Page 103 of Spit

Quinn let out a low chuckle in my ear. “Lexi,” he murmured again to get my attention. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

“You’re not?” I breathed, closing my eyes.

“We’re going to put on a show for the cameras,” Quinn said soberly. “I’m going to touch you, and I’m going to act like I am penetrating you. If you pretend to like it, this will be over quickly.”

My cheeks burned. “Why are they doing this?”

Quinn laughed without humor. “Because they are sick fucks?”

I took a deep breath but found that it failed to calm me. Instead, it filled my lungs with more of the damn feeder aphrodisiac. I turned my head to the side and coughed. When I looked back at Quinn, his eyes glittered with amusement. He found me funny.

“Shut up and just do it.” I hissed.

Quinn dipped his head. “I’m going to pull your pants down over your hips.”

I squirmed and closed my eyes again. It would have been easy for the demon to take advantage, and I could see in his eyes that the drug was affecting him too.

My stomach fluttered, knowing he was trying to protect me even though we had just met. I was another person in a cell with him, but he offered me kindness.

I had to trust him.

I let Quinn pull my pants down, trying not to flinch when I felt my core become exposed to the air, my wetness chilling on my skin and highlighting my vulnerability.

I looked up, but Quinn wasn’t paying attention to my pussy; instead, he had used my pants to form a thin barrier over his previously exposed cock. It wasn’t much, but he was planning to keep his word. He wasn’t going to fuck me.

I tried not to be disappointed—and I told myself it was the drugs making me feel that way.

“You’re okay.” He muttered, his breath moving the hair by my face.

I shuddered. “I’m okay,” I repeated.

Quinn rocked his hips, mimicking a thrust as if he was penetrating me for the first time. My moan was real as I felt his cock through the thin fabric of my scrubs. I supposed that the barrier he had chosen was ineffective but better than nothing.

I could feel the broad head of his cock, and the hard length. It rubbed between my legs, laying straight up towards my stomach. Quinn rocked his hips again, moving his head back so he could look at my face. His cock brushed against my clit, shooting a bolt of pleasure through me, and my teeth sank into my lip to keep from making a sound.

He was corded muscle and restraint.

His pupils were blown, drowning out his vivid green eyes.

The demon was just as affected as I was, but he was better at hiding it. The knowledge made me feel better, just a smidge.

It hadn’t hit me until that moment, but we were in a cell, pumped to the gills with an aphrodisiac while doctors watched through the cameras. Dancing monkey imagery aside, I was thankful that the demon had more sense than I did. I was about to let him fuck me until I could feel every inch, but Quinn was restrained as he pretended to rut into me, gathering speed.

Quinn inhaled deeply, and his arms shook under the strain of holding back. He closed his eyes in pain as his hips continued to buck. My thighs clenched together. I imagined how his cock would feel without the fabric between us. Somehow the barrier made it all the more explicit. Like we were two teenagers fumbling in the dark, afraid of getting caught.

Shame filled me when I felt my orgasm begin to build. He was hitting the right spots, and the fabric between us was soaked with my juices. I let my head fall back. Quinn let out a grunt and cursed.

I was too drunk to care. My eyes fluttered as I came hard; his face hovered over mine as he watched me. Drinking in my pleasure.

His hips stilled before the demon flung himself away, naked and spent. He staggered back, placing his hand on the wall, his nostrils flaring like an angered bull. Quinn cursed again.

I lifted the discarded pants, using the fabric to cover me. They were soaked, not just from my juices, but the residual lust and Gluttony in the air made it hard to care.

Quinn stormed back to his side of the cell and sunk down in the corner.

Chapter Eighteen

My sleep was without dreams until an alarm sounded in my cell, waking me from sleep. I held my breath, expecting another silver-laced deadly vapor to pour into my cell, but nothing came. No sickly-sweet taste or heavy drunkenness. I sat on my haunches, waiting for what I didn’t know.

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