Besides, I know Devin says he loves me, but I also know he’s not one hundred percent convinced of my feelings.
Doing this will convince him. Doing this will ensure he really is bound to me.
Do I love him? Yes, on some fucked up level, I think do. Despite what he’s done, despite everything. I love him because he’s a monster, because he will protect me, because he willkillfor me.
And what greater act can any man do for another?
I hear the sound of something whooshing and I realise it’s a flame. Does he have a little gas camp fire thing or is it a blowtorch that he’s using? I decide that in this instance, it’s better not to know.
“Lie on the bed.” He says.
Butterflies erupt in my belly as I do it. I’m not sure how I imagined this playing out but in my mind, this wouldn’t be done here. It feels too messy, too dangerous to do in a bedroom, what if the sheets catch fire? Where did he even get the brand from? Do these damned Blake’s just carry them around with them?
I feel the peppering of his lips on my lower leg, I feel the way his fingers rumble with my dress to unbutton it and get it off.
I’m shaking from both nerves and excitement. I don’t know where the brand is, I don’t know why he’s kissing me right now when he should be maiming me, but the distraction is nice, the distraction is working.
He pulls my leg up and out, and then his hot breath hits my core and all I can think about, all that consumes me, is his mouth, his tongue, him. I can’t think, can’t move, can’t doanything but simply lay here and take each incredible moment he gives me.
I lock my legs around his head, I latch my body onto him, demanding more, more, more.
He growls out, pinning me down and I realise how all his brute strength now turns me on, when before, so long ago, it used to utterly terrify me.
“My monster.” I gasp. “All mine.”
Whatever Devin thinks, I don’t know. He’s too busy eating me out like this one act might be his last, that he’ll never get another taste, never be granted another feast quite as decadent as the one I’m offering.
He slides his fingers inside me, teasing that part that makes me see stars and within seconds I come so hard I swear the entire room spins on its axis. I know I’m screaming, flailing, becoming a feral beast, that’s entirely lost to lust.
I arch my back, giving in entirely to it and just as I do I feel his body twist, his body move.
I register it a millisecond before it happens; the heat, the pain, the metal brand being pushed into my chest.
I scream and entirely different scream as he presses it into me.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking much.
Oh, I knew it would. I knew it would be agony and yet, as the brand is removed, the pain continues, the searing, white-hot agonising pain persists.
My body slumps, I shake uncontrollably as adrenaline and shock take over in equal measure.
Devin gets up, no doubt puts the thing safely out of the way, and then he’s back, holding me, soothing me, putting something onto the wound while telling me what a good girl I am now, how I took it so well, how he’s so proud of me.
I lay there, feeling half-dazed, feeling that awful pain on my chest that hurts so much I think I might pass out.
I take low, laboured breaths but it feels too much, all of this is too much.
“Devin,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” He says back.
“I hope I’m worth it now.” Somehow I had to say those words, had to get that thought out. He tenses like I’ve pissed him off and his fingers dig into my arms just a little.
“You were always worth it, Paitlyn. That’s the point.”
I open my mouth to reply but his lips are claiming mine, and, as he kisses me, I let myself go, let myself slip under, knowing tomorrow, he’ll take care of me, he’ll protect me, and if God is kind, then in a few days, we’ll get everything we ever wanted. Everything I know we both deserve.
Devin