Page 125 of Dance With A Devil
Karter:You sharing her again? You sure?
Wells:Is this real life?
Me:She earned it. Told her if she wanted out of the party, she’d have to spend the night digging through her past. She did. Don’t know what she uncovered, but whatever it was…it wrecked her. So now we end the night on a high.
Karter:So we’re celebrating… with our favorite girl?
Me:Yes. Bring whatever will make her moan.
Wells:I could cry. But instead, I’ll just grab the swing and some silk rope.
Me:I’m heading to the toy room now. Meet me there, don’t be late.
The toy room smells like leather, sweat, and memory.
My favorite fucking room in this house.
I don’t waste time. Toss a few essentials into my black duffel, gloves, blindfold, scented oil I know she likes, and a pair of restraints lined with velvet. She’ll feel everything and still thank me for it.
By the time I get downstairs, the others are already piling in, each of them carrying their own kind of sin. Their expressions are wild. Hungry. Focused.
“Wyck,” Dash says, adjusting the heavy bag on his back. “You sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” I don’t hesitate. “She needs a release. And we’re the Devils who’ll give it to her.”
“Then let’s go find our brat,” Karter grins.
“Masks on,” Wells mutters, already pulling his down over his face.
“Who finishes with her?” Onyx asks. Calm. Curious. Dangerous.
I pause. Let the tension wrap around us like smoke.
“We all do,” I say. “We do this together. For her. And for us.”
“Fuck yeah,” Karter growls. “Just like the pool party. Except this time… darker.”
We all slip our masks on. The air thickens with intent. Our girl’s about to be worshipped by five men with no limits and no apologies.
We move.
“Maeve!” I shout as we hit the kitchen.
“Christ on a fucking crucifix,” she mutters, emerging with flour on her hands and murder in her eyes. “What now?”
“No fire. Just need the power cut.”
She crosses her arms. “You know the girls are three floors up. You want me to make them piss themselves?”
“Which is why,” I say, nodding to Karter, “he’s going to text Athens the second the lights drop.”
“I already typed it,” Karter says, grinning. “Just waiting on your go.”
Maeve looks us over, eyes narrowing at our black clothes, masked faces, and bags of sin. “You boys look like trouble.”
“We are,” Dash replies.
She sighs. “You know, I should’ve poisoned your tea years ago.”
