The Devil

by Ashley Jade

  “No.” My throat feels like sawdust. “I’m a good guy.” I give her a boyish grin. “Just a little unlucky when it comes to love.” I skim a finger up her arm. “I’m hoping the right woman can change that.”

  She blushes. “Well, if that’s the case, why don’t we find out?”

  I’m about to ask what she means, but she closes the distance between us and kisses me. A public kiss wasn’t part of the plan for tonight, but I’m not about to dismiss her advances when we’ll be announcing our engagement shortly.

  Therefore, I do what I’ve always done. Put on my other mask…and play the role I’m supposed to.

  Cupping her cheek, I kiss her like I mean it. Like she’s my everything. Evidently, I’m a little too convincing because there are some claps and cheers.

  Margaret, playing her own role, feigns the perfect mixture of embarrassment and happiness as she rests her head on my shoulder.

  “What do you say we go somewhere more private?” I’m about to decline because we’re at a public event, but she whispers, “I want to take care of my future husband the way a wife should…with my mouth.”

  I look around before I give her my answer, “Meet me upstairs in five minutes.”

  With that, I turn around and start walking…

  And end up bumping into the woman in the black and red dress for the second time that night. She looks different from before. Sadder.

  “Sorry,” I toss out behind me, heading for the stairs.

  It’s only after I’m entering an empty bedroom that I realize her eyes were glassy. As though she’d been crying.

  Chapter 22

  Cain

  Past…

  “I’m so close.” Her breasts bounce. Her back arches. Her cunt clenches. “Please.”

  “You’ll come when we’re ready,” Damien tells her, licking a line along her slit. Her hands and legs are bound, giving us easy access to do whatever we please.

  When he pulls back, I lean in. “So impatient.”

  Mrs. Miller moans. “Please, I’ll do anything you want.”

  I slide my tongue inside her heat. “What do you mean anything?”

  “Any naughty thing you want.” Despite being blindfolded, she looks down. “Name it.”

  I pull my mouth away as Damien comes forward again, planting a kiss on her clit. “Will you give me and Cain rim jobs?”

  I blink. That’s…intense. And definitely not something I’ve experienced before. Although I’ve watched Damien do it to Mrs. Miller a few times. Usually while I’m pounding her out.

  Mrs. Miller’s down for almost anything, but I’m not sure she’d go for something like that.

  “I’ll do it to whoever makes me come first.”

  Well, shit. I stand corrected.

  Without thinking, I tilt my head and flick her pussy at the same time Damien does. Our tongues nearly touch.

  He pauses and embarrassment courses through me. My only choice is to goad him and play it off as a dare. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little competition?”

  He laughs darkly. “We both know I’m not a chicken shit.” He circles her asshole with his thumb and looks down at my hardening dick. “Unlike you, I have no sexual limits.”

  With that, he goes back to eating her out.

  My blood burns. Damien’s managed to stir the beast. If there’s one thing I hate more than being teased and ridiculed…it’s losing.

  Edging forward, I crowd his space, spearing my portion of her cunt with my tongue. Not one to back down either, Damien laps her clit frantically.

  I match his speed, but he’s got the leverage since he’s currently working the spot that guarantees he’ll win.

  As if proving my point, Mrs. Miller goes fucking crazy. Screaming so loud I’m regretting not gagging her.

  Rage simmers beneath the surface, lighting me up. But that changes to arousal when Damien’s tongue brushes mine.

  I tense, and Damien makes a low hum in the back of his throat, mocking me.

  Not one to concede, I up the ante. The next time his tongue peeks out I nudge it with mine.

  He freezes.

  Smirking, I take the opportunity to pick up the slack, attacking Mrs. Miller’s clit like I’m a man on death row and this is the last pussy I’ll ever taste.

  She whimpers and bucks her hips. “Oh God. That’s it. I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”

  Feeling satisfied I’m going to win, I accelerate, flicking my tongue so fast I feel like the damn thing is going to fall off.

  That is until Damien’s tongue glides across mine, licking us both. And this time, it’s not a quick strike—he slides it inside my mouth, intentionally taunting me.

  The leverage I gained starts slipping and to my absolute horror, my dick twitches.

  Unwilling to accept defeat, I rise to the challenge, massaging his tongue with mine.

  He grunts. Mrs. Miller goes nuts.

  And I’m happier than a pig in shit, because I know I’m going to win this round.

  Until Damien’s hand moves up my thigh, creeping toward my dick.

  I still. My balls jolt.

  Damien, the fucker, carries on; licking us both while his thumb teases the now throbbing head peeking out of my boxers.

  “That feels so good,” Mrs. Miller yells as he continues pleasuring her. “Right there.”

  Heat zips up my spine when he pulls on the waistband of my boxers and my erection springs out, slapping my stomach.

  Part of me hates what he’s doing, but the other half doesn’t want him to stop what he started.

  Mrs. Miller sounds like she’s getting closer and closer. I drive my tongue between his open mouth and her clit, desperate not to lose.

  His hand wraps around my dick and I stop breathing. I don’t care who gets me off at this point, all I know is it better happen soon.

  He strokes me from root to tip. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Miller screams, unable to see the other situation developing below her do to the blindfold. “I’m gonna come soon.”

  I thrust into his hand, unable to stop the train that’s officially left the station. Even if I lose the battle of making Mrs. Miller come, I’ll win the war if I come and Damien doesn’t.

  He picks up his pace, stroking me so fast it nearly burns. I groan into his mouth, digging my nails into the carpet we’re both kneeling on while Damien keeps working the both of us.

  “I’m coming,” Mrs. Miller announces a minute before she starts convulsing. A strangled sound leaves me when Damien grabs the back of my neck and shoves his tongue into my mouth, right before he pushes me to the floor and gets on top of me.

  Jesus Christ. He’s full on kissing me now. I don’t know whether I want to puke or come.

  I can’t even move if I wanted to because he pins my arms above my head, grinding his dick against my hard-on. I hate his stupid father for building that fucking gym.

  I groan when his mouth descends down my torso. I swear to God if he’s intentionally taunting me when I’m at my weakest, I will shove a goddamn stake right through his heart, push my dick in his mouth, and watch him bleed out like the motherfucking devil he is.

  He nips my abs, intentionally avoiding my cock. Rage races through me again and I grind my teeth.

  My hands which are free now go to his head, but he’s quicker than I am because he maneuvers out of the way at the last moment.

  He straddles me, and I notice Mrs. Miller’s panties are in his hand. I’m about to ask what he’s doing, but faster than I can blink, he secures my wrists with them.

  I buck my hips, trying to get out from underneath him, but he shifts his weight on top of me, his lips hovering over my ear. “If you want it in my mouth, you better beg me like a good boy.”

  “I’m not begging you for shit.” His hand wraps around me again and he swirls the pre-cum around my tip with his thumb. “Fuck.”

  I flinch when I realize Mrs. Miller’s still tied to the bed. She can’t see what’
s going on, but she’s probably starting to wonder what we’re doing. Damien’s out of his teacher fucking mind if he thinks I’m going to beg him for a blow job in general, let alone in front of a woman. Especially when I’m being restrained by a pair of panties.

  Grunting, I drive into his hand. If he’s going to keep jerking me, I might as well get some fucking enjoyment out of it. Hell, maybe karma will take pity on me and I’ll end up spraying my load all over him.

  Teach the faggot a lesson he’ll never forget.

  He bites a line from my neck to my jaw, sending little zings of pleasure straight to my cock. My chest rises and falls, struggling to get enough air into my lungs as he works his hand up and down my shaft. I’m seething, the wrath I carry around daily surging into something dark and ugly. I dig my teeth into his bottom lip until I taste blood, but that only makes him grin. “Now we’re talking.”

  I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he sweeps his tongue inside, like the serpent he is. When I resist, the hand on my dick grips my balls, forcing me to open my mouth wider. Our teeth clash, and I shove my tongue down his throat, hoping he’ll choke on it.

  However, it only entices him, and he starts sucking mine, provoking me.

  “Suck my cock just like that,” I growl into his mouth. “You fucking pussy.”

  I should have learned my lesson about daring Damien from earlier because his finger brushes the hot spot between my balls and ass and I shudder.

  “Let me hear you beg.”

  Swear on everything, I hate Damien King with the fire of ten thousand suns.

  Swallowing my pride, I murmur, “Please, suck the cum out of my dick.” I drag my teeth along the shell of his ear. “If you don’t…I’ll walk over to your precious Mrs. Miller and stuff it down her throat until she suffocates.”

  Panic lashes through me the second the words leave my mouth—I’ve never let anyone see the volcano of evil I keep deep down inside—but it quickly turns to pain when he elbows me in the stomach…and then satisfaction when his hand grips my throat and he lowers his mouth to my cock.

  My heart beats out of my chest as he sucks me hard and fast, the pain giving way to pleasure.

  My balls lift and my hips spasm as he draws every ounce of cum from my cock and swallows it.

  I watch him with cautious eyes as he rises above me, his hand pumping his own dick wildly.

  My stomach drops when a slow, malicious grin spreads across his face, and I feel something wet hit my thighs.

  Horrified, I look down as another rope of cum lands on my now flaccid dick. His wicked grin grows as he rubs it into my pubic hair, leaving his mark.

  “Bye, boys. Be good,” Mrs. Miller says before she blows us a kiss and closes the door behind her.

  An awkward silence fills the room in her absence. Grabbing my clothes, I start getting dressed.

  “Wonder if she realizes her panties are missing,” Damien drawls, lighting a cigarette.

  I laugh, grateful for the diversion. “Hopefully her husband doesn’t realize.”

  He lights another cigarette and hands it to me. “I’ll shoot her a text in a few.”

  I can feel his eyes on me as I take a long drag. “Look, I didn’t mean what I said before, okay?”

  There. I acknowledged the first elephant in the room. Maybe we can put this past us.

  He doesn’t say a word.

  Mortified, I reach for my keys and wallet. “Fuck you, Damien.”

  I’m halfway to the door when he finally speaks. “Why? Because you liked it?”

  My hands clench into fists at my sides. “If that shit ever happens again this fucked up friendship of ours is over.”

  It’s been three days since the incident. Damien goes about his business, acting like it never happened.

  But me? It’s all I can think about.

  Why did I let him do it? Why didn’t I stop him?

  Does Mrs. Miller know what happened? Sure, she was tied up and blindfolded, but she’s not deaf.

  If something like this ever got out, it would ruin me for good. My father and brother would disown me…my dreams would be tarnished, and my life as I knew it would be over.

  And yet, I can’t seem to make myself stop hanging around Damien.

  He gets me in a way other people don’t. Almost like he has the same sickness I do buried inside him. Only, he shows everyone who he is. He’s not ashamed of the things he likes…the things he does.

  He’s free. Because he doesn’t give a shit about anything.

  Then again, it’s easy not to care when you have nothing to lose.

  Damien’s going nowhere in life. But me? I’ve got plans.

  “Fuck me harder,” Mrs. Miller screams.

  “Shut the fuck up, Kristy.” I yank her hair so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t tear right off her scalp. I’m getting tired of her demands. Tired of not hearing from Harvard. Tired of my father’s punches and my brother’s snickering.

  So fucking tired.

  Every day that goes by, I’m closer to snapping.

  Mrs. Miller flinches and a sharp bite to my thigh makes me hiss.

  Most of Damien’s face is covered because Mrs. Miller’s riding it while I fuck her asshole, but his eyes are visible.

  And right now, they’re flashing me a warning. Be easy.

  He’s such a goddamn hypocrite. He’s pulled her hair and told her to shut up plenty of times. Only when he does it, she doesn’t flinch like a little prissy baby who can’t take a dick.

  There’s a certain level of trust between them that doesn’t exist between us. Which is fine by me, it’s not like I give a fuck about her.

  It just pisses me off when he comes to her defense and has the nerve to give me shit for doing the same stuff he does.

  I’m getting tired of being the third wheel in this little shitshow.

  So fucking tired.

  And if she’s going to cry like a little bitch, maybe I should give her something to cry about.

  I yank her hair again, but she yells, “My phone is ringing.” She freezes. “That’s my husband’s ringtone.”

  “Not my problem.” If she’s quiet, I’ll be through with her in five minutes. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “He’s supposed to be at practice. Something must have come up. I have to find out what’s going on.”

  “Not.” Thrust. “My.” Thrust. “Problem.”

  “Cain this is serious. I have to answer that.”

  Ignoring her, I thrust harder.

  “Please.”

  “Say please one more fucking—”

  A sharp punch to my thigh has me stumbling back. “What the fuck?”

  Damien lurches up from the bed. “Let her answer her phone.”

  “I wasn’t done yet.”

  “None of us were.”

  Venom rushes through my veins. A vision of me standing on the sidelines while he’s screwing my girlfriend until he comes flashes through my head. As usual, Damien’s a fucking hypocrite.

  “She’s the whore who cheats on her husband, not me.” I point to my chest. “Why should I be punished?” I narrow my eyes. “And you’re one to fucking talk—”

  The sound of a door slamming cuts me off mid-sentence.

  “Did that cunt really just leave?” I charge for the door, but Damien pulls me back.

  “Chill.”

  “No.” When I try to punch him, he wrestles me to the floor. “I’m gonna drag her back here by her hair and make her finish me off.”

  Seething, I bolt up, but he slams me back down and sits on my legs. “She’s already gone.”

  The sound of a car starting in the distance makes me grit my teeth. I hate when he’s right, but I hate being revved up with nowhere to go even more. I need an outlet. I need somewhere to channel all this indignation bubbling inside my chest.

  I look down. Damien’s hand is hovering above my throat, ready to strike at any moment. Like he knows I’m a second away from losing my shit entirely.


  I hate the way Damien tries to control me. He’s starting to remind me of my father.

  My ears ring with fury and I lunge for him. I want to scratch his creepy eyeballs out and feed them to his goddamn piranha. Hell, I just might.

  As usual, I underestimated Damien’s strength, because he shifts his weight and pins my arms to the floor.

  “Calm the fuck down.”

  “Make me.”

  My stomach sours when his eyes flash with heat, mistaking my exasperation as an invitation, but my cock thickens when his hips rub against mine.

  Releasing one of my arms, he reaches between us, grazing my erection. “That for me?”

  “Didn’t think you were the type to ask for permission. What’s next? You gonna paint my nails?”

  Grunting, he licks a line from my Adam’s apple to my jaw. “I’ll ask you one more time, asshole.” The hand on my dick squeezes. “Is this for me?”

  There’s only one way out of this. One solution at my disposal. One way to put an end to the torment.

  “Only if you can make it come.”

  He smirks. “We both know I can make it and you do whatever I want.” He licks the seam of my lips. “Open.”

  When I refuse, he laughs.

  The joke’s on me when I realize he’s securing my wrist.

  I struggle against his hold. “No—” The moment my mouth opens his tongue strikes. Our mouths battle, dueling it out for control as he ties both my wrists together.

  “Good boy.”

  My breathing accelerates as he lowers his head, sucking and biting his way down my torso.

  “I hate you.”

  He pauses, his mouth perched right above my cock. “No, you don’t.” He gives it a kiss and I shudder. “You hate yourself for how much you enjoy it.”

  He’s wrong. A mouth is a mouth. I don’t give a shit about who’s on the other side of it. The only thing I’m interested in is getting off.

  “I think you got that backward.”

  “Is that so?” I moan when he laps the fluid leaking from my cockhead. “Because it seems like your dick sides with me.”

  “Yeah, he enjoys blow jobs.” I push my hips into his face. “But we both know you’re enjoying it way more than he ever will…because you’re obsessed with me.”