Page 36 of Scream (Duchess & Devils #1)

I don’t dare tell him I won't be doing that, but I'll give the other two things a try. “Okay.” is all I say before he opens the front door of his office building, and I see Parker already waiting to open the door for me to get out of the drizzle.

“Oh, one last thing, as a friend. You need to talk to them both about how you’re feeling. Don’t create a divide or it’ll end in bloodshed. They can either share you, or you’ll lose one if not the other.”

My stomach sinks. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“As your friend, yes.”

But he doesn’t give me more.

“You think she’ll ever talk to me?”

He nods, his demeanor changing before my very eyes. He’s very protective of Raven. I love him for it. “She’s ashamed of her stutter, Sabrina. It’s not about you.”

We stop a few feet away from the SUV and Parker. “She has nothing to be ashamed of! It wasn’t her fault!”

Damon’s big, wise steely eyes look at me, and I can see the ‘you’re one to talk ,’ in his eyes but he doesn’t say it.

Instead he says, “I know. But I can say, having you come around, has made her a little more eager to talk more. We’re fine with her blinks and stares.

I swear, at this point we’re all communicating telepathically.

But, having you and Parker around, she’s reading aloud to us more often, without us having to ask, and she’s gotten so much better.

She wants to talk to you, Sabrina. She just needs a little more time. ”

I ponder over that, and nod in understanding. “So girls night, hmm? ”

The handsome devil smirks and his brows lift. “Girls night,” he replies before turning away to go back to Brooklyn.

I sigh and face Parker. “What was all that about?”

I groan. “That demented doctor gave me homework . He thinks a night out with Raven will do me some good.”

Parker grins that sexy grin, showcasing that one delicious dimple caused by his scar, and I can’t help but grin back. “Sounds like a fine time, Miss Winters,” he drawls.

Ugh, my pink parts.

The following Friday evening, ‘Girls Night' turns into Raven and I spending a godless amount on smut written by Verity C.

Huntington (Raven's suggestion) at a local, lesser-known bookstore.

We run up to my room afterward, and do all the sleepover things - face masks, a bag of buttered popcorn, and a large pizza shared between us, reading, and random gasping and squeals.

“The wave of euphoria I felt, even deep in my sleep, interrupting my nightmares was enough for me to begin to awaken, only to feel the soft inky tresses between my fingers, my hips bucking to meet the strong lashes of his tongue…”

I squint at the words then face Raven. “Hey Ray?”

She turns to me, and rests her open book on her chest and knits her brows together as if saying, yeah ?

“Do you… have the guys ever… woken you up by already… you know? Being down there?” I want to roll my eyes at how I sound like a fucking toddler.

Old Sabrina would never. Old Sabrina would out loud say pussy, cunt, twat. Now…

Raven blushes and nods, lifting her hands then makes her name sign for Damon .

I gasp. “That dirty doctor!”

She giggles. When I first got to RMU, he followed me there, but I didn't know. He would sneak into my room, and at first, I thought they were dreams. But then I realized they weren't. They were very real.

“How did that make you feel? Finding out it was real?”

Her lips roll inward, and she looks to the side as if trying to find the right words. And then she begins fanning herself and I release a giggle. It's the best way to wake up. Sometimes he's gentle, sometimes he's so sweet, but every morning-

“Every morning?!”

Raven nods and her hands begin moving again.

Every morning I feel so loved and cherished.

I feel good. I feel ready to take on the day.

It helps me remember that this is real and I'm not in my room at Lorne Wood.

It helps me feel safe and secure in my relationships.

Each one of my men is so different from the other.

My beacon. My anchor. My devil. Damon anchors me. I feel like he brings me back to life.

“It doesn't feel like… you know?” I still can’t say the word rape.

She shakes her head. But then again, I'm fucked in the head and I'm crazy for them.

Sometimes I like to be forced. It's called consensual non-consent and it's normal.

It doesn't help that I'm a brat and they know exactly how to deal with me.

It kind of takes away all of my thoughts when Mav takes control.

I just become a blubbering, crying slut.

He praises me the entire time. It feels so good to be able to just… let go like that. For him. Them.

I think it over a bit and just hum in contemplation.

I pick my book back up, so does she and we continue reading.

But my eyes only hover over the words, not taking them in, thinking back to Italy when I would wake to find Maksim holding onto me from behind.

All those dreams of him eating my pussy till I was a whimpering mess flood me.

How real it felt… how good it felt…

“That’s it Sabrina, come for your husband.”

Did he…?

My pink parts tingle.

Oh my god…

Oh my god.

I'm going to be so fucking late. I should have recruited Raven.

The Albertini's are holding a charity event for the Children's hospital at some outdoor venue.

I have twelve hundred mini cupcakes I've been baking since six this morning.

The only reason they even came out just a tad early is because I trained Parker how to frost them.

I look down at my apron covered in every ingredient I've used today just as the front door opens. My hair is piled on my head looking like an absolute hornet’s nest when Maksim makes it to the kitchen of his penthouse, eyes wide in surprise as he places his gym bag on the ground by the door.

He looks glorious, as always. Freshly showered in a tight white Henley and black joggers that strain against the muscle in his thighs.

I’m prepared to meet him with a smile. Until-

“What's all of this?” He asks, gesturing to the hundreds of cupcakes and fun-sized cookies on the countertops and table large enough to seat twelve.

“Angelina Albertini asked for my help catering tonight's event, remember? You told them I bake. I tried to tell her no and she kept insisting.”

“I… and you're still not ready yet? We have to leave in twenty minutes.”

I will always wonder if men hide the audacity in their ball sack along with their semen and that’s why it’s never-ending because it simply multiplies, or if it’s tucked inside of their anus behind their prostate.

Anger flushes through me. “I have been baking for hours so their Capo looks good, and that's what you have to say to me?”

Oh my god, I'm going to go to prison for murdering my husband. A crime of passion.

“Slaving away in front of an oven during the first heat wave of the spring and that's -” I stand up straight, taking off my apron and throwing it to the ground, hands going to my hips.

“No ‘thank you, wife. You didn't have to do that, and I appreciate you. ’” I say in a low, harsh voice mocking his slight New York accent.

“No ‘ what else can I help you with so we can finish this quickly? ’ Un-fucking-believable.”

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, turning to Parker. “Could you please begin to load these up while I get dressed so we can leave on time?”

“Sure thing, Miss Winters.” He replies around a cookie, grinning down at me, cookie in the side of his mouth. But I can't even be mad at him. He’s been helping me all morning. Such an angel.

“Sabrina-” Maksim calls out to me, but I throw my middle finger in the air behind my back, so it's facing him as I stomp up the stairs, grumbling . Christ, I'm turning into my grump of a husband.

I make it down in nineteen minutes. As soon as my foot hits the base of the stairs, the giant brute narrows those chocolate eyes at me and says, “That's what you're wearing?”

I look down at my glittering bubblegum pink corset that wings up on the arms, sparkles all the way down, my short skirt poofs out in layers to just above my knees and my silver shoes that tie at the ankle glitter, too.

I'm wearing a tiara; pink glittering fairy wings and I kept my messy bun.

In my gloved hands, I'm holding a silver wand with a star at one end and ribbons on the other. “Yes?”

Maksim steps toward me and then kneels. I suppress a gasp when I feel featherlight touches on my ankle, my vagina screaming IT’S HAPPENING!

REMOVE YOUR KNICKERS! As he skims those large fingers around my leg, tightening the strap on my heel.

I’m fairly sure my pink parts have gone delirious after being neglected for so long. They’re starting to turn on me.

“Are you trying to give the men a heart attack?”

I look at him confused when he stands up straight, tugging in the hem of his suit jacket. I release my lip, unawares I’ve been biting it. “No? It's for the children. Angie said this would make them so happy. There will be other fairies and princesses there, too.”

Dark eyes flash and narrow. “Change. You're not going like that.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

Even though I’m on the stairs and in heels he still beats me by at least three inches. He’s so tall. And he smells like cologne and citrus. A normal woman would swoon. “Bend over once and they'll see your ass.”

“I'll be standing behind the cupcakes giving them out. There will be no bending . Also, if and when I want your opinion on whatever I'm wearing, I'll ask. Now let's go.”

He grunts, and walks to the door, holding it open for me while I roll my eyes at him.But maybe I breathe a little deeper when I walk past him so I can sniff him inconspicuously.

Walking out to the lobby I stop by the front desk and hand Jorge, the security guy a glass Tupperware of cupcakes. “Thanks Mrs. Giordano.”