Page 4 of Devour

Saylor doesn’t move. She just glares back at me. I let my eyes rake over her body from her lean tanned legs, to her rounded hips, to her perfect tits, and then to her full lips that are begging me to kiss them before they stretch around my cock. I’m so fucking hard for her.

“That’s the sixth one,” she says. Her voice is annoyed. Not a hint of fear there. She knows what I am, and she knows how shit is done in our world. My body count is much higher than just the list of men I’ve killed for her. “Why do you have some sort of problem with me having an orgasm?”

“Because you’re fucking mine.” I hold her stare. “And you’ll learn that your orgasms only come from me, and only when you ask my fucking permission.”

Her eyes go dark, and she licks her painted lips. The action makes my cock throb so hard I have to fight the urge to readjust my dick.

She starts laughing. “Last I checked, you couldn’t actually fuck. And that doesn’t mean I should have to go without. Do you even remember how?” She pretends to check her fingernails. “You could have at least let me get off before you killed him.”

Fuck, I know she’s pushing me on purpose. Another second in this room with her is going to be pure torture. If I give myself a tiny taste of her, it’ll never be enough. But fuck it. If my dick hurts for three weeks, I’ve suffered far worse.

Priest snorts behind me. I turn around, catching his attention. “Get the fuck out, Priest.”

Priest looks from me to Saylor, then at Dylan’s body on the floor, then back at me, and he shakes his head, grinning. He knows I’m about to play with her. I shouldn’t. It’s just going to open a door I can’t close. But my little heathen needs to know who she’s fucking dealing with.

He unlocks the door and swings it open. “Don’t take too fucking long. We still have to haul that dipshit out of here.”

The door closes behind him.

It’s just me and Saylor and a dead man on the floor. If my girl wants to get off, she’s going to fucking earn it. And then she’ll understand that she fucking belongs to me.

CHAPTER 3

SAYLOR

Axl locks the door behind Priest, trapping me in here with him. Dylan’s dead body is cooling on the floor three feet from where I stand.

I should be scared. I should be screaming or crying or running for the fucking door. Any normal girl would be doing at least one of those things right now. But I stopped being a normal girl a long time ago. The man standing in front of me just snapped someone’s neck with his bare hands, and I’m fucking feral. I’m so wet my thighs are slick.

Something is wrong with me. I know that. Everyone in our world is at least a little fucked up. But I don’t know if I’m wet because he just killed a man with his bare hands, or because he did it for me. And I don’t know which answer is worse.

Axl hasn’t moved. He’s watching me as if he’s fucking starving and I’m the meal he’s being offered. It’s how he always looks at me. He’s practically a stranger to me, which I guess makes me a slut. If that doesn’t, then the quickie with my TA in my professor’s office probably does. But I don’t give a shit.

I just want to know what Axl’s fucking deal is. The Talons think they’re untouchable with all the bullshit they do for the Ravens. And he’s no different with his infuriating blue eyes watching my every move.

I know he kills for me. I know he’s always there. I know what his jaw looks like when he’s about to lose control. But I don’t know why. In my world, when a man wants you this badly, it’s never actually about you.

Axl’s well over six feet of tattooed muscle with dark hair that’s longer on top and shaved close on the sides. His jaw is sharp, and his eyes are this gorgeous light blue. They’re too easy to get lost in when I’m stupid enough to look directly at them. Ink covers both arms from his fingers to where it disappears under his black t-shirt, and more of it climbs the side of his neck. He’s got this sexy little hoop through his right nostril. It makes me wonder what other piercings he’s hiding. I’ve heard the Talons are required to get their dicks pierced.

He’s built for danger and violence, exactly how our society expects him to be.

In three weeks, I’m going to belong to a Talon. I get to be his personal sex toy for a year before my dad marries me off to some other rich Raven. I was born into this world, so I grew up with an understanding of what my life would be, and a mother who wasn’t shy about reminding me what my purpose is.

At least in our world, I know how to channel what power I do have into what I want. Power, sex, and money. Those are the fucking pillars that our world thrives on.

And I like to fuck. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex, not that I would know when for the last few years, Axl has followed me around like a psycho, giving me no more than a few words at a time.

I had another one of my nightmares last night and wanted a distraction. I wanted a fucking orgasm that I didn’t have to give myself. Is that too goddamn much to ask?

He’s still watching me, waiting to see if I move away or cower. I don’t. I know he won’t hurt me.

“You want to come, little heathen? Sit on the fucking desk.” His voice is low and not much different from the one he used when he made a grown man lick piss off his boot. It shouldn’t make me press my thighs together, but it does. His dominance does this to me. It did when he killed Dylan, and it still does now that he’s standing here looking like he’s ready to devour me.

“Make me, Axl.” Pretty fucking please.

His jaw flexes. He crosses the distance between us in one step, wraps his hand around my throat, and pins me against the wall. “When I tell you to do something, I’m not playing little brat games. My heathen does what she’s fucking told. The first goddamn time.”

His grip on my throat tightens, holding me there. His thumb presses against the side of my neck where my pulse is hammering. I know he can feel how fast my heart races, and I hate that he knows how much this affects me. If he touched my pussy right now, he’d know that I’m wet for him.