Page 34 of The Devil's Torment

“That’s beautiful,” I say.

He pivots. “The angel? Yeah. I got it on my eighteenth birthday.” His eyes cloud over, and he doesn’t look at me as much as through me. I get it. The angel is for Annabel, his murdered sister.

It’s something we have in common. We’ve both lost a sibling we loved deeply. He had it worse. He lost his mother, too. I’ve always known the De Vils’ story, but I’ve never truly thought about it before now. Suddenly, I see him in a different light. He has faults, many of them, and he’s morally and ethically corrupt like his entire family, but the clear love he has for his deceased sister proves how much his family mean to him.

“I’m sorry.”

His lips tip up on one side, and he hitches a shoulder. “It was a long time ago, unlike Elizabeth. Your grief is raw.” He comes to me then, his hands cupping my cheeks, his soul-deep eyes boring into mine. “Wewillfind the culprit. I won’t rest until we do. Elizabeth’s death will not go unpunished.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine: raw, urgent, demanding. The jolt of it makes me gasp, and as my lips part in shock as his tongue thrusts inside. His hands fall to my hips, his hold almost bruising. He steps into me, the hot length of his erection butting against my stomach.

Lust sweeps through my body. I break out into a sweat. Hope surges. Maybe I’m not broken after all. I’ve never felt a hunger like this. I want to crawl inside his skin and never leave.

I barely register that we’re moving until the backs of my knees hit the bed, and I fall onto the mattress. Nicholas follows me, his body covering mine, his arms and legs caging me beneath him. A warm palm skims down my side, the other cupping my right breast through the delicate lace bra. I don’t know what to do with my arms, so I lock them around his neck and burrow my fingers into his hair, the strands softer than I imagined.

A groan rumbles through his chest as I scratch his scalp. I think he likes that. I do it again, and I’m rewarded with another guttural groan.

Yep. Hedefinitelylikes that.

Cool air hits my chest. When did he take off my bra? My knickers are gone, too, and my hold-ups.

Oh, no.

No.

No.

It’s happening again. It’s happened every single time I’ve had sex. My mind disconnects, and the messages from my body don’t get through. The lust I felt when he kissed me isn’t there any longer. I’m cold, empty. I try to refocus, to recapture those earlier feelings when my body was on fire and the muscles of my abdomen undulated with pleasure, but there’s only a cavernous void inside me.

Nicholas doesn’t appear to notice, too busy with his head between my breasts, nuzzling me. It’s different for guys. They can stick their penis in a donut hole and get themselves off.

“Take my boxers off,” he murmurs in my ear, his breathy voice jolting me back to the present.

Focus. Breathe. Act. You can do this.

I make a few noises, a groan here, a fake gasp there, but when I push off his boxers with my heels, the gasp that falls out of me is real.

Nicholas De Vil is pierced.

The silver barbell embedded in the crown of his penis glints in the dim light thrown out by two bedside lamps. He must catch my wide-eyed stare because his hands leave my breasts and cup my face.

“It’s okay. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“I bet it hurt when they put it in,” I mumble.

He chuckles. “Like being caressed by butterfly wings.”

Burying his face in my neck, he kisses me there, then moves south. Down, down, down until his head is between my legs and his tongue is licking at me, and I feel… nothing.

I feel nothing.

It’s true, then. There’s something wrong with me. How can I not writhe on the bed, scissoring my legs as the man I’ve obsessed over for years puts his tongue inside me? Tears fill my eyes, but Nicholas doesn’t see them.

I don’t want him to see them.

After what I presume is the right amount of time, I kick into acting mode. I start to quiver, my moans growing in volume, my pelvis thrusting up to meet his eager mouth. I cry out, his name on my tongue, and ash in my throat.

He kisses his way up my body, pausing to circle his tongue inside my navel, stopping to kiss my breasts, to suck my nipples. Eventually, he’s there, looming over me, his eyes shining, probably silently congratulating himself for being such a man and having his woman come undone.

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