Page 42 of As Devils Love

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I gulp down hard, savoring his taste that’s still lingering in my mouth.

“I brought you a present,” Crue says, and slips a hand into his pocket, while the other returns to a similar grip on the front of my dress as earlier.

“A present?”

He doesn’t answer, just draws a mystery item from his pocket and sliding it against my bare lower half.

It’s cold, metallic and surprisingly large. “I’m going to put this inside you, Fiametta, and you’re going to leave it in until this meeting is over. Do you understand?”

“What?”

Instead of answering me, he does as he said he would. I’m soaking wet from our encounter, so the metal sphere slips inside me without issue. My body shudders at the foreign object’s penetration, but my gut tells me that it isn’t dangerous. At least not in the traditional sense.

“I want you to remember this, Fiametta,” Crue releases me and finds his cellphone in his pocket. “I said you’re mine, and I meant it. I’m going to do whatever I want with you, and you’re going to obey me.”

Claimed by my stalking assassin, who has set his heart on playing games with me… I must have lost my mind. This has to be a daydream from a padded cell. It can’t be real life.

Crue taps his cellphone and whatever he slid inside me starts to vibrate. My eyes instantly shoot to the back of my skull as it tickles the places I wish his finger had moments ago.

“You can’t be serious.” My breathing quickens and my eyes widen. “You can’t do this when I’m sitting next to my father.”

Another tap stops the vibrations.

“But I’m going to. Oh, and while you’re at the bar, I’ll have a gin and tonic on ice. Better have crushed mint and lemon…” He pauses. I can’t tell if it’s for dramatic effect or if he’s trying to make a joke that can’t penetrate the cum drunk fog in my mind. Maybe what he’s about to say next is the most important thing I’ll ever hear. “Or else.”

Or else.

That’s all you’ve got for me after what you just did?

Crue waves his cellphone in the air to further his threat. And with it, I realize, this meeting is about to get much harder to endure than I would ever have imagined.

Should I be worried about how excited that thought makes me?

Chapter Sixteen

CRUE

Ishouldn’t have done this.

Any of it.

Drilling Fiametta’s mouth and putting her in her place is one thing, but slipping a sex toy into her wet cunt while I’m sitting at a table full of men who want my head on a pike is pretty ballsy, even for me. Lorenzo may not know I’m the man he’s hunting, and Matteo might think we’ve formed a kinship beyond our original agreement, but how long will I survive if either of them finds out that this is all just an act?

My instincts tell me to run. They’re not just saying it, they’re screaming it at deafening volumes. I didn’t come here with Matteo, so I can make my escape whenever I need to. But I can’tpull myself out of this chair. Not while I thumb my cellphone in my pocket and know what delights are hidden inside Fiametta.

I’m risking a lot by taking this game further with my Little Flame, but I’m a risk taker by nature. Realistically, the chances of Fiametta’s having an outburst are slim. She’s going to fight back her urges to squeal at the wonderful sensations vibrating in her core, to avoid raising Lorenzo’s suspicion that something else might be happening here.

If she does, his first thought won’t be that she’s harboring a remote-controlled toy, either. Besides, when will I ever get a chance to have fun like this again? It’s not as if I’m going to be a staple at these meetings, especially not once Fiametta has met my blade. I should make the best of the time I have.

A few minutes go by before Fiametta returns to the table. She’s carrying a tray in both hands, with four empty whiskey glasses, a carafe of amber liquid in the center, and two gin and tonics with mint and lemon.

My, my, she listened. It almost feels wrong to pull my phone out of my pocket and press the icon that turns on the metal egg inside her. But I do it anyway, just as she crosses the threshold of the door, and I watch as the tray nearly goes flying over the self-important cunts of New York.

“S… sorry it t… took me so long,” she stammers her apology. If she can’t hold herself together on the lowest setting, what’s going to happen when I make it rattle harder? “I needed to freshen up on the way.”

Freshen up.

A nice way of puttingclean the cum, tears and spit off my face.Apart from a single missed spot of blotchy mascara next to her eye, Fiametta did a good job. But I preferred the look of a cum starved cocksucker over daddy’s little princess.

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