Page 18 of Devour (Blood and Roses #1)

Ariel

S eeing him at work in a suit always feels different, but I know underneath all that polish, he’s a monster.

Do his staff even know what kind of business their boss is really into? Do they have any idea there’s a monster lurking beneath that tailored suit? And then my dirty mind rears its ugly head.

A monster who fucks you whenever he pleases and you let him. I inwardly roll my eyes at myself as I keep typing, though I have no idea what I’m even typing. My mind is completely elsewhere.

I just want this meeting to be over. I can barely hear what Mr. Allen is saying over the noise in my head. I feel like a bundle of nerves, sitting this close to Luca. It’s taking everything in me not to let it show how tightly wound I am.

How aware I am of his presence. How every inch of me feels like it’s under surveillance. I can’t help but wonder—did his men follow me to the hospital? I was careful.

I really tried to lose them. I even jogged. Jogged. I can’t remember the last time I jogged. I’ve already rehearsed a few excuses in case he asks.

I could say I went to check on a friend…Luca’s deep, rumbling voice suddenly cuts through the air like a blade.

“Meeting’s over.”

My fingers freeze on the keyboard. My chest tightens. Did he find out? Did he think I said something to the police? Did his men actually follow me? Am I busted?

“Everyone out.”

I let out a small breath. He meant everyone—so maybe it’s not about me. Probably just some mob business. I quickly shut the laptop and stood, clutching it to my chest. I reach for my phone, ready to follow the others scrambling out the door.

“Ariel. Stay where you are,” he says—his voice sharp, final, and brooking no argument.

As soon as the last person leaves, he rises to his full, intimidating height and steps closer, crowding me against the table.

The laptop is the only thing separating us. I can feel his breath on my face, heavy and hot, like he’s barely holding back his rage.

“Who is he?” he growls, the sound low and lethal.

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Does he mean Noah? No… it can’t be. He doesn’t know about that.

“Is he the reason you left?” he demands.

My eyes sting with tears as I shake my head, trying to speak, but the words catch in my throat.

“Do you think of him when I’m buried deep inside you?” he growls.

“What? No!” I gasp, a wave of relief washing over me. “It’s not Noah, he just thinks I’m seeing someone else.”

“So, you are seeing someone?” he snaps.

“Luca, it’s not what you think—”

“What I think,” he cuts me off, stepping even closer, “is that you’ve forgotten who you belong to, the reason you’re standing here breathing. I think you need a little reminder.”

“Luca, you’re scaring me,” I whisper. “I haven’t been with anyone since I met you. No one.”

He searches my eyes, hunting for the truth, whatever he saw in them seems to calm him—just a little. Then—my phone vibrates sharply on the table between us breaking the trance. We both look.

The screen lights up with a name that makes my stomach drop: “Baby with two Purple Hearts.” Noah. That’s what he saved Dr. Eli’s number as.

A damn joke between them. I lunge for the phone, panic rising, but Luca grabs my wrist before I can reach it. He raises it in front of me; his eyes locked on mine—dark and burning.

“Does he know…” he rumbled, “how you scream when I fuck you?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. He can’t know about Dr. Eli. He can’t.

“Give me his name.”

I shake my head.

“Then I’ll fuck it out of you while he listens. I’ll take his ears, the mouth he kissed you with, the hands that touched you—while you watch.”

I don’t even remember yanking my wrist from his grip before I strike him across the face. The slap echoes in the quiet boardroom. My palm stings, probably hurt me more than it hurt him.

He doesn’t even flinch. He grabs my waist and lifts me onto the table. His hands grip my thighs and spread them wide as he steps between them, leaving me no way to close them.

The laptop I’d been clutching to my chest as a shield, he snatches it from my hands and flings it across the room without a second thought.

“You’re a monster,” I hissed.

A devilish smirk spreads across his face.

“A monster you can’t stop cuming for.”

His hand fists the front of my shirt and yanks. Buttons fly in every direction. He just destroyed one of my favorite shirts.

“I hate you,” I choke out.

“You hate me, but you love my cock,” he growls. “Don’t worry, it loves you right back.”

Heat floods my cheeks at the vulgar truth in his words. He grabs the front of my bra and yanks it down, not even bothering to unhook it.

The straps dig into my shoulders painfully, and I arch my back to relieve the pressure, but it looks like I am offering him my breast, and he takes it.

His mouth closes over my breast—hot, hungry, and possessive. He sucks hard on my nipple, his chin creating a hollow against my skin. One hand fondles my other breast, his thumb swirling over the nipple until it’s a hard peak.

Then he pinches it between his fingers, sending a sharp wave of pleasure, teetering on pain straight to my clit. My back arches involuntarily, breath caught in my throat.

“Ahhh Luca—” I gasp, trying to pull away, one hand tangling in his hair.

But he doesn’t stop. The more I tug, the more insistent his mouth becomes, like he’s trying to mark me, claim me with every pull of his lips.

“Please, it’s too much,” I whisper, voice shaking.

He finally releases my nipple with a wet pop, leaving it flushed and overly sensitive. His breath is warm against my skin as he lifts his head slightly, his eyes locked on mine, dark and burning.

“Too much?” he murmurs, a dangerous edge in his voice. “Really?” he says. “If I slide my fingers deep into your pussy, they won’t come out wet?”

I bite back a response. The heat in my cheeks rises not just from embarrassment, but from the truth he already knows.

At least his attention is no longer on my phone, I tell myself as I hide it behind my back and try to switch it off.

Without waiting for permission, he dips his head again, teasing me with slow flicks of his tongue before pulling me back into his mouth, making my breath hitch once more.

My nipple starts to ache, I wish he would just switch to the other breast, but it’s already receiving rough treatment from his hands too.

His other hand, roaming my waist and back, holding me close, suddenly moves toward my hand on the table. As if sensing I’m up to something, he wrenches the phone from my grasp before I can switch it off.

He raises his head as he stands, releasing my breast. Holding the phone up in front of me, he says,

“You think I forgot?”