Page 39 of Filthy Devil

I haven’t explored this place at all. The bedroom is bigger than just a regular-sized room, and there are three closed doors and an ajar closet door. Frowning, I can’t help but wonder what these doors lead to.

One is the way in and out. I know that. One is probably a bathroom door, but what is the third? Biting the inside of my cheek, I move toward the door that I am sure is the bathroom, and thankfully, it is.

Slipping inside, I take care of business. As I’m washing my hands, I start to look at my reflection in the mirror, but before I do, I take in the mirror itself, or rather its framing. Thick, deep, dark wood that matches this whole aesthetic.

Flicking my gaze around to the rest of the small space, I notice that the walls are a midnight blue, almost black. It’s so dark. The towels are light gray, and the shower is white with deep-gray veining.

God.

It’s spectacular.

I’m still completely shocked that he’s done all of this himself. My flabber is ghasted. I would have guessed that a woman did it, at the least, at the most, an interior decorator. When I’m finished taking in the whole room and being shocked as shit, my eyes drift back to the mirror.

I take in my face. And my neck. Tilting my head back slightly, I take in my throat. There are red marks where his fingers were last night and this morning. I loved it, too. I also love the sight of them on my skin.

I want more… everywhere. And I’ve never been into anything like this before, not that I’ve really been with someone like Nash before, but still. I didn’t know that people liked these things, that someone could enjoy the bite of pain.

I’d read about it before, of course, but I didn’t think that someone like me could like it… maybe even need it. Crave it. I leave the bathroom and head back into the bedroom. The bed is likely still warm from my body and seems extremely inviting, but my curiosity over that third door calls to me more than a comfy bed.

One step, then another, and finally, I reach out for the handle. Slowly, I turn the knob, then gently tug it open. Before I can see anything, I hear a voice. It’s a voice I recognize… well.

Opening the door completely, I find an office. Frowning, my gaze lifts to the desk a few feet away, and I see Nash sitting behind it. Blinking, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. “Do you have a secret door from your office to your bedroom?” I ask.

His gaze lifts as he turns his head to face me. I don’t know if anyone else is in the office, and I’m not sure if I care. I’m standing in the doorway wearing his T-shirt and nothing else. His lips curve up into a smile, and he shakes his head once.

“I do. Good mornin’, sweetheart.”

“Wow,” I breathe. “I didn’t imagine that’s what this door led to.”

He shrugs a shoulder, turning his body to face me. I can’t see below his waist with him behind his desk. He leans back in his office chair, his eyes searching mine for a moment. They sparkle, and I know that means he’s happy, or maybe it’s because he finds me amusing.

I’m not sure.

Furthermore, I’m not sure I care.

I just love it—the way he looks at me.

“Nash,” I whisper.

“Come over here, James.”

My feet shuffle forward. Moving farther into the room, I look over to the left and notice that we’re alone and the door is closed. Rounding the desk, I stand in front of him, feeling awkward as hell. I should have showered and put some clothes on for the day before I went exploring.

Nash reaches out, gripping my hips with his fingers before he gently jerks me forward. He doesn’t have to ask me anything. I’m primed and ready for him. I woke up that way. Sore from this morning, yet ready for more.

I climb onto his lap, my knees digging into the cushion of the chair on either side of his thighs. His fingers release my hips and grasp ahold of the backs of my thighs before he slides them up to cup my ass cheeks.

Letting out a whimper, I look into his eyes, silently begging for more. Always more. I cannot get enough of him.

“We’re in a fantasy right now. Once you’re no longer locked up here for your protection, you may not feel this way any longer.”

Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against his before I speak. “I’m not manipulating you, Nash. I thought that was my only play, so I was ready to play it.”

“It’s not your only play any longer?”

Lifting my head, I look into his eyes, searching his gaze. I can tell he doesn’t even like the question he just asked, but he needs the answer. Although I feel like I’ve said it over and over.

“There’s no need to play a game when the reality is this sweet.”

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