Page 5 of Devour

“I’m not your anything.” I stare up at him, fighting the tremble in my lips. He’s so much taller than me that even when I’m pinned to the wall, I have to crane my neck. “You don’t own me yet.”

“Yet.” His mouth tips at the corner to form a sexy lopsided grin. “Good girl. Glad to see you understand your situation.”

He releases my throat. His hands drop to my waist, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing and turns to set me on the edge of the desk. My ass hits the cold wood, and my legs are hanging off the edge. He’s standing between my knees looking down at me.

He reaches between my thighs, and my hips shift forward before I can stop them. But he doesn’t touch my pussy, and I have to force myself not to beg him.

I’m such a fucking slut.

He keeps moving higher and hooks the band of my thong with his finger and drags it down my legs, over my knees, off my ankles. He holds up the black lace and smirks as he runs his fingers along the soaked triangle.

“Open your mouth.”

God, he’s such a cocky fucker. I just stare at him.

“Priest is out there, and I won’t let him fucking hear you come, Saylor. Those sounds are mine. Every bit of pleasure you feel. All mine.” He holds the panties closer to my lips. “Don’t make me fucking tell you again.”

I open my mouth, and he pushes my thong inside. I can taste myself on the fabric. Fuck, it only turns me on even more. I’m soaked. It doesn’t even matter how fucked up this entire situation is with a dead guy on the fucking floor. Axl’s hand covers my mouth, holding my underwear inside.

“I wish I had some tape.” He brushes his lips along my cheek, and I breathe through my nose faster. “Pull your skirt up.”

I don’t move. I stare at him over his hand, and I don’t do a goddamn thing. I want him to fuck me even though I know he can’t, but I’m still going to push him as far as I can. My pussy clenches thinking about how torturous it must be for him. What woman doesn’t want to be wanted this way?

“Pull your fucking skirt up, little heathen.” He slides his hand into the front of my shirt and pinches my nipple, making me arch my back and push my chest into him. His voice drops so low, I feel it more than I hear it. “Show me my pussy.”

He’s never touched me. He’s a fucking psycho. And I’m about to do what he says anyway. I don’t know what that makes me, but I wouldn’t give him power over me if I didn’t want him to have it.

I grab my skirt and pull it up to my waist before my good sense says otherwise.

His eyes drop between my legs, and his jaw tightens. I’m bare and wet, and I can feel the slick on my inner thighs. He’s looking at me like he’s memorizing every bit of what I’m showing him. I’ve spent more time than I care to admit thinking about what his naked, muscular body looks like when he’s jacking off while thinking about fucking me. It’s what a man like Axl does.

He thinks he owns me. That’s the problem with men in our world. They decide something belongs to them, and then they act like the deal is done. And the fucking Ravens help them do it.

“Fuck.” He exhales hard through his nose. “Look at that. You’re dripping all over the desk, and I haven’t even touched you. I should make you lick it up after you’re done.” His eyes come back up to mine. “It better not be for that asshole over there.”

I don’t react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of shaking my head like an idiot. I’ve never been this wet in my life. And it’s most certainly because of Axl Kade Hollister. But fuck him, he doesn’t need to know that.

Axl pinches my nipple again, then chuckles. Tears stream down my cheeks as I fight to keep myself from pushing my pussy against his covered dick and dry humping him like a horny slut.

“I know it’s not.” He licks the tears from my cheek. “You like that I kill for you, don’t you? My girl got off on watching me snap his fucking neck.”

I can’t answer with the lace in my mouth. But I still refuse to nod, even if it’s true. My clit throbs so hard my hips twitch, and he sees it.

“Yeah.” He nods slowly, eyes back between my legs. “That’s what I thought. You’re fucking soaked, Saylor. I can see how wet you are for me.” He licks his lips, then spits on my pussy, his saliva running down my clit. “Touch it. Touch my pussy. I want to watch you fuck yourself.”

I trace my shaky hand over my thigh, continuing until I’m almost touching myself. He’s focused between my legs, and I watch his gorgeous eyes go dark as I get closer.

My body jerks when I press my fingers to my clit. I’m swollen and slick with his spit. I’m so sensitive that the first circle of my fingertips makes me moan around the underwear in my mouth. I press harder. I slide two fingers down through the wet and push inside myself. I’m so turned on that I don’t give a shit that I should be embarrassed about how fast I’m about to come for him.

“That’s it.” He’s watching my hand like he can’t look anywhere else. And I can’t stop watching him and how hard he’s breathing from restraining himself. “Look at what a desperate slut you are. You’ve been needing this, haven’t you? Walking around campus with this tight little cunt aching for dick.” He grips my chin and tilts my head back, those pretty blue eyes staring into mine. “You’re done fucking dipshits like that asshole over there, baby. No one touches you again. You’re going to wait for all the things I’m going to fucking do to you.”

I curl my fingers and arch my back. He puts one arm around me to hold me close to him. I’ve never been this close to him before, and his cologne draws me in, making me press my face into his neck. He lets me, still covering my mouth. I have to grab the edge of the desk with my free hand to keep from grabbing his dick.

“In three weeks, they’re going to send you out into those woods.” His lips are close to my ear now. One hand is still pressed over my mouth and the other holding me to him. I can feel his breath on my neck, and I want him to kiss or lick or bite or do anything there. “And I’m going to kill any Talon who stands in my way of getting to you.” I whimper around my panties, unable to stop myself. “There isn’t a single scenario where I don’t walk out of the woods with you over my shoulder, little heathen.”

He chuckles in my ear at what a needy little whore I’m being. But I just move my fingers faster. I’m practically panting for him, breathing erratically through my nose, and I don’t care. When I look down, I can see his cock straining hard against his jeans, and he can’t do a fucking thing about it. So who’s the real winner here? He has to stand there and watch me do what he wants to do himself because his precious Talon rules won’t let him. Sucks to be him.

“Add another finger.” It’s not a suggestion.