvas in front of us. “What’s this going to be?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” He sighs and runs his hand over his forehead, smearing gray paint on his temple.

“It looks angry,” I murmur. The slashes of deep red, black, and charcoal look violent, like he dipped his brush in frustration and anger along with paint.

“Probably because it is.”

“It is, or you are?” I turn my attention from his painting to his face.

“Both.”

He holds my gaze until the intensity of his dark eyes makes mine drop. That’s a mistake though because I’m less than a foot away from him, and now all I can see are the tattoos covering much of his skin and the silver barbells piercing his nipples. A large white scar cuts across his ribs. Withoutthinking I lift my fingers to the puckered skin, running them lightly along its length.

“How did you get this?” I ask quietly.

“Being young and stupid.” His voice is just as hushed as mine. “Didn’t hurt as much as some of my piercings though.”

“Which hurt the most?” I look up at him.

“One you haven’t seen yet.”

My brows scrunch together as I look down at him trying to figure out what I missed.

He chuckles. “Want me to drop my pants, so you can see it in all its glory?”

“Oh.” My eyes drop to the sizable bulge between us as I realize he’s talking about his penis. “I…ouch.”

“It’s an apadravya. You definitely wouldn’t be thinking ouch if you felt it.”

“You might as well be speaking another language for all I know.” I look up at him with an amused smile.

“I can show you,” he says with a cheeky grin and his hand tugging on the drawstring tie of his pants.

“I’d probably faint.” I shake my head. It’s mind boggling to me how easy it is for him to put me at ease. But curiosity has gotten the best of me. “Can I ask you one thing though?”

“Anything.”

“Can I touch them?” I gesture to his nipples.

“You can touch any part of me you want, angel. Whenever.” His eyes bore into mine with fathomless intensity.

“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo or piercing. Something that would really piss my dad off if he ever saw it.” I lift my thumb to his nipple, gently running it over his warm skin. I watch as it hardens under my touch and goosebumps erupt from the flesh on his chest. I should probably stop seeing the reaction that got, but I can’t.

I do the same thing to his other nipple. A mental image of my own nipples being pierced enters my mind. I picture him doing to me what I’m doing to him and heat races to my core. It makes me curious, so I glance down to see that the already impressive bulge is now even more noticeable.

I look back up into his eyes seeking permission to follow my impulses. I don’t know what I’m doing. Somehow, he knows I need guidance so one of his hands wraps around my wrist and slowly pulls it down his chest. His muscles quiver under my fingertips. He’s just about guided me to his erection, when the sound of footsteps on the stairs up to his room startle us.

I take a huge step back, my cheeksflaming hot at being so caught up. When I sneak a glance at Cy, he looks irritated.

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