Page 92 of The Devil's Deal

“You like my ass, huh?” I pant.

“It’s the nicest ass I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.”

My pulse jumps to my neck, and my stomach hardens.

Why the hell did I become instantly jealous?

His hand stills, and suddenly, he flips on top of me, his eyes searching mine as my hands are pinned above my head with one of his. I never want his eyes to stop looking into mine. They consume me.

He’s a monster with the eyes of the gods. Soulful and beautiful.

He wakes up the parts of me that I keep hidden. The parts that crave stability. Love.

“Didn’t like me telling you about all the women I’ve seen naked?”

I ache from the lack of his fingers, from the way his cock rubs between my thighs.

Holding himself up with his other arm, he rocks his hips up and down, his eyes holding mine.

My mouth falls open, my eyelids drifting to a close, and before I can open them to tell him how much I don’t care who he’s fucked, he kisses me.

His tongue skirts around mine, his lips devouring my lower one. He pulls back, his gaze swimming with want. The fire in my heart, the flames deep in my soul, are ready to burn the lies from my tongue, the ones I’m about to give him.

“I don’t care who you’ve been with in the past,” I say defiantly. “I’ve had plenty of men who’ve enjoyed my ass too.” I pop a brow with a curl of my lips. “You’re not special.”

He growls, thrusting the length of his cock against my throbbing clit, my hurried breaths causing a rapid rise and fall of my chest.

“Liar. I think I am. Just look how wet this pussy is for me.”

His filthy words have me whimpering. I don’t recognize myself when I’m in bed with him. And maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe it’s good to discover new parts of ourselves when we’re with someone who makes us feel so alive, so craved. Even when it may not be real.

His lips are on my neck while his hips move slow, burrowing into me.

My hands are on his back, carving into his flesh, needing to mark him so he never forgets me, even when I’ll be miles away.

My heart skips a beat at the thought of leaving him behind. The lust is taking a front seat, leading all my thoughts.

It’s stupid. He means nothing. I’m using him for sex, which I need badly. That’s all this is.

Liar.

You like him. You know you do. You’re so fucked up, you like a man who took you as revenge.

The tears burn within my eyes at the glaring truth. I swallow away the pain, hiding it behind his shoulder.

“I have a charity ball at the house tomorrow night,” he whispers, his breath tickling up my neck in between kisses. “I want you there.”

He pulls back, peering up at me from beneath thick mahogany brows.

“As my date—of sorts.”

I scoff, faking a smile. “I don’t do parties with my kidnappers. It’s not my thing.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried?” His voice turns serious before humor lines his face.

“Ha.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t even have anything to wear. I doubt you packed the only evening gown I own.”

“I can get you a dress.”

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