7. Devyn
Chapter seven
Devyn
The red winking heart pin on Remy Lombardi’s blazer taunts me as I brush past him. It takes everything inside of me not to bash this man’s teeth in. As soon as I walked away from Zaiah, I pulled my earbud out of my multi-slate and slid it in place.
A small smile played on my lips, imagining Zaiah discovering the tracking program I had designed to monitor his conversations. My sweet fire was going to be pissed, and the outcome would be delicious.
But when that piece of shit, Remy, filtered through my earpiece, it took everything within me not to rip his throat out when I returned, especially when I saw the crowd gathered around them. This is another reason why I fucking hate spectacles like Praeda. Everything is a huge announcement. A show for everyone’s entertainment.
I don’t know how much clearer I can get about Zaiah being my Praeda than fingering him on the fucking dance floor, but apparently, everyone needs the words to be said out loud.
Dipping the glass of Blue Sugar in front of Zaiah’s face, I hand him his drink. “Hello, Praeda.”
A few people around me gasp as Zaiah takes the glass. I give them all a wicked smile, encouraging them to go tell all their friends. Devyn Shio has chosen his Praeda this year, and it isn’t fucking Remy Lombardi.
Lana stands just behind Zaiah with a wide grin. My gaze lingers on Zaiah’s face before returning to Remy. “Do you have a problem with my Praeda?”
Remy, beet red with fury, glares at Zaiah, his narrowed eyes seeming to envision the evil things he wants to do to my precious doll. Icy rage slides down my spine, and I place a possessive hand on Zaiah’s back.
Light. His back. The angry scars my fingers had traced earlier. If I find out that Remy did that to him, I’m going to kill the fucker, or hell, I’ll have Balthazar have his wicked way with him. If my fellow Black Hart gets hold of him, then at least I can guarantee Remy will suffer before he dies.
Remy finally turns toward me. “No problem at all,” he says, tone clipped. As soon as Remy leaves, I face Zaiah.
“Aren’t you going to take a sip of your drink I got you?”
Zaiah places the glass against his lips and tips the glass back. Before the cool liquid reaches his mouth, he narrows his eyes. I give him a wolfish grin. My sweet fire is smart, I’ll give him that. I pluck the glass from his fingers and make a show of twisting the cup around until his lip prints are facing me. Lining them up, I place my lips on the smudge he left on the glass, pretending it’s him I’m tasting. I tip my head back and take a healthy swallow.
“Not drugged,” I say and hand him back his glass.
He takes a hesitant sip before his eyes widen with shock. “Blue Sugar?”
I nod. “Your favorite.”
“Fuck,” he says with awe.
Zaiah might be starting to grasp the extent of my obsession.
Just then, my multi-slate dings with an incoming message. I pull up my Black Hart group chat and smirk.
Ares: Everything’s ready for you.
Ryker: Have fun, you kinky fucker.
***
I drag Zaiah off the dance floor and to the closest restroom. One person is at the urinal and the other is washing his hands. Both men jump when I thrust myself through the door, slamming it against the wall. “Everyone, out!”
Not even ten seconds later, Zaiah and I are alone in the room, and I’m shoving him against the wall with a violent force of need. My hand shoves its way down the back of his pants. I thrust a finger into his hole and he arches his back.
He scrambles to unbutton his pants, and I waste no time spreading his cheeks wider and thrusting a second finger in his tight hole.
He hisses in pain and slams his fist into my jaw. “You fucker. That hurt.” Then he’s kissing me hard while I finger fuck him. Zaiah sucks my lower lip between his and bites hard enough to break the skin.
Blood rushes in my head and my heart races. Adrenaline rushes through me. This. This is what I crave. The wild, out-of-control passion between Zaiah and me.
Pulling away from his tempting bites, I slow my breathing, not wanting to get distracted. “I have a proposition for you,” I say.
He narrows his eyes. “A proposition?”
I have to tread carefully here. “You mentioned you were a fan of Demon’s videos.”
He arches a brow.
“We’re going to film a video together. And then I’m going to pay you.”
Zaiah’s eyes flare with anger. A part of me wants to reassure him but fuck if I’m not addicted to his passion.
“I’m not a whore you can just pay off and—”
“You misunderstand me, Doll. You will be in a video with me tonight. I don’t give a shit whether you want to. Tonight is Praeda. You are my prey and this is my demand.”
His face is flushed. I pause and I let the words sink in. “That being said, a live video will get us a lot of money. My fans have been begging for me to replace that silicone doll with the real thing. You will get at least half of that money.”
I know he’s desperate for the funds and as much as I want him to stay here on Usurn, the information he has on my father and Marco Lombardi could potentially get him killed. I need to know what he knows. And as much as I want to take things slow and earn his trust, my mother and sister’s safety is also at stake. I have all intentions of going with Zaiah and my family, but just in case, I need a backup plan. I’ll just have to get one of my other Black Harts to agree to talk to him. This way, he can get money from the video and money for his information. I need him safe, and setting him up with enough money to not only get off-planet but to start a life is ideal.
I can tell he’s about to argue, so I spit out the ungodly amount of money. It will be enough money to not only get him off-planet, but to get him to one of the planets past Vitality.
Zaiah snaps his mouth shut. He knows this is a good opportunity to start fresh.
“What’s the catch?” he asks.
I smirk. “No catch. We’ll record our live video for all my fans to see. I’ll have my wicked way with you, you’ll get paid, and then you can do whatever you want with the money.”
He swallows hard. “And what exactly will you do to me in the video?”
I laugh. “Whatever the fuck I want, Doll.”
Zaiah’s eyes darken with lust. I pull out the velvet box I’ve had hidden in my pocket. “Happy Cor Night,” I say and toss him the box. “Put this on. We have to walk across campus, and by the time we get there, I want you to be stretched and ready for my cock. By the time the morning sun rises, I’ll own you, Praeda.”