Chapter 15

Chapter 15

After a power nap I didn’t mean to take, it’s time for another clothing change. At this rate, I’m going to be wearing my coat and nothing else home, but it’s more than worth it. I pull on the bra and panties I skipped the last time we fucked and head back into the bedroom. Devan’s sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me, and the look on his face when he registers what I’m wearing is more than reward enough for the clothing choice.

“Look at you, all dressed up, just for me.”

“Do you like it?” I do a slow spin. Obviously he does, but my heart still lodges in my throat while I wait for his answer.

Finally, Devan leans forward and props his elbows on his knees. “You trying to provoke me, birthday girl?”

I have to fight to keep from squirming. This is what I need; to focus on the here and now and not what comes later. This man can keep me grounded…at least until it’s time to let me go forever. I try for a smile. “Maybe a little.”

“Though so.” He motions me closer. “Get over here and let me look at you properly.”

I cross to him on suddenly unsteady legs and set my hand in his. Devan tugs me closer yet, situating me between his thighs. He eyes me. “This shit is expensive.”

“It’s designer. One of a kind, and custom made for me.”

“Bill me.”

I barely register the words before he takes the lace edge of my bra and rips the cup completely off. I stare in shock. “What are you doing?”

“I like the framework. Don’t like you hiding from me.” He repeats the process with the second one. Without the cups, my breasts are still lifted up by the underwire a bit, but completely exposed. He sets his teeth into the curve of my left breast. “Better.”

“Devan—” I have to swallow hard and try again. “Devan, this bra costs an absurd amount of money. I’ve never even worn it before.”

“Bill me,” he repeats.

While I’m still processing what just happened, he reaches between my thighs and palms my pussy. “I won’t lie, I like touching you like this. Like the thought of you in a short little skirt with these tease of panties on, just waiting for my hand to make you feel good.” He tugs the fabric to the side. “I like thinking about doing this while we’re out to brunch. No one has to know that I’ve got two fingers deep inside you while you’re eating those pancakes you like so much. No one has to know that you’re about to come all over my palm as you drink one of those fucking fruity brunch drinks.”

“Mimosas,” I gasp.

“Yeah. Mimosas.”

I weave on my feet and have to grab his shoulders. I like what he’s describing. I crave it. It’s really too damn bad it’s never going to happen. “I think you have a panty fetish.”

“Only for you.” He hooks his fingers around the center of them and tugs them down my thighs. “But I want unfettered access to your sweet pussy for the rest of the evening, so these have to go.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

“Good, because you don’t have a choice.” He finishes removing my panties and slides them into his pocket. “I’m keeping these.”

“Like I said—panty fetish.” Something strange and uncomfortable takes up residence in my throat. Something that feels a whole lot like jealousy. “I bet you have a whole drawer of them back at your place.”

Devan leans back and looks at me. I can’t read the expression on his face. “That street goes both ways. You’re just packing a spare set of designer lingerie around?” He shakes his head. “Seems like you were planning to leave this hotel room and jump right into bed with your next partner.”

I don’t know if we’re playing or not. I honestly can’t tell. This feels all too real in a way that I don’t know how to deal with. Is he jealous of the thought of me with other people? Or is he just playing into what he thinks is a fantasy? If I was braver, I’d ask.

I’m not brave. No matter what I project to the world, I’m a fucking coward at heart.

“And what if I am?” The words are out before I can think better of them or call them back. I’ve gone too far to change my mind now. I’m too stubborn to admit I don’t know if I want to go down this path. The other fantasies were close to the truth, yes, but those events already happened differently. Rewriting them is safe, in a way. The stakes are so much lower.

Playing out a fantasy set in the here and now?

That’s something else altogether.

Maybe we should just stick to the birthday plan. I have the body paint ready to go. It would be so much safer to put on the brakes and guide us back to those scenarios.

Devan runs his knuckles up and down my hips before I can decide if I want to suggest it. “What if you’re planning on leaving this hotel room and jumping into bed with someone else.”

It’s not quite a question, but I nod. “Yes. What then?”

He frowns, a tightness working its way into his jaw and shoulders. Those dark eyes search my face, and I have the uncomfortable feeling that he’s seeing right through me. Finally, he shakes his head slowly. “You’re taunting me.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

God, why did I say that?

Why can’t I keep from snapping at him like a creature with its leg caught in a trap? We only have so much time. Surely I can keep myself from ruining it? I have to.

“You’re taunting me,” he repeats. He takes my hips, the tiniest of pressures that brings me closer, inch by inch, until I’m straddling one of his big thighs. His slow smile has a cruel edge that makes things low in my stomach clench. “You want me to fly into a jealous rage, toss you on that bed, and fuck you while telling you that no other cock will make you feel like I do.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. It takes swallowing hard before I’m able to speak. “You’ve already said that earlier. That no other cock will compare.”

“Earlier was different and you know it.”

I do know it. I was just thinking the same thing, after all.

Devan smooths his hands over my hips. “That’s not the problem though, is it?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, just keeps digging around inside my chest with his words. “You don’t like the thought of me with other people. Quite hypocritical of you, birthday girl.”

“I don’t care what you do,” I lie. “Fuck your way through New York City if you feel like it. That’s your prerogative.”

“So proud.” He leans forward and trails light kisses along my lower stomach. “So fucking proud. You ever get tired of standing on that pedestal you created, Hazel? Of being unfuckingtouchable?”

“No.” Another lie.

“Liar.” This time, it sounds like a challenge. “You think I won’t drag you off the damn thing and down with the rest of us? Silly girl. It’s long past time for someone to put you in your place.”

I recognize that Devan is moving us back to safer territory, but part of me wants to dig in my heels out of spite. The thought of him with others stings, a slashing cut that I didn’t even feel at first, but now consumes me. “Pull me down from my pedestal, put me in my place, and then move on to the next princess to tarnish.”

Devan narrows his eyes. “You’re hung up on the thought of me with someone else. Something you want to say, Hazel? Stop choking on it and spit it out.” When I don’t immediately respond, he releases me and drapes his arms over the back of the chair. “What do you care if I grab a pretty partner or two and fuck away every memory of you after this? You have a use for me, but it’s temporary. You’ve been damned clear about that.”

“I—”

“You get this cock tonight.” He palms himself through his jeans. “You want to renegotiate, that’s a different conversation.”

Of course I want to renegotiate. One night was never going to be enough, two nights certainly isn’t. Devan and I have shown each other our sharp edges; have realized that, at least where fucking is concerned, those edges come together to create a puzzle that I could spend years exploring. We fit.

But that might be all in my head.

Poor little rich girl, throwing herself at the one person in her life who’s been entirely consistent, if distant. That distance is almost an asset. It sets me up to throw myself against him safely without actual consequences. Or it did, until last night. Until I crossed every line with him. Until he reached into my chest and touched me in places no one else has.

That’s the problem.

More sex won’t change anything. It will probably make this feeling worse. Renegotiating just means falling harder for Devan while we fuck over a prolonged period of time, and if two days is enough to mess me up like this, I don’t know if I’ll survive longer. It will hurt too much.

“I don’t want to renegotiate,” I manage.

I must be imagining the disappointment that flickers over his face. He shrugs. “Then my question stands—what do you care?”

“I don’t.”

Devan tenses and then seems to make himself relax. “Lie to yourself if you want to, Hazel, but don’t lie to me. You don’t like the thought of me fucking others.” He moves quickly, snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me down to straddle his lap. “Just like it makes me fucking feral to think about you with other people.”

I don’t mean to sink my hands into his hair. I sure as hell don’t mean to tug sharply on it. “Not too long ago, you were saying you don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t.” Devan’s not passive. His body is all coiled strength waiting to spring into motion, but he allows me to tilt his head back so I can meet his gaze. The possessive look there scalds me. He tightens his grip on my hips and jerks me closer, pinning our hips together. “Sharing means you’re mine, Hazel. It means that pussy belongs to me, and if you want a threesome or an orgy or whatever the fuck you can dream up, that’s something I’m giving to you. It doesn’t matter if it’s not my hands, cock, mouth that’s delivering it. It’s still at my will. You’re a smart girl. You understand the difference.”

I do.

I don’t have a clever answer to that, though, so I kiss him. It’s a fierce meeting of mouths, almost a battle. Devan kisses me like he knows I’m keeping things locked up tight and he’s sure he can steal the words right off my tongue.

Suddenly I’m all to happy to give him words. Not all of them. But ones I most certainly shouldn’t voice. I break the kiss and grab the hem of his shirt. He allows me to pull it over his head, but when I see his face again, it’s all challenge. “You have something to say, birthday girl?”

Even as I tell myself to play it cool, to not give him more than I already have, I grab his hand and guide him to press it to the apex of my thighs. “Have fun with your little friends, Devan. Do you claim their pussies and cocks the way you claim me?”

“No,” he grinds out. “You get special treatment.”

My heart trills even as it breaks a little bit more. “That’s because I’m special. We’re special.” I roll my hips, grinding myself against his palm. “You can fuck as many people as you want. It’s not going to change the fact that you’ll be thinking about my pussy until you’re old and gray.”

My words snap whatever leash has been holding him back. Devan digs his hand into my hair and bends me backward until I’m relying on his strength to keep me off the floor. “You think your pussy is that good? So good I’ll be comparing every other person to it for the rest of my fucking life?”

I can’t breathe, can’t think. Can only speak the truth. “Yes.”

He curses. “You’re goddamned right it is.” He kisses my breasts roughly, almost like he’s marking his territory. Maybe I shouldn’t be into that, but I most definitely am. I want him to touch me harder than he did with the spanking last night. To leave little marks on my body that I’ll be wearing for days. Something more permanent than we are.

More, more, more.

I need endlessly more.

He lifts me easily and carries me to the bed, dropping down on his back. I try to find my balance, but Devan doesn’t give me a chance. He lifts me up to straddle his face. And then his mouth is on my pussy and, fuck, I’m going to miss this so fucking much. The way his tongue plays over my most intimate flesh, how he knows exactly how to torment me with pleasure. How dirty it feels when he slides his tongue into me while he watches my face.

“Yes,” I moan. I rock my hips and he lets me rub myself on his lips and tongue, moving in time with me in a way designed to get me off hard and fast. I try to slow down, wanting this to last, but he grabs my hips, forcing me to keep pace. All too soon, my entire body clenches and I cry out as I come all over him.

He slides out from beneath me and I slump to the bed. I manage to turn my head to watch him take off his pants. This is all moving too quickly, a frenzy driven by the sheer lack of time we have left. Even so, I can’t help appreciating the sight of him. “You should be naked more often,” I murmur.

Devan hesitates. “You like what you see.”

“No shit I like what I see.” I push myself up so I can view his whole body. God, he’s just perfect. Soft and hard and so damn strong. I lick my lips. “I can’t decide what I want to take a bite out of first—your thighs or your chest.”

“Dirty girl,” he murmurs, but his lips curve a little. “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

I obey slowly, liking how closely he watches me. Devan finally crawls onto the bed behind me and runs his hands over my back and hips, down to grip my thighs. He spreads me even wider. “Better.”

It’s so much easier like this. He’s owning me, but without his dark gaze seeing too much, I’m able to say. “Mark me.”

He pauses. “Mark you.”

“Yes.”

Devan dips his thumbs down to part my pussy. He shifts and then the blunt head of his cock is there, pressing against me. “Elaborate.”

I drag in a breath, but he doesn’t push inside, doesn’t move except a slight flexing of his hands against the lower curve of my ass. I’ve already told him what I want; it isn’t so hard to give him the clarification he needs. “I want bruises from your fingertips. I want to keep a part of you.”

“Even bruises fade eventually, birthday girl. Nothing lasts forever. Not even this.”

Especiallynot this.