by J. Kenner
“Tell me,” he demands his finger pressing harder so that I gasp with longing. “Tell me why.”
I actually blush, and I’m so not a blushing girl. “I told them no.”
He eases back, his lips tracing a path down my spine. “Will you tell me no?”
“Never.”
“Why not?”
“I want everything from you, Devlin. And I—don’t you know that with every man I fantasized about it being you?”
“Tell me.”
I frown, shaking my head a bit.
“Tell me one of your fantasies.”
I bite my lower lip, thinking of one in particular after a night in New York when both Alex and Devlin Saint had been on my mind. “You remember when I told you about the time you were in New York, and I was so angry because some fucking billionaire named Devlin Saint was building a foundation in my hometown right in the spot that Alex and I considered our own?”
“How could I forget?”
He eases me up, then leads me to the bedroom area, shutting the bookcase behind us. I expect him to strip, but he doesn’t. He just stretches out on the bed, his back against the headboard. He’s entirely dressed, and he urges me forward, then tells me to straddle him, so that I’m kneeling over him. He puts his hands on my hips and gently rocks my body, sending tremors through me as he continues to speak casually, as if completely unaware of the effect he’s having on me.
“You went out that night,” he says. “You wanted to burn off your anger and your memories by picking up some asshole and fucking him.”
“I picked the wrong guy,” I say, moaning a little at the way his rock-hard cock presses against his slacks and teases my clit. “And a white knight came to my rescue.”
“I was so furious with you.” He practically growls with the memory. “Furious and frustrated, because I wanted to toss you down in that alley and fuck you myself. God, El, I wanted to slam you against the wall of that alley and fuck you so hard your screams would rock the city. I wanted to take you to the edge, to make you truly afraid. I wanted to be the one who fought your demons with you, and yet I couldn’t tell you a damn thing.”
“I never had any idea it was you in that alley,” I admit. “Not consciously, anyway. But I think part of me knew, because I had this fantasy. I played it in my head so many times after that night, over and over, alone in the dark.”
“Tell me.” His eyes are hard on mine, their intensity matching the sensual edge in his voice.
I put my hands on his shoulders, my eyes locking on his as I grind myself against him. His hands go to my breasts now, teasing my nipples as I try to speak despite the rising climax threatening to overtake me like a tsunami. “He followed me home,” I say. “That man in the alley. He’d told me to leave so he could take care of the guy who’d wanted to hurt me.”
I tremble with the memory, knowing full well I could have died that night. I draw a breath, moaning as he tweaks a nipple, then force myself to continue, my voice rough and halting. “He, he broke into the apartment. The stranger who saved me, I mean. I don’t know how. But in the fantasy, I’m changing for bed, still shaken, freaked from what had happened. I’m naked and I hear a noise behind me, and I turn. And he’s there. Standing right there behind me.”
I’m breathing hard now, the memory of the fantasy coming back fast. “He got close, and I could smell him. It was your scent—Alex’s, I mean—and I was so confused. Then he looked in my eyes and said, ‘if it’s danger you want.’”
“What then?” He’s unfastening his slacks, tugging the zipper down. I rise up, then moan when I look down and see that he’s freed his cock. He’s so hard, and my body clenches, desperate for him. I meet his eyes, and he nods—one short, quick movement. I’m so wet that it’s easy, and we both gasp as I lower myself, taking all of him in, then rocking slowly as he strokes my clit, both of us breathing hard, our eyes never leaving each other.
“He pushed me back against the wall,” I say, remembering the way Devlin did that very thing. “He—he was angry. He told me I could have died.” I swallow. “And he asked if it was danger I needed.”
“And you told him it was.”
“Yes.”
I draw in another shaky breath, then meet his eyes as I ride him. “It is,” I say. “Or it was. Danger, I mean. I needed it desperately, because I needed to feel alive.” I lick my lips, thinking about all the times I’d stretched out naked on this very bed, touching myself as this fantasy played like a movie in my head.
“And what did he do? This benevolent stranger?” He reaches up with one hand for my breast as the other teases my clit. “Go on,” he says. “Tell me.”
“As if I could talk,” I grumble. “I can barely think.”
“Tell me.” This time, the words aren’t a request. They’re an order, and my body clenches tight around him in response to that commanding tone.
“He … he gave it to me,” I confess, closing my eyes as I draw out the memory. “Danger, I mean. It was rough. Wild. Hard.” With each word, I rock against him, my eyes closed as I let the memory of that night crash over me again. “I knew it wasn’t real, that it was just a fantasy, but I still got lost in it.”
Devlin’s hands cup my hips, helping me ride him, hot and hard. “Go on,” he says. “Tell me the rest.”
“I was on him, like this, but he flipped us over, and his hand cupped my throat. He was inside me, pounding into me, and I couldn’t breathe, and I was trapped.” I feel my pulse quicken in both fear and excitement as the memory rakes over me. “It wasn’t real, but at the same time it was, and I came so hard I thought I’d explode right there.”
I swallow, then open my eyes. “He looked at me the way you’re looking at me now. And he whispered, ‘there’s no pleasure without pain.’”
“He was right.”
My lips twitch. “He was. And he told me…” I draw in a shuttering breath, surprised by how hard my heart is pounding. “He told me that if I wanted that—if I needed it—I could come to him.”
“And did you?” he asks, as if we’re talking about a real man and not a figment of my imagination.
“No,” I say, my voice low. I hold his gaze hard. “I said I didn’t want him. That I only want you.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move. Hell, he doesn’t even breathe. Then he lifts a hand and brushes my cheek, and it’s only then that I realize I’ve begun to cry. “I knew, Devlin. Not consciously, but somehow, deep inside, I knew that my savior in that alley was you. And I—I brought you back here. In my mind, at least.”
He brushes a tear away. “That wasn’t how it had been between us.”
Our one night together had been sweet. Wonderful, yes. But sweet. So I understand what he’s asking. That shift from sweet too rough. From gentle to punishing.
“No,” I say. “But what else could it be?”
He studies me, and I know he understands, because he’s seen the way I flirted with danger. The way I’d pushed the envelope in order to cling to that thrill of surviving. Of flipping off Fate who had ripped everyone I loved away from me. But, dammit, she hadn’t grabbed me yet. It’s addictive, that rush. Even now that Alex is back in my life as Devlin, pulled out of the void into which Fate had thrown him, I can still taste the thrill. I don’t push in the same way that I had before, when the way I drove could have sent me off a cliff. I’m careful now because of him. Because I can’t bear the thought of rolling my car and losing him. But do I still crave that rush?
Yeah. So help me, I do.
He’s studying me, and I know perfectly well he sees that need in me. How could he not? Devlin has always been the one who saw me clearly. And then, before I can even wrap my mind around what’s happening, he lunges forward so that I land on my back with him on top of me, still inside me.
“What—”
But I don’t get the question out, because his hand is at my throat, and his eyes are hard on mine, full of the question. With anyone else, I would never say yes, but with Devlin
, it’s different. I trust him completely. I know that he understands my limits, and that he would never play this game if he didn’t know how. “Yes,” I whisper, then close my eyes as he takes full control, his cock thrusting deep inside me as my body tingles and a wild euphoria takes over me, painting my rising orgasm in bright colors and vibrant sensations.
I feel him inside me. I hear his groans mixed with his low words telling me to come with him. But I’m not me anymore. Instead, I’m sensation and experience, passion and pain, I’m at that place we all try to reach and so rarely get there. And as I burst apart—as I explode completely in his arms—all I know is that I actually reached the stars.
He eases off me, and I draw a deep breath, snuggling close as his arms go around me. “I love you,” he whispers, the words bringing me even more pleasure than the orgasm and filling me up all over again.
“I know,” I say. “I love you, too.”
I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, but he’s shifted us around. We’re both on our sides, spooning, and he’s behind me with one hand reaching over, lightly stroking my pussy. “Keep that up, and we’ll need a round two,” I tell him.
“I’d be okay with that.” He pauses, then adds, “You liked it.” As he speaks, his hand snakes between my thighs, as if how wet I am is proof of that truism.
“God, yes.”
“Tell me why.”
“You know why. I’ve gone from flirting with danger to flirting with you.”
He chuckles. “If that was flirting, I’m very interested in your definition of actual sex.”
I have to laugh. “Good point.”
“But you haven’t answered the question.”
“You know why,” I say. “Because I flirt with danger.”
“It’s more than that,” he says, and there’s a rawness in his voice that compels me to shift in his arms so that I’m facing him. “Pain, pleasure,” he continues. “They’re intimate.”
I nod, his words cutting straight to my core.
“You’re at your most vulnerable when you experience pain or joy. But joy can be ripped away, and pain can go beyond what’s safe. But trust … Trust is the most intimate thing of all.”
“Yes,” I say, my eyes pricking with tears. “I trust you completely. I know you’ll always take care of me. And, Devlin,” I add, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “I’ll always take care of you, too.”
Chapter Eight
Devlin dozed, but he never managed to sleep, and when he finally decided to give it up and pry himself out of bed at three in the morning, her words still filled his head. I’ll always take care of you, too.
It was truer than she realized. She’d always taken care of him, always been that compass that kept him at true north. His version of true north, anyway. He and Ellie differed on the details, sure, but they’d never wavered in the truth of what they saw at the core of each other.
The only real question was how he’d survived so long without El in his life.
And the only real answer was that he hadn’t. Not really, because how the hell could he have been alive all those years with a piece of his heart missing?
He pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms, then paused by the bed, looking down at her. At his woman who had pulled his focus from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. And why? It was a question he’d asked himself on and off for years. It wasn’t as if her beauty had claimed him in that first moment. She was pretty, no doubt about that, but Ellie had never had the kind of cover model looks that would have turned the head of an eighteen-year-old boy.
On the contrary, at sixteen, she’d been a bit awkward, as if she hadn’t yet become comfortable in her woman’s body. There’d been a shyness about her, too, and that wasn’t something that usually compelled him, not even back then. And yet compelled him she had, and with such force and power that she’d left his head spinning.
He’d had the same effect on her; he knew that. But why?
He’d never found the answer, and maybe it didn’t matter. But what he believed in his heart was that they were two halves of a whole. Proof that soulmates truly existed. Which was, of course, why he was only truly alive when he was with her.
He bent over and pulled the thin sheet over her bare shoulder. She smiled in her sleep, and his heart twisted a little. She was content. Despite everything that had happened last night and all the ramifications the press leak brought with it, she was sleeping peacefully, secure in the belief that no matter what, they would be just fine in the end.
He smiled, because he believed it, too. He only wished that they didn’t have to clamber over the rocks and barbed wire to get to that glorious place called Fine.
He stretched and yawned, deciding that coffee was very much on the agenda. He pushed the bookcase aside, opening up the room, then started toward the small kitchen area, only to freeze at the sight of the figure on the sofa.
It was only a split-second of terror—a flash of frustration that he had no weapon—then his body went slack, and he cursed his friend. “What the fuck, Ronan? You ever heard of knocking?”
Ronan aimed intense blue eyes at him, his golden hair gleaming in the dim lamplight. Ellie once told Devlin that Ronan looked like a Nordic god, and right then, that assessment seemed spot on. An amused god, apparently, as Ronan’s mouth curved into an almost mocking grin. “Yeah, well, I tried that, buddy. Rang the bell, called your phone. Wouldn’t have barged in, but under the circumstances I thought a wellness check was in order.”
Now his mouth outright twitched. “Almost burst into the bedroom, too, until I realized those weren’t screams of torture. Or, at least not the bad kind of torture.”
“You’re an ass,” Devlin said mildly. “And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t tell Ellie that. She’ll fry your balls for breakfast.” In all honestly, knowing that someone was listening probably ranked high on El’s turn-on list. But that wasn’t something Ronan needed to know.
“You’ve been working the leak,” he said, changing the subject as he moved into the kitchen and put a pod into the coffee maker. They hadn’t talked since the fiasco, but even so, it wasn’t a question. He knew his team, and he knew his friend, and Ronan would have taken point immediately.
“Been analyzing the video footage to identify the reporters who had early knowledge—the ones asking the question on the red carpet. Over a dozen shouted out, and we managed to track down five of them already. We should catch up with the rest of them today. Most weren’t answering calls or texts last night.”
“And?”
“Anonymous gmail from [email protected].”
“That’s it. No one tried to get confirmation first?”
Ronan scowled. “The one guy I talked to said he was willing to take the risk and go on faith. There’d be value in being the first one out of the gate, and for all he knew, he was. Toss it at you out of the blue, and if you flinch, then it’s true. But if you react with confusion and denial, he’d back off, tell you where the info came from, and everyone would publicly investigate.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t like they were stating a fact and facing a defamation claim. They were shouting questions, right?”
“For the most part, yeah,” Devlin said. “As for defamation, maybe, maybe not. But I’d hardly want more light shining on the allegation, so it’s a moot point.”
“Which they’d also know.”
“True enough,” Devlin said, then passed the first cup of coffee to Ronan before making another for himself. “You came over in the middle of the night to tell me that?”
“And to let you know I’ve put a team on you. Charlie and Grace. They’ve got eyes on the building now.”
Devlin nodded. His pride wanted to protest, but he agreed with the necessity. More than that, he was onboard with anything that helped create a shield around Ellie. “Let them know she’s the priority, not me,” Devlin said, knowing Ronan would understand he meant Ellie.
His friend frowned.
“I mean it. Their i
nstinct will be to protect their boss. The public figure who’s supposedly their mission objective. I’m altering that objective.”
“Dev—”
“I know you don’t understand it,” Devlin said. He didn’t know why Ronan had protected his heart all these years, only that his friend had done exactly that, holding his emotions close and working out any pent-up sexual frustration through vetted call girls, one-night Tinder hookups, and the kind of clubs that aren’t advertised and required a membership. “But you’re going to have to take me on faith.” His voice cracked. “I can’t lose her, Ronan. I always knew it. But after she went over that cliff and almost—”
He couldn’t even say the word, so all he said was, “I can’t lose her.”
“I do understand,” Ronan said gently. “And I envy you for it.”
Devlin waited for Ronan to say more; it was the first time his friend had even hinted at opening up.
But in the end, all Ronan said was, “They’ll keep her safe. They’ll keep you both safe.”
Chapter Nine
A shaft of sunlight coming in from the east-facing window wakes me, and I open my eyes to a new day. Hopefully a better day, though I have no complaints about the night I just spent in Devlin’s arms. He’d used me so deliciously, and now my body is stiff and sore in a way that I relish. Not because the sex was so incredible—though God knows it was—but because he’d needed it. Needed me.
And I’d needed him, too. The intensity. The passion.
Mostly, I’d needed to hear the promise he’d made to me. No secrets. Not ever again.
And I’d needed to hear him speak the reality I already knew. That Devlin had stayed hidden all these years for a reason, and now the wolves are circling. He’d told me they want to hurt him. To punish him.
And the best way to punish Devlin is to hurt me.
