Page 23 of Devil in Disguise

And when she’d started getting unreasonable, his palm had itched. Literallyitched.He’d wanted to put her over his knee more than he’d wanted anything for a very long time. It had been everything he could do to hold himself back.

Consent,he’d told himself.You can’t.He’d never done it before anyway. Never in hislife.How could he need to do it so badly now?

His mental state had meant, though, that when she’d ripped his shirt open, he’d lost his self-control. And now, he was looking down and watching her fingers pulling down his zipper. And seeing her put her palm over him, right through his boxer briefs. Almost reverently. And then the moment when she looked up at him and smiled.

Had she ever seen a man like this, in the flesh? Almost certainly not. He was her first. Another hard rush.

He was going to get another first tonight, too.

She rolled off him and turned on the bedside light, and he saw her. Tiny skirt. Skinny white tank. All kinds of skin, including some abrasion on her neck from his beard, because he’d kissed her hard there.

He was never going to make this last. He was halfway there already.

He was thinking it, and then he was pulling off his jeans and tossing them. Getting that thin little tank top off her and then, when she was sitting up, staring at him with no smile at all on her face, getting his hand behind her and flicking the fastening of that bra.

Watching the pale-peach thing fall down her arms, until she shook it off. Seeing her sitting back on her knees, wearing only that little skirt.

He got his hand back there, too, and found the zipper. And then he took it down.

He didn’t take her skirt off. She did that. She was wearing another thong, he had a feeling. At least, the front was tiny. Pale peach, like the bra. And that was all she had on.

It was more naked than he’d ever gotten her. Pale skin. Small breasts that tilted upward. A gentle curve of hips, and when he put his hand back there—

The tightest, roundest little ass in the world. And yeah, it was a thong.

He wanted to stop and look, and when she wriggled a little? Hereallywanted to stop and look. Which was when she straddled him, got her hands on his shoulders, lowered herself down on top of him like she was luxuriating in it, and kissed his mouth.

Skin against skin. A single pool of light from the bedside, and the two of them sprawled across the bed. His hand cupping her ass, finding the edge of that thong and sliding his fingers down it. His other hand pulling her closer, kissing her deeper. And the feeling of her grinding herself against him, nothing between them but two insubstantial layers of fabric.

He didn’t want this to be over. He wanted to make it good. And then he sent his hand sliding slowly north, and … stopped.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice coming out a little hoarse.

Dyma didn’t answer. Instead, she swung herself off of him, turned around on her knees, and showed him.

She was pierced in the dimples of her back, down so low he’d never seen it. Two tiny silver balls, gleaming in the low light, right there at that sweetest spot.

He swore.

And then she looked back at him and got on her hands and knees.

It was that phone sex. He couldn’t help it that this position was his favorite, and that she knew it. Hey. He was arancher.And it was mighty hard to hide your, ah, reaction when she was telling you how you’d do it to her.

He liked to watch, that was all.

He needed her to come first, and all the same, he was on his knees, wrenching off his briefs, and then he had his hands on her waist, his thumbs on those two silver balls. He was lowering himself over her, kissing his way down her back, feeling her shudder as he did it. All the way down to those piercings, and then sliding his hand around to the front of her. Teasing around the edge of that thong, running light fingers over the band, sending a stealthy finger just inside it.

She arched her back and moaned.

Sending that hand up her side, then, until it captured a breast. Staying there for as long as it took while he kissed and bit her neck, let her feel the size of him behind her, and didn’t take off that thong.

He figured it was long enough when she started moaning louder, but he did it a little more to make sure. And then he sent his hand down to those silver balls again and moved his mouth to her back to kiss her a few minutes more.

He waited to touch her under the thong until she said,“Owen.”Until she was rocking, like she needed his hand there so much, it was killing her. He teased her a little more around the edges first, and then, finally, he slipped his hand inside.

Oh, yeah. There. Half of his brain thought,Plenty of lube, bro, because she’s little,and the other half didn’t think anything at all. It just kept on feeling that.

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