Page 31 of Devil’s Reign

A new chandelier hangs at the center of the ceiling, casting warm golden light over the room. Right beneath it sits a round black coffee table. It’s surrounded by a large brown sofa and several matching armchairs. Three of the four walls are lined with tall shelves brimming with books. The fourth wall features a cozy reading nook. The space centers around a small mattress piled high with dozens of pillows and a thick comforter. Next to the nook stands a lamp shaped like a willow tree, and behind it, blackout blinds hide the city completely—adjustable, depending on how much light she wants to let in.

I move to a small shelf and reach between a globe and a rolling wheel to pick up the black remote that controls the blinds. With a click, they rise silently, revealing the city spread out beneath.

I’m rewarded by laughter—a bright, unguarded sound that makes my chest tighten. She turns to face me with a smile that punches the breath straight out of my lungs.

“Can I try it?”

In that moment, I understand, with something close to dread, that I would do anything—anything—to keep that smile on her face.

She doesn’t wait for my response. Just jogs towards me with a lighthearted giggle and plucks the remote from my hand, clicking through the settings with childlike fascination. After a while, she gets bored and lowers the blinds again, plunging the room into the warm glow of the chandelier. When she steps back to return the remote, I close my hand around her wrist instead, trapping her.

She tilts her face up to meet mine, and the smile on her face fades a little as awareness floods her expression. Her eyes dip briefly to my lips before darting away, like she’s been caught thinking something she shouldn’t.

I lean down instinctively, and she reacts just as fast, tugging her hand free before retreating towards the bookshelves. I follow without hesitation, craving the closeness. I’ve never needed a woman more.

As she trails her fingers along the spines of the books, I cover her back with my body, and she inhales sharply. Lowering my head to the curve of her neck, I draw in her scent like an addict. Clean soap, expensive lotion, and underneath it all—her.

“W–why did you suddenly build a library?” Her voice comes out thready, proving she’s just as affected by my proximity as I am by hers.

I plant one palm on the shelf and slide the other around her waist, pressing flat over the slight swell of her belly until she’s leaning back into me, my hard cock fitting flush against her ass.

“You said you were bored,” I say into her ear. “You wanted books.”

I flick my tongue down her neck, and she gasps. And then she’s turning in my arms. I let her, caging her between my body and the bookshelf.

When her eyes meet mine, the force of a hurricane crashes through my chest. “You had it built… for me?” Disbelief colors every word.

A frown tugs at my brow as I roam her delightfully expressive face.

“You don’t need to believe me, but I have no reason to lie.” Not when I have you right where I want. Trapped with me. I move my hand up her ribcage and palm her tit, squeezing the soft flesh. She moans, and the sound shoots straight to my cock, making it throb almost painfully.

Her head rolls back to press against the shelf. A few books fall to the floor on the other side, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “What—what was here before?”

We’re still talking?

“An entertainment room,” I answer impatiently, then swoop down, too hungry to wait another second.

I slam my mouth onto hers, my tongue shoving past her lips to fuck her mouth like I own it. Like she’s mine. She melts into me instantly, her body yielding in a way that makes my blood sing. My thumb finds her nipple through the silk of her shirt, and I rub until she’s stiff and peaked. She jerks against me, and I grind harder into her belly. I know she can feel me—thick, aching, straining against my pants—and I don’t give a damn. I want her to feel it, want her to know how badly I need to be inside her.

She gasps into the kiss, and I swallow the sound greedily, wanting to hear it again and again until it’s branded into my memory.

My fist tangles in her hair, and I yank her head back to deepen the kiss, taking everything she’s willing to give. Her body molds to mine like it was made for me, and all I can think about is how easy it would be to shove down her pants, push her panties aside, and bury myself inside of her. I didn’t take her last night. I should’ve. The regret snakes in my gut. My balls are so tight, and my cock throbs with the kind of neglect that feels deliberate. Like punishment for holding back. I grind into her anyway, rough, desperate, chasing the relief I know I won’t grant myself. I want to press her flat against the shelves and fuck her until she’s screaming my name, until everyone in the whole damn hotel knows she’s mine.

Another crash of falling books snaps me back to reality. I rip my mouth from hers with a growl, jerking back just enough to draw a sharp breath. Every nerve ending is on fire, my jaw tight enough to crack, my cock hard enough to split me open, and I’m one second from forgetting every reason I brought her here in the first place.

“Fuck.” The word scrapes out of me. I rake both hands through my hair and force myself to put some distance between us. I didn’t bring her here so I could fuck her senseless against some bookshelves, damn it. But when she looks up at me with those kiss-swollen lips and that heaving chest, I can’t think straight. She makes me reckless. Makes control feel like a joke. It’s been days. Just days. And already she’s everywhere—in my head, in my body, in every goddamn breath I take. She’s trouble.

But I want her anyway. I need her anyway. Just fuck her. Hard enough to purge her from your system. But I know it’s more complicated than that. One time with her wouldn’t be enough.

I’d want more and more and more until I was in so deep there’d be no coming back.

She pushes off the shelf with a shaky exhale. “…Well, I guess we know the books can’t handle too much pressure…” She looks around the brand-new library. “…Or they go crashing to the floor.” I shoot her a sharp look, but she’s sporting a small smile.

She’s joking.

My head is still trying to wrap around the overwhelming need to fuck her, and she’s cracking jokes?

She flutters a hand nervously, and I realize she’s just trying to lighten the mood. It only pisses me off more. I scowl at her, my unfulfilled need morphing into anger. She did this to me. I’m never this hard up for women. I fuck them when I want and come when I feel like it. I’m not some out-of-control loser who can’t manage his own goddamn dick. But with her…