Page 28 of Devour
“You hate me, but you love my cock,” he growls. “Don’t worry, it loves you right back.”
Heat floods my cheeks at the vulgar truth in his words. He grabs the front of my bra and yanks it down, not even bothering to unhook it.
The straps dig into my shoulders painfully, and I arch my back to relieve the pressure, but it looks like I am offering him my breast, and he takes it.
His mouth closes over my breast—hot, hungry, and possessive. He sucks hard on my nipple, his chin creating a hollow against my skin. One hand fondles my other breast, his thumb swirling over the nipple until it’s a hard peak.
Then he pinches it between his fingers, sending a sharp wave of pleasure, teetering on pain straight to my clit. My back arches involuntarily, breath caught in my throat.
“Ahhh Luca—” I gasp, trying to pull away, one hand tangling in his hair.
But he doesn’t stop. The more I tug, the more insistent his mouth becomes, like he’s trying to mark me, claim me with every pull of his lips.
“Please, it’s too much,” I whisper, voice shaking.
He finally releases my nipple with a wet pop, leaving it flushed and overly sensitive. His breath is warm against my skin as he lifts his head slightly, his eyes locked on mine, dark and burning.
“Too much?” he murmurs, a dangerous edge in his voice. “Really?” he says. “If I slide my fingers deep into your pussy, they won’t come out wet?”
I bite back a response. The heat in my cheeks rises not just from embarrassment, but from the truth he already knows.
At least his attention is no longer on my phone, I tell myself as I hide it behind my back and try to switch it off.
Without waiting for permission, he dips his head again, teasing me with slow flicks of his tongue before pulling me back into his mouth, making my breath hitch once more.
My nipple starts to ache, I wish he would just switch to the other breast, but it’s already receiving rough treatment from his hands too.
His other hand, roaming my waist and back, holding me close, suddenly moves toward my hand on the table. As if sensing I’m up to something, he wrenches the phone from my grasp before I can switch it off.
He raises his head as he stands, releasing my breast. Holding the phone up in front of me, he says,
“You think I forgot?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luca
She looks up at me, then at the phone—lips parted, chest rising and falling like she’s just run a mile. Her legs tremble slightly around me. She doesn’t reach for the phone in my hand. Good. I’m in no mood to play fetch with her.
I knew she was hiding something, but I didn’t think it was a lover. How long have they been together? Does she love him? Enough to protect him from me? I can’t think straight past the fury clouding my head.
“Name,” I demand.
She says nothing, but I see it—guilt, panic, something flickering behind those eyes. She’s never defied me before, and it shows.
I click the side of her phone. It uses Face ID to unlock, so I tilt the screen toward her face. It opens. I go straight to her recent calls.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice laced with uncertainty
“Watch me,” I say without looking up.
I tap on the recent caller. I can see the panic on her face rising like heat.
“He is no one,” she pleads.
“He will be.”
The line rings, and I place it on the table, far enough that she has to stretch to reach it. I move her to the head of the table. Now the phone is farther from her.
