Chapter Three #2
They’ve taken shifts, rotating in and out of my room like sentinels. Bringing food I won’t touch. Touching me gently, like I’m some fragile thing that might shatter beneath their hands. Even Wyck hasn’t tried to fuck me, which is saying something.
If I can squeeze the truth out of anyone, it’s Karter. He’s always been the weak link when it comes to telling me no.
I smile beneath the blanket, wicked and amused. I may be heartbroken, haunted, but I’m still me.
And I need a win.
Reaching into my bra, I pull out my phone and fire off a text with practiced innocence:
Me: Come quick. It’s urgent.
The bubbles appear, but no message follows. The anticipation sends a delicious thrill down my spine.
Hook, line, and Devil.
Then, tires screech outside my window.
Karter.
I don’t even need to look. I feel him. The air shifts with his presence like it always does, heat and trouble and something unspoken riding in on the sound of his engine.
I toss off the blanket and shimmy out of my clothes, flinging them across the room. Sliding under the covers again, I lie in wait, naked, pulsing, wicked with want.
The window creaks open.
Moments later, he steps through, eyes scanning the room like a predator.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, jaw tight, voice sharp. “Where’s the fire?”
I smirk. “No fire.” Only heat.
He narrows his eyes, piecing it together. “Then what’s so urgent you couldn’t say it in a text?”
I don’t answer. I reveal. The covers slide off my body like silk, baring me completely to his gaze.
He stills. Then steps back, jaw tight, licking his lips as his eyes lock on my breasts. His restraint is hanging by a thread, and I’m here to cut it.
“Athens…” His voice drops. “What are you doing?”
I arch my back, unapologetically proud of every curve. “I’m tired of all of you tiptoeing around me like I’m broken.”
“You’re not fine.” His eyes darken. “Stop pretending you are.”
I slam my hand against the bed, not hard, but enough to make a point. “I wasn’t finished.”
That smirk of his flashes, but I see the tension behind it.
“I’ll be laughing by the end of this, Karter.” I rise from the bed, moving toward him.
The smirk vanishes. His whole body tightens.
“Athens, this little stunt isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“If you say the word punishment , I swear I’ll punch you in the throat. I’m done being handled like I’m made of glass. When will one of you just fuck me and stop acting like I’ll crack open and bleed out?”
I stalk past him, heading toward the closet, but his hand snatches mine mid-step.
The moment he touches me, a jolt passes between us, hot and undeniable.
He doesn’t let go.
“Some of us want to fuck you,” he growls, stepping closer, “while others are ready to gut the world just to bring your smile back.”
His voice, low, fierce, aching, cuts through me like nothing else.
I glance at him, vulnerable for the first time. “I don’t know how to talk about it yet. About any of it.” I swallow. “Just… make me forget for a while.”
His eyes burn. Conflict wars in them, but so does something else.
Hunger.
“I can make you forget,” he whispers. “But when we’re done, the silence ends. You’ll tell me everything.”
That’s not a question. That’s a demand. And I don’t want to fight it.
I nod slowly. “Fi-”
But I don’t finish the word. Because his mouth crushes into mine.
I melt into him instantly, his hands tangling in my hair as the kiss deepens, devours. This isn’t sweet. It’s possession. His lips claim me like I’m already his.
One arm slides under my thighs, lifting me with ease. My legs wrap around his waist, and I feel him, the length of him, hard and thick, pressing against my center.
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had pussy… your pussy,” he growls against my throat, “but I can’t wait any longer.”
My body answers before I do, arching into him, aching.
“Then don’t.”
He walks us back to the bed, eyes locked on mine like he’s already inside me in every way that matters. He drops down onto the mattress, dragging me with him, my knees bracketing his hips as I straddle him.
His voice is wrecked, rough with hunger. “I’m so fucking hard for you, Athens.” He groans, lifting his hips just enough to shove his pants down, his cock springing free, thick, flushed, leaking for me.
That sound in his throat, half growl, half gasp, sets fire to every nerve in my body.
I grin, breath hitching. “Then take whatever you want. It’s yours.”
He doesn’t need a second invitation. Gripping the base of his cock in one rough hand, he gives me a look that should come with a warning label.
“Lift up.” His tone is pure command. I rise without hesitation. “Now, lower yourself slow. Ride me like the fucking sea was made for you.”
A dark chuckle slips out of me as I brace on the headboard. “I don’t know how to swim…” I tease, “but for you? I’ll drown.”
I lower myself, slow and torturous, just letting the tip of him slip inside me. My mouth parts in a silent moan as my body stretches around him, welcoming the intrusion like it’s been starved for this. For him.
“Karter…” I pant, his name unraveling on my tongue like a prayer.
He’s already pulsing beneath me. “Fuck, baby… you feel like sin.” His hand grips my thigh, fingers digging in. “Take it. Take every inch like the filthy little brat I know you are.”
I sink lower, inch by inch, until he’s buried so deep inside me it’s like he’s under my skin.
“I know you’ve been holding this in,” he murmurs, voice tight with restraint. “All that rage, that need, let it out. Ride me like you mean it, Brat.”
The name lights me up. It always does.
I start to move, slowly at first, up, down, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want nice . I want to unravel, to tear something apart.
I rotate my hips, grinding side to side, chasing the angle that’ll crack me wide open. My hands roam his chest, tracing inked lines down the muscle, until I can’t help myself, my tongue takes over, licking down his neck, across his collarbone, tasting the salt on his skin.
He hisses through his teeth. “You’re such a goddamn tease.”
I grin against his throat. “Then stop talking and fuck me harder.”
His laugh is dark, sinful. We fall into rhythm, his hips rising, mine circling, chasing that dizzy high until every breath becomes a moan.
But it’s not enough.
I lift off him, shuddering at the loss, only to slam myself back down with a desperate cry.
“Jesus, fuck, Athens.” His voice cracks as I clench around him. “You trying to milk the soul outta me?”
“You can spare a little,” I pant, rolling my hips again, faster now, grinding until I’m on the edge of something brutal and beautiful.
“Suck my nipples, Karter.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. His mouth wraps around one chocolate peak, sucking hard before biting gently, dragging the sharpest pleasure from me. He switches to the other, licking, sucking, sending tremors through my spine.
“God, I love your mouth on me.”
“I love ruining you with it.” He mumbles against my skin, tongue flicking before he groans, “You taste like fucking heaven. ”
He shifts his angle, thrusting up just right, and he finds it.
“Oh” I’m gone. My vision sparks white at the edges.
“You like that?” His grin is pure sin.
“Yes, do it again, right there.” My voice is wrecked, raw with want.
He lifts his hips, and I roll mine, meeting him thrust for thrust until it’s too much.
“Karter!”
“Not yet.”
In one swift move, he grabs my waist and flips us, pinning me beneath him. I gasp, legs spreading for him without thought. His body presses into mine, sweat slicking his brow, that lazy Devil's grin plastered on his face.
“You look so pretty like this.” He whispers against my lips. “All wrecked and wide open for me.”
He thrusts in again, slow and deep, and I cry out his name like it’s the only word I’ve ever known.
Because right now, it is.
“What did you think you were doing just now?” His voice is rough velvet, dark, amused, edged in heat.
A nervous laugh bubbles out of me. “Fucking you?” I squirm, hips twitching beneath him.
That wicked smirk of his cuts through the dim light, and God help me, it makes my pussy clench.
“For a minute, yeah.” His tone dips lower, hungrier. “But now it’s my turn.”
He dips down, face buried in the crook of my neck, and sinks his teeth in, hard. The kind of bite that’ll leave a mark. My breath catches.
“Oh, God!”
He thrusts deeper, grunting, “You’re tighter like this. Fuck.” Each snap of his hips is a promise to ruin me.
“I wonder what Wyck would do,” he pants, “if he knew I was fucking you raw. Stretching you open, filling you up while he’s playing by the rules like a good little devil.” He laughs, dark and filthy, and I moan, shameless.
“Just… don’t come inside me.”
He stills. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because,” I hesitate, heat crawling up my neck. “I’m not on the pill.”
His lips crash against mine before I can take it back. “Guess we’re playing with fire, then.”
“Karter.”
“Shh,” he growls, pulling my legs over his shoulders. “Brats don’t get to make rules. Now shut up and take it.”
He fucks me like he means it, like he’s trying to brand his name into the deepest part of me. The kind of thrusts that make my teeth clatter and my soul scream. My breasts bounce with each brutal stroke, the slap of skin on skin echoing between our gasps.
“You gonna come for me, Brat?” he pants, sweat dripping from his jaw.
God, I love when he calls me that. It lights me up from the inside.
Heat burns up my spine and pools in my belly. I ride the high, clinging to his forearms as the orgasm rips through me. “Karter, fuck—”
“That’s it. Let go. Milk my cock like the filthy little devil you are.”
His hips stutter, then he’s cursing under his breath, “Fucking take it, take all of me.” He pumps hot inside, so deep I swear I can feel it in my throat.
“Karter,” I whisper, dazed. “My very own Devil of Cliffside.”