Page 12 of Devotion

“I can’t believe he left you like this. Wanting. Unsatisfied.”

What the fuck?

My eyes flutter, but there’s no keeping them open. I barely catch a glimpse of a shadow kneeling at eye-level beside me, just beyond the edge of my bed. The thundering inside my ribcage has me questioning whether my heart will actually beat out of my chest. I’ve never felt fear so powerfully before, and it leaves me confused when the wetness inside my underwear becomes more apparent.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Am I alone?

Am I hallucinating?

Did I take my meds or just the sleeping pills?

I can’t remember, and it sends me into a mild panic.

“Relax,” that deep voice croons again, filling my head as the hallucination intensifies. That single word surrounds me in theater now, as if it’s coming from…everywhere.

Yeah, okay. I’m officially insane.

I writhe against the sheet when the phantom hand between my legs moves higher, to my underwear now. There’s pressure applied by one finger, enough that it lightly presses into the slit of my pussy, awakening my clit. The motion is slow and sweeping, coming to an end when the heat of a large palm rests on my quivering stomach.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he says, “but I had to. For you.”

The last syllable he whispers has a breath hitching in my throat, and my chin lifts toward the sound of his voice, this fantasy I’ve conjured in my sleep.

This fantasy I can admit I desperately need.

“Did he even notice that you didn’t come? Or does he really just not give a fuck?”

The tone of the voice darkens and there’s a sharp edge to it that wasn’t present before. At the sound of it, my fists clench, gathering handfuls of the sheet between my fingers.

“I can fix you. I canpleaseyou,” he promises. “But you’ll have to do something for me first. You’ll have to tell me you want me to touch you.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip, and I’m beginning to feed into it, the illusion.

“Say it, Layla. Say you want me to do this for you. Say you want me to do what he couldn’t.” The sound of my name leaving his mouth has the slickness between my legs surging.

I’m still unable to form words, but I manage to nod, giving my phantom the permission he seeks.

“Perfect,” he sighs, leaning closer to add a dizzying, “Good girl.”

I’m aware of a sound, a drawer opening and closing. Then… a faint buzz. My torso cools when my shirt’s lifted above my breasts, and then one nipple warms inside the damp chamber of his mouth. He sucks, the silkiness of his tongue contrasting the ridged roof of his mouth as he draws my flesh in deeper, a relieved moan resonating inside his chest as it meets my shoulder.

And with the contact, I feel something I don’t expect to, something that makes this feel like less of a hallucination and more…real.

A beating heart.

One racing so wildly it nearly matches the pace of my own. It’s jarring and has my eyes fluttering open again, but I’m dazed, confused by the many sensations, sounds, and emotions currently overloading my system.

As the device in his hand teases against my thigh, I force myself to stop questioning and just… feel. So, when he gently rests the tip of the vibrator against my clit, I arch off the mattress, readily spreading my legs.

He pleasures me through the fabric of my panties, making me soak them while he plays. My mind is all over the place, and I think I surprise us both when, without thinking, I manage to reach across my chest, cupping his jaw—broad, chiseled, textured with stubble. He pauses, and I question whether I’ve somehow startled a figment of my own imagination?

He seems to relax when I don’t freak out, and his jaw flexes in rhythm against my breast with his nonstop sucking. My clit’s so sensitive now, which means I could come at any moment. The outline of my nipple, rock solid and pointing skyward, glistens with saliva in the sparse light when he takes his mouth away. I strain to see him, but he’s hidden in the shadows.

I’ve had my share of hyper-realistic hallucinations before, but nothing like this.

Neverlike this.

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