Page 49 of The Devil Within

We’re a mess. Our panting breaths fill the cavernous space of the two story room. The lights of the screens before us flicker across our sated forms. With a grunt, he slowly removes his fingers from me. I groan at the loss of being filled in both holes. When he pulls his softening length from me, I feel our combinedrelease drip down my thighs. He releases my gag, letting my aching jaw finally close.

“I love you, pet,” he whispers as he plants a soft kiss on my head before lifting me and carrying me to our room.

As he lays me gently on the bed, my eyes flutter closed. My body is completely spent. I just want to curl up and sleep. On the periphery of my consciousness, I hear the bathtub running.

“No sleeping yet, my love.” Luke’s strong arms lift me again, carrying me as he walks across our room. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

I open my eyes as he shifts me in order to step into the tub. He lowered the blinds, turned the lights low, and lit candles. Rose scented bubbles fill the tub as warm water rushes from the tap. Lowering us both, he positions our bodies so that my back rests against his front. His long legs bracket my stated form. He rubs my shoulders, arms, and legs in soothing circles as the warm water finishes surrounding us.

He turns off the faucet and pulls me back tightly against him, whispering in my ear, “I do love you, you know. I might be aggressive and possessive, and how we met might be a bitunconventional,” I snort at his nonchalant tone while explaining how he kidnapped me. “But I love you and I want us all to be happy. Happy, safe, and together.”

I lean my head back against his shoulder, soaking in his strength and warmth. My eyes fall closed again and we sit in a comfortable silence for a moment.

“I love you too,” I whisper as I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, the dark stubble scratching my skin. “I think it’s time you go get our girl and bring her home.”

He doesn’t respond right away and I worry I’ve said the wrong thing. I know he said she needed time, and he has a plan and a schedule. But quite honestly, fuck planning. When you know, you know. And I know that I’m ready for them both.

But then he finally speaks, “You’re right. It’s time.”

My master will be home in an hour. I have fifty-five minutes to get myself ready and get everything set up. Butterflies make my stomach flip in anticipation. I know I see him every night, but I want tonight to be extra special. I’ve made his favorite dinner, prepared his favorite dessert, and cleaned the entire house. I even purchased some new lingerie online for tonight. I want everything to be perfect.

We’ve been talking a lot about his plans for the future—a future with the three of us. Since I told him that I think we’re ready for Liv to know the truth, we’ve been talking about the best way to get her on board with everything. We decided it might be best if we take it slowly instead of springing it all on her at once. The more he described his vision of the future to me, the more the idea grew on me. It’s untraditional—yes. But who the fuck is to say that untraditional is wrong? He loves me, adores me, and treats me like a fucking queen. And on top of that, he’s willing to share me with the woman who holds a special part of my heart. Not many men would be willing to share their partner with someone else. He’s smart, capable, and I know he will take care of our family. He’s the type of partner that will make our life so much more than mundane. So, fuck tradition. I’m in love with both of them, why should any of us have to choose?

Last week, I got my period, signaling that I am definitely not pregnant. Luke wanted to continue fucking, telling me that a little blood doesn’t bother him, and as good as an orgasm sounded that’s just one of those things that’s a no-go for me. I do not feel sexy while I’m on my period. I want to eat chocolate ice cream in bed while wearing oversized sweats and crying. There’snothing attractive about that. Luke was so sweet and kind; he bought me a hot water bottle and brought me any random things I craved throughout the week. He was so patient while I told him no for sex repeatedly.

His kindness, his understanding attitude, his care for me, it all made me realize that he’s going to make an amazing partner for me and father for our children. He’s been talking about breeding me and knocking me up for weeks now. He even admitted to tampering with my birth control. I was angry when he told me about that at first. But now, I’m not so sure it’d really be a bad thing. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, love, desperation—whatever you want, but he’s an amazing partner, and I’d be lucky to carry his children.

But my aunt has left so I’m ready to show him just how much I appreciate his patience and how very ready I am to be stuffed full of his cum.

I showered and shaved, making sure to exfoliate with a sugar scrub so that my skin is silky smooth. Then I blow dried my hair and worked on dinner and dessert. Mrs. Prichett came by to help me with the cooking and baking. Steak with potatoes and green beans for dinner and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. The cookies are simple but Luke says they remind him of his mom, before he got put into the system of course, and the sweet simplicity of a boy who just wanted a loving home tugged at something in my heart.Damn hormones. So, of course I made them tonight for him. I want to prove to him just how much our future together means to me.

Swiping the liquid liner across the tops of my lashline, I curve it up and out. I’m going for dark and sexy tonight so heavy on the eyeshadow and winged liner it is. When I was finally out from under my parent’s thumb, I was able to find some things that I, as a unique and independent woman, enjoyed. And makeup is definitely one of them. I love playing with different shades,colors, and textures. It’s like art but on a human canvas. It’s fun and creative. I’ve watched way too many YouTube tutorials on various techniques and tools.

Once satisfied with the sexy smokey eye I was able to put together, I move onto my hair. Luke likes my hair down so I opt to leave it down in loose waves. Once finished, I check the time—ten minutes to spare.

Wandering into our massive walk-in closet, I get onto my hands and knees to crawl into the very back corner. Reaching out, my fingers close around the stiffness of the cardboard box I shoved back there earlier in the week. Pulling it out and sitting back on my heels, I open the lid. Inside is a strappy contraption that looked amazing on the model online but now looks horribly intimidating.Does this thing come with a fucking instruction manual?

Stepping into what I think are the leg holes, I try to pull it up but curse loudly when it appears I’m somehow in an arm hole.Fuck, I didn’t think about the whole getting it on process when I bought this stupid thing online.

“You will look so good in this, he’ll have no choice but to knock you up,” I remind myself as I take the clusterfuck of straps off and try again.

After several more attempts, I finally get myself in the faux leather strappy number. Two wide pieces of black material sling over my shoulders and come down to cover my nipples—barely. They are connected to another strap that sits horizontally right between my bust and belly button. From there, straps connect to pieces wrapped around both of my thighs. Looking in the mirror I’m blown away by the final result. I look damn fucking good.

I finally hear footsteps thundering up the stairs and despite my annoyance at his lateness, I hurriedly get into position. I get on my knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. The dark wooden floorboard digs into the tender flesh of my exposed lower legs,but I don’t mind the small bit of pain. I drop my hands to my thighs, palms down and flat. Then I hang my head down in submission. I do one finally check to make sure the strappy piece of pleather I’m wearing is laying against my skin as it’s supposed to. Everything looks good. Just as I settle into place, the door swings open. It cracks against the wall behind it, sending a deafening bang through the room.

The sound makes me quiver with anticipation. The times when he’s rough and animalistic are some of my favorite. My pussy leaks at just the thought of him using me. I love being his little plaything.

Light footsteps pad toward me hesitantly. The feeling of something being …offgnaws at me. I’m tempted to look up, but I’ve been trained better than that. I keep my head bowed down in submission. That is, until a female voice reaches my ears.

“Celeste?” the voice prompts.

I know that voice.

Opening my eyes, the first thing I see is combat boots—black, platform combat boots. My eyes scan up her form, taking in her ripped fishnets and her short, tight black skirt. The soft olive skin of her exposed midriff. I stop just short of her face, unable to believe that she’s really here.

“Celeste?” Liv asks again.

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