Chapter Eight
Athens
The bass is already rattling the pavement before we even step inside. Bodies linger around the entrance, sweaty and swaying, the air laced with cigarettes, spilt vodka, and the kind of rumors that die in daylight.
It’s the kind of chaos I need. The kind that numbs everything else.
The moment we pass through the doors, it hits… Smoke, heat, musk, and lust, all packed inside a cage of strobe lights and pounding beats. Sandalwood clings to the air, tangled with lilac and sweat, every breath I take laced with sin.
And I’m still high on the taste of Wyck. Still aching from the way his hands buried into my hair, the feral look he gave Karter right after. I shouldn't be the reason those two ever go to war.
But maybe I already am.
“This place is insane,” Fred shouts over the music, pulling me from my thoughts. “God, I forgot what it felt like to have air on my skin and not feel like a captive.”
I glance at her, catching the twitch in her fingers, the shift of her weight from foot to foot. She’s hiding something. I’ve seen that twitch in the mirror before.
“You a prisoner in that house?”
Her eyes widen for a second too long. “No. I mean… not a prisoner. Just… locked in my room. Unless they need me for something.”
I raise a brow. “Define something .”
Her mouth opens, closes. She chews her bottom lip, then grabs my hand. “Let’s get a drink.”
Avoidance. Noted.
She drags me to the bar and we slip onto stools, our knees nearly touching. I swivel toward her, not letting it go.
“C’mon, Fred. What kind of things ?”
“Let me get something strong enough to shut me up first.” She waves the bartender over. “Two margaritas. Top shelf. Heavy on the tequila.”
The bartender nods and gets to work.
She leans in. “Don’t get mad, okay? But I know you know about the whole… pool stunt Wyck pulled.”
I nod slowly, letting her dig her own grave.
“Well… before that, when I first showed up... Wyck and I... we-” She hesitates. Her voice goes soft. “We slept together. Just that night. It didn’t mean shit. It wasn’t even that good.”
I blink.
She said Wyck wasn’t good in bed ?
That’s rich.
“Fred…” I say, my lips twitching. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I mean, look at me. I’ve been screwing his father for how long now? And now his son’s got his claws in me, too.”
She laughs nervously. “I mean, yeah. We’re basically in the same boat, except mine was a one-night mistake. Just… repeated a few times in the same night.”
“You little slut.” I say it flatly, watching her expression collapse in horror before I burst out laughing.
Her frown deepens until she realizes I’m teasing. “Okay, okay, I deserved that.”
“Deal,” I say, holding my hand out. “Just don’t fuck him again.”
She grabs my hand and shakes. “Deal.”
The bartender slides our drinks across the bar. “Ladies.”
Fred grabs hers like it’s a lifeline. “You know how long it’s been since I had one of these?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Too fucking long. Bottoms up.” She throws half of it back like it’s water and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
I raise a brow. “Damn, you drink like you’re auditioning for a relapse.”
“What?”
I sip my own drink. “Nothing.” Lie. I’m still thinking about the way she sucked that margarita down.
So I ask without thinking. “How’s your head game?”
She chokes, coughing on her drink. “What?!”
“She means do you suck dick well,” someone cuts in.
Ryan. One of my students. Long legs, red lipstick, and zero filter. She pulls up a seat beside us, unapologetic.
Fred grumbles, “That’s none of your business.”
Ryan smirks. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”
She turns to me. “What about you, professor? Got skills?”
I should shut this down. I should remind her that I’m faculty, and this is a dangerous line we’re toeing.
But I don’t.
“Define skills. I know what not to do. But am I a pro? Doubt it.”
Ryan leans closer. “So what, you want confirmation? Want to know if you’re pleasing your man?”
I nod, just once. “That’d be nice.”
“I could help you with th-”
“She can’t.”
That voice.
My blood ignites like kerosene on a match.
Karter.
He slides behind me, his hand slipping around my waist like it belongs there. Because in some twisted way, it does.
I lean into his touch. “Why’d you cut her off?”
“Because I don’t need her teaching you something you already know how to do.”
His voice is low. Possessive. My body reacts instantly.
“Karter…” I squirm, trying to wiggle away.
He grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him, eyes locked.
“Want me to prove it? Want me to drag you to the men’s room right now, fuck your throat in front of them, and let you see for yourself just how good you are?”
I should be appalled.
But I’m not.
Because the way my thighs clench in response? Yeah. That says everything.
Why the fuck is my pussy already aching?
I should say no .
But instead, “Yes.”
What the fuck did I just say?
Before I can even question it, Karter’s fingers close around my wrist and yank me to my feet. My barstool screeches back, girls scattering like shadows in his wake.
“Oh shit,” Ryan cackles behind us. “By the look in his eyes, sis, your mouth is about to take a savage fucking.” She pauses. “Fuck. I shouldn’t watch.”
Then I call her bluff, “Chicken.”
She shoves past with a hiss. “Momma didn’t raise no punk. Move.”
I laugh, loud and wild, the sound bouncing off the club walls as we make our way to the bathroom.
Karter kicks open the door like he owns it, which he basically does, and gestures for me to step inside.
“Wait, what if someone comes in?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
Do I care?
No. Not really. The thought actually turns me on.
He leans in, kisses my forehead like some fucked-up prince. “Be right back.”
The door swings shut behind him, and Ryan leans against the wall like she’s watching a pre-show.
“You’re really about to do this? In here?” Her voice is breathless, intrigued, like she’s waiting for permission to live vicariously through me.
“Yes,” I breathe. “For a few reasons. One, I want to know how to make it better. Two… being watched turns me the fuck on.”
“ Hello , voyeurism kink!” she practically screams, hand lifted for a high five.
I slap it. Hard.
Footsteps echo. Karter’s back, face wicked. “No one will interrupt us.”
Of course they won’t. Not when he’s on the warpath.
He doesn’t waste time. Doesn’t even speak. Just grabs my face in those big tattooed hands and devours my mouth. When he pulls back, he whispers against my lips, “Assume the position, Ms. Walker.”
He strips off his shirt and throws it on the floor like a goddamn offering. I drop to my knees without hesitation, not even blinking.
“Open that filthy little mouth,” he commands, already unbuttoning his pants.
Ryan gags. “Dude, I do not wanna see your dick.”
Without looking away from me, Karter snaps, “Then get the fuck out.”
She doesn't move.
Smart girl.
He grins down at me like the devil I know he is. “Don’t be shy, Brat. Show them what a throat trained by Devils can do.”
God help me, I love it when he talks like that. It flips a switch in me that I can’t turn off.
I reach for him, wrapping my fingers around his cock, thick and already hard. My mouth waters. I lick the tip slowly, teasing it, letting my spit dribble down his length like a promise.
He hisses through his teeth. That’s my green light.
I take him in. All the way. I flatten my tongue, hollow my cheeks, and swallow him whole until the tip punches the back of my throat.
Gag reflex? Dead.
Shame? Buried.
I become the thing I was born to be, his.
Inch by inch, thrust by thrust, I let him fuck my mouth while I moan like a pornographic prayer. I mix in little licks, wet kisses, teasing sucks on the tip, soft cupping of his balls. He groans above me, hand tangled in my hair, hips starting to snap harder.
I sneak a look up. His face is raw, unfiltered, lips parted, brows scrunched like it hurts to feel this good.
Good.
I want him ruined.
He picks up the pace. More brutal. Less patient.
That coil in him is winding tighter, and I can tell he’s about to lose it.
So I lock eyes with him.
And finish him.
He explodes with a sharp growl, cock pulsing against my tongue as his cum slides down my throat. I swallow all of it, every drop. When I pull off him, he grabs my face, kisses me hard, his taste still lingering on my lips.
“You fucking Brat,” he growls, voice ragged.
“I’d say she passed the test,” Ryan murmurs, wide-eyed, arms crossed. Fred just giggles uncontrollably beside her.
Karter doesn’t let me go. “You bet your ass she did. That mouth was made to be used.”
Fred stammers, “You should seriously consider teaching a masterclass in head, girl.”
I laugh, breathless, my cheeks on fire. “I can’t believe I just did that… in front of you two.”
Karter tilts my chin, touching his forehead to mine, a rare gentleness behind the carnage. “How do you feel?”
My blood’s singing. “Like a sinner high on grace. Good. Wrong. Perfect.”
“Own it,” he whispers. “You’re ours now. And these girls? They don’t speak unless you say so.”
His hand slides to my waist. “I told Wyck we need a woman on the inside, someone who can run things with the same fire we do. I meant you. Maybe even the two of them too… if you trust them.”
Fred’s eyes sparkle. “Us? As the female version of the Devils?”
Karter smirks. “Literally just said that, Fred.”
He yanks me close again and bumps her out of the way. “You’ll need your own name. Devils of Cliffside is taken.”
I blink. “Wait… they know who you are?”
Ryan rolls her eyes. “Of course we do. I’ve worked with them before.
Just not under their ‘precious’ mansion’s roof.
” She mimics air quotes and drops her voice into a mocking purr.
“Nooo, I get to live with Mommy Dearest and her wrinkled husband #5. He wants me to call him Daddy. I’d consider it if he looked like Karter.
But he’s seventy, smells like mothballs, and probably has worms.”
I deadass choke on my laughter.
Fred howls. “Please tell me you’re writing a memoir.”
Ryan shrugs. “Chapter one, How to Suck Cock and Survive Your Stepfather. ”
“Oh my god,” I laugh so hard I have to clutch my stomach, tears threatening to spill. “Can I keep her? Please? I swear I’ll feed her and walk her twice a day.”
Karter snorts. “You’ll break her.”
“Not if I break you first.” I shoot him a grin before turning back to Ryan. “But seriously, why don’t you leave?”
Her smile fades. Something cracks behind her eyes. “It’s not that simple.” The words are whispered so quietly I almost miss them beneath the bass of the music.
“She says that a lot,” Karter mutters, eyes fixed on the bar ahead. “I’ve offered to slit his throat more than once, but she keeps turning me down.”
“You can’t kill every man that pisses me off, Karter,” Ryan sighs, brushing hair from her face.
His jaw ticks. “Watch me.”
I open my mouth to ask what the bastard does to her, but stop myself. Not tonight. Not here. The air’s already thick with too many ghosts.
Instead, I throw my arms around her. “Fuck that. I’m not letting tonight be about him. I’ve got one weekend left before the real world claws me back, and I want to forget. Who’s in?”
“Hell yes,” Ryan grins. Fred echoes it, raising her glass.
“Then let’s get wasted,” I say, dragging them toward the bar. “And not on that lime-flavored toilet water y’all were sipping earlier.”
Ryan slams her palm on the bar. “Tony! We need to black out. Make it burn, make it count.”
Tony stops mid-cleaning, grinning like we’ve just asked him to commit a felony. “Say less, baby girl. I got you.”
He nods to Karter. “You in, Devil?”
Karter shrugs, one arm already locking around my waist, dragging my back against him like he owns me. “Might as well. Not like I’m letting her out of my sight.”
His breath ghosts over my ear as he growls, “You smell like trouble, Brat. I want to bury myself inside you until that scent never leaves.”
“Mmm,” I purr, grinding slightly against him. “I was born for trouble.”
He kisses the curve of my neck. “You were born for me.”
My skin lights up like fire.
“Babe. Brat. Dirty girl,” I tease, looking up at him. “What’s next? Do I get a new title every time I suck your soul out?”
His fingers trail along my jaw, hooking under my chin. That crooked smile is pure sin. “Slut. Whore. Devil’s muse. Pick your poison.”
“You can call me whatever you want,” I murmur, pulling him into a kiss that tastes like whiskey and war. “I’m all yours.”
“Damn right.”
Tony slaps down the shots. “Careful. This one’s called ‘Hell’s Mouth.’”
Perfect.
We knock them back. The burn is savage. Ryan hisses, licking her lips. “Fuck, that hurts so good.”
“Come on, Fred.” She grabs her hand. “Let’s give these bastards a show.”
They disappear into the crowd, hips already moving before they hit the floor.
Karter downs his drink and sets the glass aside like he’s done playing nice. “Care to dance, Brat?”
Before I can answer, he’s already guiding me away from the bar, hand gripping mine like a leash.
“You’re not giving me much choice,” I murmur.
His gaze flashes like lightning. “That’s the point.”
The music hits. Heavy, pulsing. I lose myself in it, pressed to his chest, our bodies swaying like we’ve done this a thousand lifetimes before.
For a moment, I forget everything, who I am, what waits for me outside this club. There’s no pain here. No memories. Just the Devil and the girl he won’t let go.
The song shifts. Slower. Darker.
Then I feel it, that cold prick along the back of my neck. The sixth sense you can’t explain.
Someone’s watching me.
My eyes snap open. My body stiffens.
Karter notices immediately. “What is it?”
“I feel eyes on me.”
He scans the room, then chuckles darkly. “Of course you do.”
He jerks his chin to the far corner.
I follow his line of sight.
And freeze.
Wyck.
Standing still in a sea of chaos. Shadows clinging to him like smoke. His eyes locked on me like he’s seconds away from storming the floor and dragging me off.
Karter leans close. “That boy wants to skin me alive for touching you.”
“I should go to him,” I whisper.
Karter grins. “No. You should make him watch. ”
He steps back, fading into the crowd like a shadow himself.
The music changes again.
Something inside me snaps loose.
I don’t move toward Wyck. I stay rooted in place, center of the floor, bathed in blood-red light.
And I dance.
For him.
For me.
Slow. Hypnotic. Wicked.
My hands trail down my thighs, over the slits of my dress. Up my stomach. Over my breasts. I grab them. Squeeze.
Let my head fall back. Let my mouth fall open like a prayer.
I dance like no one’s watching, except I know he is.
And every move I make is a fucking threat.
This is who I am.
A woman made to tempt Devils.
Let them come.
I’ll burn them all down with me.