Page 62 of Devour
She looks around at the mess in the kitchen as she pulls out a chair and sits down at the counter. “Ignore the mess and try this,” I say, helping her plate scrambled eggs and toast before handing it to her.
Noah and I both lean forward eagerly, waiting for her first bite. She rolls the eggs around on her plate with her fork like she’s unsure if she wants to try it but then she does, just to please us. As soon as she takes the first bite, I study her face, trying to read her expression.
“So… is it good?” She chews slowly, clearly contemplating.
“…It’s really good.”
“Yes!”
Noah and I shout in unison, pumping our fists in celebration. We eat together, chatting and laughing.
“You’re quite capable, you know,” she says with a small smile.
“When you say I’m capable, do you mean in the kitchen… or the bedroom?” I murmur the last part low, just for her ears, as I clear the plate from the counter.
She chokes on her orange juice, and I quickly drop the plate and rush to her side, gently patting her back while she coughs. When she’s caught her breath, I lean in and whisper,
“You still haven’t answered my question.” She gives me a playful punch on the shoulder.
“Stop it.”
“Ouch. That hurts,” I wince.
“Oh—I’m sorry,” she says, her expression shifting as her hand lands gently on my bare shoulder. I’m wearing a sleeveless shirt, so her fingers graze the bandaged side.
“I didn’t mean to hit the injured one.”
I exaggerate my pain, putting on a pitiful face. “It really hurts.” She leans forward and blows on it like she’s trying to soothe the pain, then I whisper against her ear,
“I don’t want your mouth there. I want it somewhere else.” She pulls back, blinking at me.
“What?”
I drop my gaze suggestively to my crotch. Flustered, she swats my chest.
“Seriously, Luca. Be serious for once.”
I snicker. “Give me a pet name. I don’t want you calling me ‘Luca’ when we’re alone.” Noah, watching us, suddenly groans dramatically.
“I’m going back to my toys,” he says as he hops down and heads out of the kitchen, "am not mad at you mom he calls back from the doorway before leaving. Smart kid.
I watch Ariel brighten up at his words. Now that we’re alone again, I turn her stool so she’s facing me. I step in close, hands on either side of her on the counter, caging her in case she gets any ideas of escaping. I nudge her thighs open and step between them, she leans back until the counter stops her.
“What are you calling me?” I ask, pinning her with my gaze. When she sees I won’t let her off the hook without an answer, she finally mumbles a word I don’t catch. I lean in, close enough that we’re breathing each other’s air.
“Say that again.”
“…Sin.”
I roll the word off my tongue slowly. “Sin.” It fits. Too well. But why Sin?
“Because you make me feel sinful and I don’t know how to repent.”
The confession twists through me like fire. She has no idea what true wickedness looks like. If she thinks this is the edge of my darkness, she’s wrong. I could break her, ruin her, drown her in every forbidden craving clawing at me. But I hold back—for now. Let’s see how she handles the vanilla me.
“I like it,” I murmur, my hand gliding slowly from her knee to her thigh before disappearing beneath her dress. “I’d like to update my list of sins.”
My fingers trail higher, stopping just shy of her panties. Her breath comes in short, shaky gasps—then her hand clasps over mine, halting me.
