Page 53 of As Devils Love

Heat pools in my core as it runs across my mind. It should terrify me, but it doesn’t. Crue’s strange behavior has discovered the wildest part inside me. Everything he does is taboo. His desires, wants and needs, could make the devil blush.

I open the window, and he steps inside.

“I saw your light was on. I had to see you,” Crue says, but he doesn’t make a move to silence me with his hand or lower his voice.

“Shh,” I say. “Tomas is here.”

“He isn’t. Your dad called me over, tonight. Tomas limped in, hammered, while we were talking.” Crue’s eyes move down mybody. First to my breasts in my oversized shirt, and then to my legs sticking out the bottom of it.

Too bad the shirt’s just a little too long to see everything, huh?

“Father called you?” I ask, surprised.

His steely gaze never breaks. “Fiametta, it doesn’t matter. I’m here for you.”

The mix of emotions I feel from hearing his announcement about visiting Father, to the way he is looking at me sits uncomfortably in my chest. It’s a hollow void of fear and desperation, and I can’t tell which one is winning.

“For m—”

Crue snaps a hand forward and it wraps around my neck. Before I have a chance to figure out what’s happening, he pulls me into him, while leaning forward at the same time. Our mouths smash together in a passionate embrace that steals the air from my lungs.

He continues kissing me as we start walking to my bed. One hand remains pinned to my neck, while the other begins desperately searching the lengths of my body. It settles on my breast, and a muffled cry escapes me and into his mouth.

We reach my bed and Crue pulls away from me. He holds me in place a moment, before grabbing hold of my shirt with one hand, allowing his eyes to scan the outline of my body inside it.

“I want you, Fiametta,” Crue’s husky whisper sends a shiver down my spine. “I fucking need you.”

He presses the hand squeezing my shirt into my chest and pushes me backward. My knees buckle against my bed, and I fall onto it with a bounce. My legs part for him instinctively. I don’t need to say it back, for my body to give him the signs.

I need this too. Sweet release to clear my mind.

Instead of climbing on top of me, Crue lowers himself to his knees. He grabs my ankles with both his hands and spreads mylegs further, as his glimmering green eyes stare straight into my shirt’s opening.

“Take your shirt off,” Crue orders, before his lips land against my calf.

Frantically ripping at the material, I manage to pull the shirt over my head before his mouth makes contact with my knee. It doesn’t stop there, not even when his eyes snap to my naked breasts, causing him to growl in satisfaction.

When he crosses over to my thigh, he sucks my flesh into his mouth and bites down. It’s playful, barely crossing the threshold of painful, but it reignites the heat in my core.

He hooks my other leg over his shoulder to give his hand more mobility. While he continues to tease my skin, his hand slides up his body to be level with my panties. But Crue doesn’t rip them off as I expect him to. Instead, he grabs the wet front and peels it to the side.

“Oh God,” I howl as his mouth smashes against my pussy with no caution, pretense or care. He slides his tongue along my slit, coating it in a thick layer of my liquid, before he settles it against my clit.

Sucking the overly sensitive bud between his lips, he flicks over it with the pointed tip of his tongue in quick, precise lashings. And if that wasn’t enough to push me to the brink of orgasm already, Crue presses his thumb against my entrance. Still holding one of my legs in the air, to separate them as far as he can, the friction of my panties brushing against my throbbing lips, his mouth working its magic and his ever-inching finger, my mind melts in overloaded euphoria.

He drops my leg suddenly, and his hand makes its way to my breast. He squeezes it into his palm, while delighted noises rumble from below. But as his palm turns into two fingers tugging against my nipple, all the wild sensations boiling inside me hit their peak.

“Oh, fuck.” I sink my hands down to his head, grabbing handfuls of his hair as my entire body begins to tremble. And as if he were waiting for it, Crue drives his thumb all the way inside me, making me climax around it.

The sensation radiates through every muscle in my body. As if it wasn’t enough already, Crue continues to lick me, long after my shaking has stopped. It’s as if he can’t resist lapping up every last drop, even though he knows he can come back to the well whenever he pleases.

Satisfied that he’s cleaned me completely, Crue pulls his body back. His eyes travel up my body, but they don’t linger anywhere until they meet my eyes. He slowly eases his thumb out of me and brings it up to my mouth. I open it as far as my weak muscles allow, and he slides it inside, rubbing my juices all over my tongue.

“It wouldn’t be fair if I got a taste and you didn’t,” he says, groaning at the sensation of my soft tongue caressing his rough thumb.

I nod, floating in a haze of orgasmic bliss. He can say and do whatever he wants to me right now, and I’d agree. Just as long as he doesn’t stop making me feel this amazing.

Crue stands up, removing his digit from my mouth and rolls his black leather jacket off his shoulders. And with it, I realize that I’ve never seen him without his top half covered. He’s wearing a black tank top, but from the missing sleeves, black ink runs down his arms in various patterns. He rips his shirt off, exposing an incredibly muscular body beneath, and like his arms it’s covered in ink.

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