Page 72 of Brutal Devil

“What are you?—”

Smack.

“I told you to take everything off,” he says. “And you didn’t listen, did you?”

I cast a glance over my shoulder to find him on his knees behind me, towering over me, exuding so much raw sexualenergy and potent masculinity that I actually whimper. My poor body can’t take this kind of sensual torment.

“Of course I didn’t,” I tell him defiantly. “Because I don’t take orders from you or anyone else, you?—”

Smack.

That last one stung a little. The arrogant asshole. I’m going to get even with him for this. I’m going to smother him in his sleep tonight. I’m going to?—

With one swift movement, he yanks down my pajama pants and my thong, and the kiss of the cool night air on my skin has me gasping. Then he’s kneading my cheeks with his big hands, and it feels so good that I lose my train of thought.

“Time for you to learn your lesson, baby,” he rasps, jerking my panties and pjs off and throwing them over his shoulder.

In the next breath, he lowers himself over me. His lips graze first one cheek, then the other. I feel his hot breath on my skin. I’ve never had a man this close to my ass before, and I’m self-conscious and aroused at the same time.

“Priest,” I protest.

The nip of his teeth sends a new pulse of heat to my clit, like a jolt of electricity. “You going to tell me no?”

I’m breathing fast. Hebitme. And I liked it. So much that I can feel the wetness seeping out of me. He must see it. Must know how badly I want him.

“No,” I manage softly.

He bites my ass cheek, his big hand massaging the other, opening me to him. “Is that a no I can’t lick this beautiful, sopping-wet pussy of yours?”

He kisses me again, getting closer to where I want him. To where I ache for him. His lips skate over the outer edges, avoiding direct contact.

“Priest,” I gasp out. This time, it’s a plea.

“You didn’t answer me.” His fingertips knead my flesh, parting me farther.

I’ve never been so on display before. I’m feverish, a fine sheen of perspiration on my skin, so desperate for his touch that I grind my clit into the mattress, seeking friction. It’s not good enough because it’s not him.

He inhales deeply, like he’s drinking in my scent, and I should be ashamed, but it only turns me on more. I feel like an animal, driven by instinct and the need to be fucked. But no, that’s too easy. Because I don’t just want sex. I want it with Priest. I want everything he’s promised me and more.

He bites my inner thigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it sends a wicked jolt to my already swollen clit. A helpless moan escapes me.

“What kind of a no was that, wife?” he demands.

“It was a no I’m not going to tell you no,” I manage, breathless.

The way he called mewifemakes my nipples ache. I’m such a mess.

He rewards me with a long, slow lick from my ass to my entrance. “Then tell me what you want me to do.”

I don’t know if I can say it. The words feel filthy. Wrong. So does what I want him to do to me. I try to remind myself that he’s a gangster. That having sex with him again is only going to further muddle the waters.

But then he spanks me, one sharp rap, and soothes the sting with his tongue.

I clench my jaw, not wanting to give in. To give him what he wants. But the longer I hold out, the more he denies me. He nudges me up onto my knees, my ass in the air, and then he lightly strums over my dripping pussy. Just a light caress, nothing more.

He’s edging me into surrender.

“Take your time,” he says. “I’ve got all night.”