The girls are not blood related, just best friends who have synced up and become so close, they act like actual twins.
I arch a brow. “I don’t owe you little devils a single thing—” Scarlet pouts and Raven rolls her eyes, smirking. “But you’re still my favourite pair of sins.”
They squeal in unison, slap my arms, then tug my mask up, planting twin kisses—one on each cheek, one dead on my lips—leaving crimson prints like battle scars. With a swirl of jasmine and giggles, they vanish into the crowd.
De-Vil’s smoky laugh curls over my shoulder. “Coming, darling?”
I glance back, grin sharp. “Not yet. But I will be.”
She plants a hand on her hip, thrusts those glorious breasts forward in challenge, then pivots and sways up the stairs, hips rolling like a promise.
I bite back a growl, thighs clenching. That woman could unmake me with just a look.
At the little bar tucked beside the staircase, a tiny storm in human form leans over the counter. Sparrow is barely five-foot, all huge hazel eyes and deceptively sweet smiles; she looks like a lost bird until you learn she begs to be broken, used, and will thank you for it after. She’s a bartender by trade, demon by choice, and a perk for regulars like me. She winks, slides my greataxe and blades beneath the counter, and sets a tumbler of smoky whiskey into my waiting hand.
I saunter up the stairs, the glass cool in my palm, the ice shifting with each step like a teasing whisper. When I reach De’s door, I nudge it open with my boot, scanning her room.
A few candles are lit here and there around the huge bed that’s central and against the back wall. Tables, cabinets, and a cute vanity take up the rest of the space.
The latch snicks shut behind me, and suddenly her full, heavy breasts mould against my back, one arm wrapping tight around my waist to pin me close. The other hand presses a chilled blade to my throat, its edge a deadly caress that ignites a fierce, soaking blaze between my thighs. This woman knows every filthy secret I harbour, every kink that makes me drip, and if she’s faking her own hunger for it, she’s a goddess of deception.
“You kept me waiting,” she breathes, her lips brushing the shell of my ear, hot and moist.
“I’m in high demand, my wicked De. I had to battle through a horde of temptresses just to claim the prize.”
With the knife still kissing my skin, I dip my fingers into the glass, plucking out a glistening ice cube. I reach back, mapping her body by touch, and press the frozen shard to the nape of her neck. She shudders against me, rewarding me with a deep, throaty moan that vibrates straight to my core. The blade digs in harder, a sharp sting blooming as warm blood trickles down my neck, pooling at my collarbone. I crave to lap it from her skin later, to taste the iron of my blood mingled with her sweat.
De purrs low, her voice a velvet rumble. “Every treasure demands its trials.”
She pulls away abruptly, her heat vanishing and the blade leaving my throat exposed and throbbing. In a blur, she’s before me, the knife now flat against my belly, its tip circling my navel with exquisite menace. My glass disappears from my grip, set aside on the dresser. Her blue eyes blaze into mine, twin sapphires alive with dominance, and my knees weaken, a shiver racing up my spine that leaves me weak at the knees. She leans in close, her breath mingling with mine, lips hovering so near I can almost taste her. “How will you seize this one, my bold challenger?”
I flash a wicked smirk, twist her wrist with just enough force to claim the dagger, and slice through her crimson dress in one swift motion. The fabric parts like silk under water, cascading to her ankles in a whisper. She gasps as her naked body is revealed—curves lush and inviting, skin flushed with anticipation. I hoist her up effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist, thighs clenching hot and firm, and her slick heat presses against my abdomen. I pivot and toss her onto the bed, where she lands sprawled, legs parted wide, her glistening folds an open invitation, a banquet begging to be ravaged.
I retrieve my whiskey, taking a slow sip while her eyes devour me. “You always present yourself like some sort of forbidden feast, delivered from distant, sinful shores.” I fish out another ice cube, clamping it between my teeth, and crawl over her body, straddling her hips. I kiss her deeply, the ice melting between our tongues, cold rivulets trickling down our chins as our mouths clash in hunger.
De snatches my hat, flinging it across the room, then claws at my shirt, desperate to strip me bare. I resist, pinning her hands above her head with one firm grip, denying her the control she craves.
She writhes beneath me, turning feral, her moans growing wilder. I break the kiss and trail the dwindling cube down herjaw, along the elegant column of her throat, then lower to her heaving breasts. The ice circles each nipple, drawing them into tight, aching peaks, water beading on her skin like dew. She arches her back, gasping at the chill, her body undulating in slow, needy waves that promise to turn savage. I discard the cube in her navel, watching it start to pool there, then descend on her chest with my mouth—warm lips enveloping her, tongue flicking mercilessly, teeth grazing just hard enough to sting.
Her fingers weave into my hair, yanking me closer, her back bowing to force more of her soft flesh into my eager mouth. I oblige, sucking deeply and biting with controlled ferocity, alternating between tender licks and sharp nips that make her cry out. Her hips jerk against my chest, grinding with insistent rhythm, the heady musk of her arousal enveloping me, stoking the inferno raging in my veins. The pent-up arousal from the day’s kill surges through me like a storm, a primal urge to tear her apart, to consume her utterly, to drench the sheets in our mingled essence.
I wrench away suddenly, chest heaving, senses prickling.
There are eyes on my back.
De props up on her elbows, her gaze wide and questioning. My heart thunders, the beast inside snarling, but there’s a presence, watching, lurking.
“Evie?” Her voice cracks with concern.
I glance at the door, the mirror, the shadows—all empty. Yet, the feeling lingers, like a ghost’s breath, taunting me. It’sHim.
Is he watching me? Does he like a show? I like to be watched if I’m honest; lord knows I can teach others a thing or two when it comes to women.
I shake it off, forcing a grin. “Nothing, love. Just a shadow from the streets.”
She laughs, a rich, melodic sound that eases the tension, her body relaxing back onto the pillows. I close my eyes, savouring itand inhaling the scent of her skin, her desire. When I open them, my smile turns predatory as I slide down her body, parting her thighs wider with my shoulders. I keep it in the back of my mind thatHeis watching me. The spot between my thighs drips at the thought that he is enjoying this.
I snatch the remnants of the ice from her navel, clamping the sliver between my teeth to preserve its chill. I hover over her dripping core, then drag the cube across her swollen clit in slow, torturous circles. She twitches wildly, a sharp moan escaping as her fingers clench the sheets. I seal my lips around her, letting out a wild moan to satisfy Him; the ice melting against her heat while my tongue plunges deep, thrusting hard and relentless, just how she demands it. I hope he is enjoying this. Lord knows I am. I picture him, whoever he is, getting off to this. The thought makes me devour De harder. My arms hook under her thighs, hauling her tighter to my face as I devour her—sucking and licking, nipping with abandon, and moaning into her folds as her taste floods my senses. I imagineHimin the shadows, watching in awe. We are the performers and he is the captive audience. I like this. I have no doubt that De is enjoying this as much as he is.
