Page 65 of Devoured
But something inside of me didn’t want to do it anymore. I wanted this trip to be about Iris’s happiness. Not testing her loyalty. Hadn’t I tested her enough?
She went to the window and opened the curtains, taking in the town square. I stood at an angle, so I could see it too. The farmers’ market was in full swing; vendors hustling, a small platform with a woman singing into a mic while a man played acoustic guitar behind her, stands of produce, others with handmade designs. Local honey. Dreamcatchers. Jams and jellies. Mermaid ceramics.
Iris turned to me, her big eyes wide and eager. “A farmers’ market?” she asked. I nodded. “Does that mean—”
I nodded, already knowing what she was going to ask. Her friend had made a big deal out of it. “Teagen and Ethan are running late, but—”
Iris raced across the room and threw her hands around my neck, shocking me. She never touched me like that, not unless I was initiating our agreement. I picked her up, cupping her ass, and she kissed me with force, with passion, not letting me go, yet she was soft too, molding to my grip, melting into me. It was a side of her I had never felt before.
She pulled back and locked eyes with me, holding her gaze steady. An inner glow radiated through her entire body, a lightness that seemed hopeful for once. My heartbeat rattled in my chest, flooding my body with a weak sensation, leaving me breathless, making me forget my headache. She leaned forward, joining our lips, and her tongue searched for mine, and when I gave it to her, she moaned. I pulled her hips closer to me, carrying her, our lips wet and decadent.
She unbuttoned the top of my shirt, and I carried her to the queen bed. I laid her down and she pulled off her shirt, her pants, until she was down to nothing, only the ink covering her skin, each one a separate piece of art, and still so much of her embedded in each piece. The light from between the curtains lit the small hills of her breasts, her soft stomach, her toned arms. And it was Iris, all Iris, lying there for me. Her longing, circular eyes fixed on me. Her body laid out for me to take. I finished unbuttoning my shirt, my eyes on her the entire time, the healing scab on her cheek, her soft pink nipples, the bare skin between her breasts, her torso sloping to that dragonfly, her navel right below the inked rib cage. Took off my pants. My cock was hard, begging to rip out of the boxer briefs, aching to be inside of her. She licked her lips as she saw my erection, then her round eyes peered up at me. I came forward, one step, then two, until I kneeled on the bed, then leaned over and kissed her forehead.
I love you, I wanted to say.I love you.I love you.I fucking love you. My heart whispered those words over and over, but I couldn’t make myself say it. Didn’t want to ruin it for her, or for myself. I had ruined enough. Broken her trust by almost choking her to death while I was high. Let the ski-mask man hurt her, the man my connections couldn’t locate now. Instead, I ignored those feelings, plucking them away like petals of a flower, letting them fall to the floor. I pulled her ankles until she was closer to the edge of the bed, and I kissed her neck, her breasts, the sides of her ribs, her navel, running my fingers and lips over the fine details of each piece of art, the intricate lace of the dragonfly’s wings, the delicate curve of a rose petal, the tissue-like texture of a withered dahlia on her hip.
At her mound, the stubble on her pussy lips was softer now, longer. I licked and teased, circled everywhere—her thighs, her hips, her pussy lips, but waited for that final spot until she was twitching with need, itching for my tongue on her clit. And when my tongue finally went there, she gasped, the exact sound I needed her to make. I reached under her hips, pulling her closer to me. I might have been going down on her, giving her pleasure, but this? Devouring her like this? This was all mine. Heart and soul. I wanted Iris. From the chipped black polish on her toenails to the top of her dyed black hair. Iris was mine. The kind of woman I could devour night and day and night again, until we were both destroyed, until there was nothing left to do but to die a little death, one breath at a time, until nothing existed, when pain and pleasure were the same thing, and Iris swallowed my heart, chewed it up, and spit me out, devouring me too, never letting me go.
As her hips bucked, I greedily sucked at her orgasm, letting her wetness soak my face, burying myself deeper inside of it. Once she was done, I got on top of her, my hard cock inside of her with one sharp thrust, peering into those round eyes, seeing everything and nothing at the same time. Because there was only this. Only this moment. No past. No future. Just this. I moved my hips, beckoning her to come again, and she grasped at me, pulling on my back, her fingertips raking my shoulder blades. I went deeper than I ever had before and she groaned, wrapping her hands and legs around me, resting her teeth on my shoulder, then she bit into me.
I pulled back a little, looking into her eyes. An intense gaze, beckoning her to see the light. To see through me. To see every horrible thing I had done. And asking her to stay. To show me that we could win. That this last test wasn’t the end of us.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” I said.Because you are doing everything to me.
There were things I wanted to do for Iris, to make her happy, to make her never worry again, to give her that safety that she dreamed of, that I could never fulfill. I could feel her words coursing through her:Thank you. Thank you.Each thrust of her hips, each flutter of her eyelids, a communication meant for me, to show her gratitude, when I deserved none. I closed my eyes, trying to forget about the warnings racing inside of me:She shouldn’t be grateful.This is a test.To see if she’s truly loyal to me.
My phone rattled loudly in a heap on the floor, breaking us out of the hazy dream. Iris startled, then searched me, silently asking for permission to stop. To check the text message. To see her friend.
My heart sank, not wanting to end our passion, but I nodded. “That’s probably them,” I said. But she stayed at my side, waiting for me to give her the signal. There was my proof. Evidence that this wasn’t about us. This was about our bet. A business transaction that resulted in her complete submission, in exchange for her club.
“Get dressed, doll,” I said, my voice dull and tired. I blamed it on the withdrawals, though I knew there was more to it. “Go see your friend.”
She lifted her face high, beaming at me. “It’s been so long,” she said. “I can’t believe it.”
A thought struck me then, seeing her overwhelmed with joy, caught in disbelief. Iris needed someone she could depend on, and not being able to see her friend, was like removing her heart. She needed someone who could be there for her. Not someone who traveled from city to city, never truly settling down. I preferred having multiple penthouses that came with everything I needed, the artwork always blending in, never really letting myself settle into a home. Iris wanted stability. Sheneededher home. And that home was the Dahlia District. It wasn’t only about the business. It was about the family she had there. The home she had made. The home I had planned to destroy.
My home was always the next town away.
I decided then, watching her bounce around the room, that I wouldn’t tell Ethan my request. I didn’t need to test Iris anymore. I had my answers.
“Believe it,” I said.
