Page 21 of Devour

I pull out my knife from the hidden pocket in my suit jacket.

“You have a knife?” She’s precious.

“Don’t move.” I hold the material at her side and slice an opening.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Finding out for myself how wet you are.”

Maeve frantically looks around the room to see if anyone is watching. “Someone could see.”

“Have you not noticed my guards? Nobody is going to dare get close enough to us.”

I slide my hand between her legs. “Soaked. I think you liked seeing me cut your dress. You wanted me to get to this pussy.”

“What – what are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to get my dice. Thank you for holding them for me.” I slide my finger inside and gently hook it around the dice. Maeve hisses and releases a muffled cry. I retrieve one and then the other.

Never taking my eyes off her, I take the die and bring it to my lips. I take my time licking and sucking her juices from it. Maeve’s chest rises and fall with each breath. Her eyes locked on to my every movement. The second die I use to trace along her bottom lip. But I’m greedy for more of her taste so I bring it back to my lips and finish licking it clean. She’s intoxicating. I can’t wait to have my mouth at the source later tonight.

“You’ll have to be careful with your dress. If any man sees your pussy, he’ll leave here with one less eye.”

“What if it’s an accident? You’re the one who pulled a knife out and cut my dress. Who does that?”

“It’s not like I had a pair of scissors in my pocket.”

Maeve presses her lips into a thin line. I look over her dress. The slit is at the side and isn’t that noticeable. If she sits or turnsthe wrong way will be the only time anyone’s lives will be at risk. I take her hand and walk us over to the Craps table. Giving a nod to the dealer, I let him know I’ll be using my own dice. After all, it’smycasino.

Maeve grabs my arm. “You’re seriously not about to use those.” It’s not a question.

“I am.”

“Can we wash them first? Dude. We can’t let other people handle those after…”

“Dude?”

“Never mind. Give those back.”

“Eager to get my hands back down there?”

“Can’t you shove them between my tits instead?”

“I can think of something else I’d like to shove between those gorgeous tits.” Maeve raises her hand up, but I wrap my fingers around her wrist. “Put your claws away.”

“I will if you stop speaking to me like that. I’m not your whore for the night.”

“True. I’m supposed to be your whore.”

“Fiancé,” she corrects me. “Now, please, don’t use those dice on the table.”

“But they’re my lucky dice.” I try to keep my facial features schooled, but I crack. Maeve is not amused. I guess I’ve fucked with her enough down here; it’s time to take this back to the room.

Eleven

Maeve

Ican handle most anything. I’ve been embarrassed enough times in my life that I’m not afraid to look like a fool. What I am afraid of is how hard my heart is beating. Stupid organ. Why does it have to be beating so fast for him? If I was ever going to hand my heart to someone, it wouldn’t be the likes of him. I might as well just rip it out and throw it away. That would be the ultimate form of looking like a fool. That’s the type of humiliation I don’t know if I could come back from: falling for Nicholas Deschamps.

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