Page 138 of Deliver us from Evil

This is wrong.

It’s not written in stone or anything, but when there’s anything more than kissing, everyone’s invited.

But Cass has been tempting me ever since my last bandage came off. Luring me away, kissing me until I’m breathless, and then trying to get into my pants.

I’ve fought him off more times than I can count, and I’m fucking proud of that.

But tonight…

He strokes my pussy, sending tingles up my body. I tangle my hands in his hair as he plants tiny kisses on my inner thighs, his eyes never leaving mine.

Like he’s daring me to tell him to stop. Fuck, I want to. Because this feels so wrong—just the two of us, out here in the dark but so very exposed. All it would take is one of my men waking up and wandering onto the balcony for a smoke, and they’d know what we did.

Alone.

When he spreads my legs even wider, ducks down, and drags his tongue through my slit, I almost yank out all of his hair.

I force his mouth harder against my pussy, his tongue deeper. I lift my hips, and start rocking against his mouth, one hand behind me for balance, the other keeping his head exactly where I want it.

And fuck it feels good.

Diabolically good.

I never want it to end.

Seconds later, I’m already close to coming.

He draws back, licks his lips as he stares up at me. He slides two fingers inside me, beckoning. “Come on, Princess. You know you want to.”

Oh God, I’m like fucking putty in his hands. He played the long game and I guess he finally won. I don’t have the willpower to resist him anymore.

He licks my pussy again, his fingers still deep inside me, teasing me. Then he starts sliding them in and out. “This could be my cock,” he murmurs. “Stretching you. Filling you.”

I shake my head. “We can’t.”

His eyes narrow. “That’s not the right answer, Princess.”

“Cass, come on—”

He grabs me around the waist and tugs me off the island. His mouth grinds against mine as he drags me back to the edge of the pool.

And I fall for it.

Because I think he’s accepted my decision.

We climb out of the pool. He leads me back into the house, not bothering to pick up my robe, not letting me stop for my clothes.

But we don’t go upstairs.

He yanks me away from the stairs when I head for them. When I resist, just for a second, he picks me off my feet and carries me to a chaise lounge in the living room.

“Hey, I thought we were—”

“Sorry, my precious little cock tease.” He kisses me again, hard, and drops me on the couch. “This is happening.”

I push up onto my elbows. “But it’s not—”

He grabs my hair, yanks back my head. “Say ‘wrong’ one more time…”

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