Page 39 of Her Devil

It’s been on for a while now, but it feels tighter and more restricting than it did. The way he pulled it all together before locking it flashes in front of me. It was hot. It did turn me on. But spending the rest of the night walking around in the remnants of my own pee does not sound like fun.

His hand flicks and I catch the keys carefully in my outstretched hand. Without another word, I storm into the bathroom, flicking the flimsy lock before pulling up my skirt and unclipping the confounded thing, dropping it onto the counter.

Relieving myself and washing my hands takes just a few moments, but as I warily eye the belt beside me, I can’t help but take notice. He bought this for me, like some kind of gift, and spent an amount of time considering my needs before ordering or buying or whatever.

I turn the straps over in my hands, hard but smooth, cooled from the counter, but I know first-hand how quickly they warm to the touch. It’s solid and yet delicate, the sieve-like structure that sits between my legs clearly intended for its obvious purpose now I’m actually looking at it.

I’m still not sure it’s hygienic, but the fact that he even considered it warms me more than it should as I slide it up my legs, pulling it together snugly before clicking the lock back in place.

I’m not sure why I choose to do it. Maybe only because I know there’s no way I’m getting out of that room without it and I’d rather it was my choice than by force, but there is some kind of warmth that ripples over me as I move, intimately aware that it’s there.

His stare hits me like a wall as I unlock the door and step out, his gaze travelling up and down the length of me with interest. He holds one hand out, his thick thighs spread apart as I step between them, dropping the keys to his outstretched palm. But as I pull my hand back, his other snatches my wrist, dragging my hand to his mouth and wrapping his lips around my first two fingers.

His tongue travels up and down each digit, his gaze holding mine as I’m wrapped by his heat, my pussy pulsing with need. My thighs clench and his eyes flare, releasing my fingers with a pop. “Good girl.”

Yeah, that hits in a whole bunch of places I wish it didn’t. My hand drops to my side as his hips rise to slide the keys into his pocket, and I swallow thickly.

“Hmm.” I hum my agreement through a haze of lust, considering whether I should be lifting the dress and making myself comfortable over his lap. How much worse would it be for him to have me close enough to feel but not touch?

“Just had to check you weren’t taking care of yourself in there, sugar.”

He might as well have thrown an entire bucket of cold water over my head, his words dousing any arousal I might have felt his way in irritation.

“You… I… Wow,” I bluster, once again, attempting to form coherent words and failing. “First off, I’d wash my hands afterwards, stop being gross. And secondly, you’d sure as shit know if I’d been in there getting myself off.”

He shrugs, his smirk front and centre as I stamp my heel and storm out, making my way back down the stairs and outside, snatching a glass from a passing waiter as I go.

“What’s the system here?” I ask nobody imparticular. “It must be my turn by now.”

“You can be next, babe,” Tamsin placates. “Blake here is just letting Wyatt update his socials, then it’s truth time for Taylor and Jasper.”

I drink half the glass of champagne in one go, Wyatt narrowing his eyes as he hands the guy’s phone over and steps back. I have no idea how long I‘ve been away and who noticed what, but my pissy mood isn’t missed as Tamsin asks her guys when they were last caught checking someone out.

Of course Jasper has some contrite answer about how anyone he fancied a look at would know about it, and Taylor just winks her way, more than overtly checking her over, much to the amusement of the rest of the guys around.

Some cocky little shit of a man stalks up, flicking his token in my direction, and just for a second, I reconsider giving him the truth and instead making him do something truly awful, then Nick steps beside him and all my irritation settles on his broad shoulders.

“So, we’ve done all the basic shit, right? Asking him the truth about his tiny dick isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Whoever the hell this guy is smirks, shrugging his shoulders as everyone behind him laughs. “So, it also wouldn’t do any good to know the weirdest thing you’ve done on a dare, or the kinkiest thing inside the bedroom, or out of it.”

Nick’s fist clenches at his side, the other slung in his pocket as the guy shuffles awkwardly between him and Wyatt.

“So, I guess the truth I need from you is…” I ponder, reaching for the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s the most awkward thing you’ve ever been caught doing?”

“Ooh,” he says, running his hand along his jaw, pondering his answer. “Probably that time I was checking a loose thread on my jacket in a store window.”Checking yourself out more like.“You know the ones with the partly mirrored glass? Well, anyway, it turns out the mannequin was a store assistant and I didn’t realise until she moved. It scared the shit out of me.” He shakes his head with a chuckle at the memory.

“I don’t know if she thought I was weirder for checking myself out in the mirrored glass, or for screeching like a girl at a moving fucking doll.” The embarrassed chuckle that falls from him is almost endearing enough to let him off the hook, until he wishes Nick and Wyatt good luck and makes his escape.

“So, a dare… something for both of you.” That rules out the ice down the pants I was going to suggest; not fair on Wyatt. “Let’s have a striptease. Nick can do it for Wyatt and Wyatt for Nick!” Embarrassing? Yes. Actually going to hurt either of them? No. Going to hit Nick’s ego more than Wyatt's? Absolutely.

“Ooh, I have the perfect song for this,” Aimee squeals, grabbing her phone and turning up the volume.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nick grumbles as someone places a dining chair behind him and presses against his shoulders to get him to sit down.

The first bars ofDef Leppard “Pour Some Sugar On Me”ring out, and the smile that splits my face finally feels good. Wyatt’s jacket is gone, his shirt untucked, and as he pops each button to the beat, more than one person gets behind him, Nick even manages to crack a smile as he straddles one thigh much more naturally than I expected.

By the time the music cuts out, he’s unfastening the zip to his pants, the groan of frustration as the song ends echoing around the pool. UntilKellis’ “Milkshake”begins, and Aimee giggles, looking at Nick with amusement while Wyatt takes his place on the aptly placed dining chair.

He’s awkward at first, but as his gaze comes to mine, he starts to melt, to sink into the music. The jacket, the waistcoat, the shirt, and the ink that I wasn’t expecting to find running across his chest and over his shoulders. He grinds his ass against Wyatt’s chest, who swats it playfully.

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