Page 25 of Letters to Satan

“You’re up to something.”

Lips closed tight, I smile around my food and swallow. “I’m always up to something, darling.”

He stares, assessing, for another few seconds before surprising me by moving on from the conversation. “My proposition for the letter issue is simple. We’ll provide a worker to the supernatural mail center to help sort the letters. It shouldn’t take more than an hour a day, I’d imagine, and we can split the duties by alternating days.”

Slowly, I nod. “That sounds straightforward enough.”

“The post office will appreciate the extra hands, as well, so long as there’s no trouble caused.” He gives me a hard stare, but I only grin before he continues. “Any letters intended for me but mistakenly addressed to you will be intercepted and redirected.”

“That’s a reasonable solution,” I agree, a heaviness settling in my gut.

“Of course, a few might sneak through. If that happens, perhaps you could… findsomeoneto deliver them to me here, or I could send someone down to collect them.”

“Oh? You want me to dispatch a liaison up here every time a dumb human misspells your name?”

“No,” he says, gaze locked on mine. “I was hoping you’d come yourself.”

I suck in a sharp inhale at the hunger in his eyes, and I slide my chair back with a loud scrape, preparing to pounce. He clicks his tongue, and I freeze, hovering just an inch above my seat. “Finish your meal, Damien.”

“But…” A whine crawls from my throat, but he only chuckles as he returns his focus to his food.

“My god, how I love you needy,” he says, reaching down to adjust himself under the table while I watch. My lips part in another desperate inhale, wanting to see more.

“Nik,” I moan, my cock stiffening behind my pants, but he only smirks and nods towards my plate. He watches, satisfied, as I squirm in my seat until I’ve eaten every bite.

Dinner is deemed finished as he stands, and I almost lose it at the outline of his thick cock bulging against his pants. There’s a predatorial glint in his eyes as he walks over and grabs the arms of my chair, spinning me with a loud drag of wood until I face him. My face is level with his erection, and I whimper at the size of him. “Are you ready for dessert?”

“Fuck yes, I’m so ready,” I moan, reaching for him, but he snatches my wrist in midair.

“Did I give you permission to touch?”

Oh, my fuck yes.

Tingles shoot through my body at the rasp of his voice, and I tilt my face up to stare at him. “No, Daddy, you didn’t.” He doesn’t stop me as I lean forward, pressing my cheek against his cock and rubbing up and down. His lip twists in a snarl as he wraps his hand around my head and tugs me closer, giving a slow, controlled thrust against me.

“What’s your safe word?”

“I won’t need it,” I say, breathier than I mean to be.

“That wasn’t the question, Damien. What is your safe word?”

“Pitchfork.”

He smirks, but nods. “I want you naked.” I look up and meet his eyes again, and he raises a brow at me, daring me to argue.

Without a word, I stand and tear my shirt over my head, then unbutton my pants and push them to the ground. Another snarl rips onto his lip, this one joined by a growl, at the black lacy thong I’m wearing.

“Do you want me to take this off, too?” I ask, sliding my thumbs through the lace bands and tugging as I shimmy my hips.

His tongue flicks between his lips, nostrils flaring as he stares at my hard cock trapped under the fabric.

“Leave it,” he growls, turning and walking away. I blink a few times at his retreating frame, confused. Leather creaks as he drops into the seat behind his desk, his eyes finding me again as headjusts himself, giving a subtle stroke through his pants.

“Come, little prince.” My hand lands on my cock and I drag it along my length, tipping my head up with a soft moan. Niklaus leans forward with a warning rumble low in his throat. “I will not ask a second time.”

I strut over, my knees falling onto either side of his hips as I climb into his lap. He palms my ass cheeks, fingers slipping underneath the tiny strip of fabric and coasting up and down before snapping it against my skin.

His hand comes around to my face, two fingers hovering in front of my lips, and I open obediently. He pushes them into my mouth, and I try to suck, but he shoves them deeper until they’re bumping the back of my throat and making me gag.

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