Kill Switch (Devil's Night #3)

by Penelope Douglas

  She was one of the few people I didn’t want to hurt.

  I was nineteen, and she was too young.

  But her mouth. Her damn mouth, leaving little kisses on the corner of mine, her tongue teasing me, the taste of her skin…

  I wanted to swallow her up.

  “Something I Can Never Have” played, the shower ran, and it was like we were in the fountain as kids again. Everything was pure and sweet, just for that short amount of time, and this was how it was supposed to happen. It was always going to happen with us.

  I wanted to feel her on me. Her skin on mine. I wanted every inch of her.

  Carrying her to the sink, I set her down and she pulled up my sweatshirt and T-shirt, helping me get them off. I dropped them to the floor and held her face, kissing her again and again, my tongue meeting hers and our heat and breath mixing together.

  I pulled back, looking at her eyes as I slipped the bow tie off and unbuttoned her blouse. She ran her hands down my chest all the way to my stomach, fingering the grooves and dips, and I groaned at how good her fingers felt.

  This was the only way she could see me, and even though it made my blood race in the most unbearable way, I tried to be patient and let her explore.

  Fingers splayed over my collarbone, across my shoulders, down my arms, tracing the lines and muscles on my chest and stomach, and then she slipped her fingers under the waist of my jeans, filling my groin with heat.

  “Winter…” I barely whispered.

  I wished she knew my name. I wanted to hear her say it.

  Why did she feel so different than anyone else?

  She slipped out of her shirt, but when she reached around to unclasp her bra, I stopped her, pulling the straps off her shoulders instead and kissing a path up her collarbone to her neck.

  Wrapping my arm around her, I brought her body against mine, my groin rubbing between her legs, aching painfully as I kissed her forehead.

  “I want you to be my first,” she whispered.

  I closed my eyes.

  “I want it to be you,” she continued, “even if you’re going to disappear on me again, I want it to be you.”

  I dug my fingers into her young thighs, wanting to fuck her on this sink right now and kiss her until I couldn’t move anymore.

  I wanted her first time.

  “I…” Fuck, I needed to leave. “I…”

  “You. I want you.” She peppered my neck with kisses. “I love how the world looks when I’m with you. I want it to be you.”

  She sucked on my neck, gently sinking her teeth in, and my body exploded with a charge of electric current, my dick begging to get out of these jeans, and I slipped my hand into her hair, holding her mouth to my body. “Fuck.”

  “Do you have your phone?” she asked against my skin.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Take a picture of me doing this,” she whispered. “If you disappear, I want you to remember me.”

  Baby, I’ve never disappeared. I’ve always been here. This past summer when you were lying on the beach, I was there. When you went into the shop with your mom for a coffee, I was right there.

  She never knew how close I always was.

  I dug out my phone and turned it on, remembering I had the group phone. It didn’t matter. I’d transfer it later.

  “A video, okay?” I breathed out. “I want to have everything.”

  The way she moved, the sounds she made… I wanted to remember this when I couldn’t have her anymore.

  Starting a recording, I focused on us and closed my eyes, saving the sounds and images of her pretty face kissing me forever.

  “Keep going,” I begged.

  She licked and nibbled my neck, and I tipped my head back, gripping the back of hers. She took my mouth, sinking her tongue inside mine, and I went fucking weak. The phone spilled out of my hand, and I took her in my arms, holding her tight.

  “Goddammit, Winter,” I said low. “You’re killing me.”

  She trailed her mouth down my chest and back up again, and my muscles charged with desire so strong I couldn’t wait anymore. I pinned her hands behind her back and took over, kissing and biting her with her at my mercy.

  She gasped. “I love…” But she stopped herself, realizing what she was about to say.

  I hovered over her lips, anger and happiness mixing in with my desire.

  Love me? You love me? We’ve met three times, and she didn’t even know my name.

  But she was quick to recover. “I hate you,” she said instead. “I hate you so much.”

  I gripped her hands, feeling the passion rise, a little smile pulling at my lips. “Yeah, I hate you, too,” I told her, hefting her up into my arms and carrying her to the shower. “I just want a hot piece of ass.”

  “Yeah?” she egged me on.

  I dropped her to her feet, not taking my eyes off her face and I yanked her bra down to her stomach, pulling that and her skirt down her legs and off her body.

  She brought up her arms, immediately covering her chest as she stood there in her white panties.

  I stripped off the rest of my clothes and slid my hands into the back of her underwear, gripping her ass and pulling her into me.

  “Take your arms away,” I muttered over her lips.

  She hesitated, our chests rising and falling in shallow breaths, completely in sync.

  “I want to see,” I told her.

  Slowly, she let her arms fall away, and I felt her nipple and flesh brush my chest, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful face.

  I didn’t want her first time. I wanted every time.

  But I didn’t want to love her, either. I didn’t want it to feel like this. It couldn’t feel like this.

  When she found out I lied, she’d hate me.

  This had no future.

  It was just sex.

  Peeling her panties down her legs, I kissed her stomach, feeling her tremble under my mouth, and then I backed her into the shower, closing the frosted door before I pinned her against the black marble wall.

  Steam filled the air in a cloud, the hot spray sending chills all over my body as I leaned down and dove into her mouth.

  “Your parents are bad,” I said, repeating my words from the first time I scared her. “Your sister lacks any depth to be interesting. I told you I was going to hurt you. Didn’t I?”

  She nodded. “You promised.”

  My cock twitched, immediately nudging her between her legs.

  “I did,” I said. “I told you someday I’d hurt you.”

  She whimpered, rolling her beautiful body into mine, wanting my dick inside her.

  I gripped her jaw, planting kisses on her mouth. “I’m gonna fuck your daddy’s little girl,” I taunted, trying to work myself up.

  “Yeah,” she panted.

  “You want me?” I asked, lifting her up and spreading her legs for me. “Because I want to fuck you, little sweet.”

  She tried to ride me a little, rubbing herself on me.

  “So pretty,” I taunted. “Daddy’s Little Girl, right?”

  She nodded, tipping her head back for me.

  “Good girl.” I dipped down, sucking on a breast. “Doing what good girls are supposed to do for men. He’s gonna have a fuckin’ fit when he sees what I did to you. What I did to his little baby.”

  She threaded her hands into my hair, but I nudged her off. “Take your hands off me,” I gritted out, diving deep into my head where it was just action and no fucking thoughts. “If I want to be touched, I’ll tell you where. Understand?”

  She opened her eyes, looking a little confused, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in love with her. This wasn’t love.

  “Daddy’s Little Girl,” I said again, an ache wracking through my chest. “Daddy’s little slut that fucks guys she doesn’t even know when her parents are in bed, huh?”

  Pain crossed her face and she stilled, her body going rigid.

  “You wanna fuck?” I nipped at her breast, sucking i
t hard and trying not to feel the nausea roll through me. “Spread your legs and give me a piece of that cunt.”

  She sucked in a breath, fighting a sudden sob as her eyes welled with tears. “Pl—please,” she stuttered, upset. “Please don’t talk like that anymore.”

  And I stopped, my forehead in her chest, the sound of her hurt voice making the bile swell in my throat.

  I couldn’t do this.

  She deserved better.

  Even if it was just this one time, I could do it right.

  It could mean more. Just with her.

  “Can you be gentle?” she asked, tears in her throat.

  I shook my head, still not looking at her. “I don’t do gentle,” I said. “But God, baby, you are tearing me apart right now.”

  She threaded her fingers through my hair.

  “The less special I make this, the less you’ll be hurt,” I offered.

  I knew she didn’t know what I was talking about. But the only thing she said was, “You promised to hurt me. Don’t stop now.”

  “I’m afraid to…” I couldn’t catch my breath all of a sudden. “I’m afraid I’ll make you—”

  “I’m not dirty,” she rushed, remembering what I said earlier in the car and knowing what I was trying to say. “You’re not making me dirty. There is no you. There’s no me. This is us. Just us.”

  And that was all I needed to hear to carry her over to the marble bench and lay her down. Coming down on top her, I kissed her hard, and she parted her legs, bending her knees up and out, letting me settle in.

  I groaned, the warmth of her seeping into my groin as I pulsed and ached with need to be inside of her tight body.

  I hovered over her, staring down at her face and running my hand over her body. Her slender neck and smooth chest. Her round, pointed breasts and taut stomach. Her thighs and around to her ass.

  I positioned myself, seeing her body pump with heavy breaths, and I pushed inside her, every muscle in her body going still as she cried out.

  I came down, putting my hand over her mouth as I sank the rest of the way inside her, burying myself deep.

  Her whimpers vibrated against my hand as she panted, and I didn’t move, waiting for the pain to subside.

  A mixture of pleasure and anger coursed through, knowing it was done, and I’d ruined her now, but everything feeling so goddamn good that I knew I’d do this all over again if I had a chance to go back.

  Her body squeezed me tightly in heat, and my cock throbbed with the need to start pumping.

  I removed my hand. “Does it still hurt?”

  She paused but then started to relax, her thighs falling wide again and her nails retracting from my shoulders. “No.” She swallowed. “Not really anymore.”

  I slid my hand under her ass, grabbing hold, and with my gaze on her face, I pulled out of her and thrust right back in.

  She made the sweetest little sound, her face twisted up in pain and pleasure as she adjusted to me, and when she started to arch her back and roll her hips to meet me, I knew I didn’t have to hold back anymore.

  I pumped my cock, seeing her breasts shake with the movement and her throat bare and open for my mouth as she threw her head back.

  Her moans grew louder, and I put my mouth over hers, flicking her with my tongue and nibbling her lips. “Shhhh,” I teased. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

  She smiled, biting her lip. “It feels so good.”

  Yeah, but this wasn’t going to last long. It was taking everything I had to hold back. My dick was charged and ready, and I wanted to go harder.

  “Touch yourself,” I told her.

  I needed her to help me get her off before I came.

  She did what she was told and reached down, rubbing herself as I thrust inside her faster and deeper.

  She arched up and kissed me, raising her knees higher, knowing what I needed to sink farther into her. She was so wet, and I sucked the water off her breasts, neck, and jaw as her hand worked herself between us.

  She got faster and faster, started moaning, and then sank her claws into my shoulder again as she stopped touching herself and let me ride her to orgasm.

  I put my hand over her mouth as she came, her muscles contracting around my cock, squeezing me like a vise grip, and the sweetest little whimpers coming out of her mouth.

  “Did you like that?” I asked, leaving kisses on her lips.

  She nodded, and I pumped harder, going at her with free rein now and not holding back.

  My dick swelled, and my insides drove with a need so fucking good, and I couldn’t hold it anymore.

  “I’m going to pull out, okay?” I told her.

  She was quiet for a second. “Like on me?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  It probably took her a minute to figure out what I meant, but then she nodded. We weren’t using any protection, after all. I doubted she was on the pill.

  I thrust a few more times, unable to hold it anymore, and pulled out, stroking myself until I came and spilled onto her stomach. The orgasm wracked through me, and my head floated away from me as I closed my eyes and savored the feel of her and what she did to me.

  The wave spread through my entire body, and I stayed there, pretty fucking sure nothing compared to her.

  She was incredible.

  Why did that feel so different?

  I opened my eyes, seeing a little smile pull at her mouth as she reached out a finger, trying to feel what I left on her stomach.

  But I stopped her, pulling her hand away. “No, don’t touch it,” I said. “I’ll… Just wait.” I climbed off her. “Don’t move.”

  I left the shower, finding a washcloth and came back in, wetting it under the spray. Ringing out the water, I cleaned up the mess on her stomach, shaking my head at myself.

  What the fuck? I came on her?

  Jesus.

  Once she was clean again, I rinsed the cloth, soaking it with warm water, and then folded it before laying it down against her skin between her legs.

  I had no clue how she felt, but I’d gone at her pretty hard, and it was her first time.

  “That feels good,” she said.

  “Just hold it there.”

  She laid there, doing as I said, and I stood under the spray rinsing myself off and wetting my hair.

  I tried not to look at her, but I couldn’t stop myself. She was wet and naked and beautiful, and the only pure thing I’d ever had.

  And, of course, I messed her all up.

  “Why are you smiling?” I asked, noticing the curl to her lips.

  “Shouldn’t I be smiling?”

  Yeah, okay.

  “This feels like the time I sat in a fountain once,” she told me. “The water spilled around us, shielding us. Hiding us. It was like a world within a world. One of my worst memories but also one of my best.”

  I smoothed my wet hair over my head over and over again, that day like yesterday in my memory. If only she knew the boy she was with in the fountain was the boy who just fucked her.

  Did she still hate him?

  “Us?” I prodded.

  I wanted to hear her talk about me. See what was still in her head. If time had healed anything.

  But she just stayed quiet, not elaborating any further.

  “So was that red?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Red?

  Oh, right. The night of the motorcycle ride. She wanted to know what red felt like.

  I scoffed. “Maybe like orange.”

  “Orange?” She looked appalled. “Can it at least be purple?”

  I laughed under my breath, walking over to her and taking the wash cloth off of her. “Purple then.”

  I helped her to her feet, so we could get her clean, and she found her way under the water wetting her hair.

  “When can I see red?” she asked.

  And I planted my hand on the wall, holding her face with the other one, as I stared down at her and saw all the shit that was going to eventu
ally hit the fucking fan.

  When you find out who just fucked you, you’re gonna see plenty of red then.

  Winter

  Present

  “Mikhail?” I called, trailing down the hallway.

  I’d woken up, hearing his nails clicking on the hardwood floor.

  Music played in the house, and I could hear some people downstairs, moving freely, as well as cars driving up to the house. What was going on?

  After the bath, I’d locked my door, slipped on some clothes, dried my hair, and repacked my escape bag, counting my money again and making a mental list of where I could go, just in case. I knew I wouldn’t run, because that would put others at risk, but I needed something to keep myself occupied.

  And then stupidly, I’d fallen asleep, the worry, the fright from this morning, and the bathtub making me crawl into a ball on my bed and sink far away.

  I needed another plan. One, I thought, that involved Damon’s old friends. They could stop him.

  They would stop him for me.

  “Mikhail?” I said louder.

  My phone was still downstairs—hopefully fully charged, given that it was almost eight at night—but I heard a whine and veered into my father’s room, instead.

  I heard the faucet run in the master bath, but I didn’t give a shit if Damon was in there or not.

  “Mikhail.”

  My dog’s wet nose hit my leg, and he breathed happily, licking my fingers.

  I knelt down, smiling and relieved. “Hey.” I petted and hugged him, the dreariness of the last couple of days gone all of a sudden.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you…

  I’d been pretty sure Damon wouldn’t have taken him out and had him shot, but tears sprang to my eyes, so happy he wasn’t gone for good.

  “Why were you in here?” I scolded in a playful tone, taking his collar in my hand and standing up. “Stay away from him, boy.”

  “Ke nighg-ya,” an order came from the bathroom, Russian again.

  Mikhail pulled out of my grasp and ran away, the nails of his paws tapping against the bathroom tiles.

  “Mikhail?” I said sterner.

  “The dog was a mistake,” Damon said. “He won’t protect you from me. I know how to handle him. I know how to get things to obey me.”