Devil you know diamond d.., p.13
Devil You Know (Diamond Devils Book 3), page 13
“Do it.”
Another flick of my tongue has her gasping. “Beg.”
Cool metal brushes against the bottom of my shaft. A warning bell chimes loud and clear in my ears.
“Do it or I’ll cut your cock off.”
“But you haven’t even fucked it with the new piercing yet.”
When there’s a slight sting on that sensitive underside, I hiss. “Careful, demon. You’re going to regret what I do to you after this if you keep that up.”
Before she can protest or do a hell of a lot worse, I suck her clit into my mouth. She drops the knife, letting out a sound that’s halfway between a sigh and a moan as she sinks into me. “That’s a good boy.”
I hate the nickname almost as much as it turns me on.
My fingers fumble over the mattress, searching for the discarded knife so I can cut myself loose and fuck her the way she deserves. But it’s nowhere in reach.
Her arousal drips down my chin, spilling over and sliding down my neck. Fuck me. How am I supposed to just lay here and not fuck her while she drenches my face? The knife was a prelude—this is the real torture.
“Mmm.” The sound rumbles from deep in my throat, making her quiver. She loves hearing how much I salivate over her, relish her. Nothing turns her on more.
She gasps. “Yes. Don’t stop.”
Between my lips, her clit pulses. She grinds her pussy against my face harder, and with a gush of arousal, she cries out. She collapses against me, thighs shaking and clit pulsing as I keep sucking while the orgasm wracks through her.
I go hard at her pussy, devouring her and licking every inch until her cries turn to whimpers and the spasms of her pussy slow.
“Oh my god.” My little demon slides off my face, gasping when she spots the wetness coating my chin and neck. She caresses my cheek. Almost tender for a girl who just had a knife against my cock. “Good boy.”
“Let me fuck you now.” I hate how raspy the words come out. Horny and desperate to come. Desperate for her. Every inch.
Her long, dark hair with shocks of red sways as she shakes her head. “I think I’ll fuck you instead.”
My spine stiffens. Where the hell does she plan on sticking that knife?
But she keeps her hands flat on my torso as she glides down, her pussy rubbing against my shaft. Thank god.
“Sit on my dick, Juliet.”
She giggles. “I love making you beg.”
“I’m not begging,” I snap.
The taunting smile doesn’t leave her lips as she rocks back and forth, dragging her arousal over my cock until it’s slick and dripping like my neck. “You’re going to come in two seconds, aren’t you?”
“You’re going to wish I would after I’ve fucked you raw.” My words come out in a pant, heart thundering as my balls clench, needing her to slide my cock inside her pussy now. If she keeps grinding on me like that, I’ll bust before I’ve even gotten inside her. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
She rocks back just enough that her pussy is off my shaft. I bite back a whimper. Her nail glides up the wetness glistening on my cock, flicking the tip and the piercing, sending a bolt of electricity through me. “Fuck!”
“I think I’ll take my time up here. Go slow enough that I’ll get mine, but you won’t get yours.”
“Oh, I’ll get mine. Deep inside you. Your pussy will swallow every drop.”
“You need time to heal. Fucking too soon will hurt. Or you could get an infection, and then what use would you be to me?”
“I don’t give a fuck about the pain.” I watch with hot desperation, adrenaline pumping, as Juliet slowly grinds against my shaft. She bites her lip, eyes squeezing shut as a moan falls from her mouth.
Her wetness is magical against my shaft, but I need to be inside her. The edging turns to agony as her hips move faster, ass smacking as she rocks back and forth. My balls start to clench, the cum ready to burst out.
But my blood goes cold when she reaches for that damn knife again.
Humming an unhinged lullaby, she skims the dull edge of the knife up my torso and stops at my chest. Next to the J she’s already cut there.
“What the fuck are you doing, demon?”
“Having fun.” She moans, grinding against my cock faster, careful to avoid the piercing and swollen tip.
Despite the knife pressed against my chest, I can’t help but enjoy the way she rides me. Normally, I want to be the one on top, in full control. With everyone that’s come before her, watching a woman ride me has reminded me of those nights with Rachel. Brought those nightmares rushing back.
But not with Juliet.
“I’m giving you a tattoo just like you gave me.” She slices the blade over my skin, drawing a U.
My body jerks to get away, survival instincts kicking in. “Agh! Fuck.”
But I don’t tell her to stop. I don’t want her to. The pain mixing with the pleasure sends sparks through every cell in my body like I’ve never felt before. I can’t hold back anymore. I slam my hips up, desperate to get inside her no matter how bad it hurts.
Somehow, she keeps her hand steady, carving an L on my chest. I bite down hard on my lip to stop the pained groans from escaping, the taste of copper mixing with her arousal still coating my tongue.
When she slices an I into my skin, I hiss through my teeth, the blood dribbling down my chest.
Her moans mix with my groans, the slap of skin on skin, and the wet slide of her pussy against my cock, creating a beautiful, twisted symphony.
She carves the final letters. E and T. When she’s satisfied with her handiwork, she brings the knife to her lips, nicking one when she grazes the blade over them to taste my blood.
“You’re so fucked up,” I pant, the fear and pain and adrenaline and arousal all making my head spin. “I fucking love it.”
Her unhinged grin lights me up. “I know.”
She trails the handle of the blade down between her legs, rubbing it against her clit while she rocks her hips. Her head tips back, her moan nearly rattling my bones.
“Come for me, little demon. Let me feel it. Clench those tight, wet walls on my cock.”
But before she can obey my order to slide my cock inside her, she jerks forward, a cry ripping from her throat as her pussy spasms. Her thighs shake with the orgasm, and I keep grinding my cock against her, my own orgasm nearly to the brink. “Trey.”
Normally, I don’t give a fuck hearing a girl moan my name. But her . . .
My chest squeezes pathetically, the echo of her crying out my name filling my head. Trey. Trey. Trey.
I’ll give anything to hear her call my name again.
My heart pounds, pleasure building as she unravels on top of me. I love how hard she comes with me. “Take my cock like my bad fucking girl.”
Juliet drops the knife, and it slips down onto the mattress, within reach. But I don’t try to grab it. Not yet.
Sweat coats my back as I continue thrusting my hips, desperate for the same release.
Her hands drop onto my chest as she pants, coming down from her orgasm. No. I need to come at the same time. Need to feel the pulses of her pussy while I shoot my load deep inside her.
“Okay,” she sighs. “I got mine.”
Then she slides off me, my throbbing, wet cock left cold without the friction from her body warming it. Wordlessly, she jumps down off the bed, reaching for her leather pants.
White-hot fury lances through me. “Get the fuck back over here. I’m not finished with you.”
She shrugs. “I’m finished with you. For tonight, anyway.”
I yank at the restraints, determined as fuck to get out of them now and fuck her as hard as I can. “Juliet.”
“Ooh.” She cocks her pierced brow at me. “I like when you growl my name like that. Do it again.”
“Juliet!” Her name is a shout this time as I slam my fists against the mattress. “Get on my cock now or I promise you, you will fucking regret it.”
She slides her corset back on, the rage boiling over with every article of clothing that covers her up. “I’m doing this for your sake. You’ll thank me later.”
I grab for the knife and start to saw at the rope connecting my wrist to the bed. The second I’m off this mattress, she better run like hell.
She half-skips over to me, not giving a damn about my efforts to cut myself free, and plants a chaste kiss on my new piercing. “This was so fun. Bye-bye.”
I shout her name, raging and spitting as I saw at the rope and thrash in my restraints. But the door clicks shut behind her, and by the time I’m finally free, she’s gone.
Chapter 11
Juliet
“Tell me you love it.”
Ned. Ned, Ned, Ned. His name is Ned. Don’t forget.
“Come on, honey. Just tell me how much you love it. Three little words.”
Ned. Smelly Ned. Bad-Breath Ned. Slimy Hands Ned.
Covering my ears doesn’t block out Autumn’s cries. Hoarse now. Fading. That makes the sound worse.
“Tell me you love it.”
While Sienna sleeps in her bed, back to me, I hunch over my laptop and punch in the address Trey gave me for Ned Miller.
220 Miller Road. Must be family property. Deep in the mountains, on an isolated plot of land with an old farmhouse and a shed, where he can hide from civilization and no one has to know about his extracurricular activities.
The trek up the mountain could be hazardous, but the path to get there is straightforward.
Thank god Trey managed to track down the address.
None of the other Devils batted an eye when I showed up to the hockey house and told them I was giving Trey a sedative. Hell, Damien and Knox carried Trey to his bed after he passed out on the couch. They did offer to help me when I planted that camera in his room, after all.
“What exactly are you going to do to him?” Knox asked. Damien had already disappeared from the room, not giving a shit about what I had planned for his teammate.
“Nothing he hasn’t already done to me.” Not exactly true, but Knox would flip if he knew all the devious things I had planned for the unconscious Devil.
Knox blinked a few times at my sickly sweet smile before he shivered. “Gotta admit—you creep me out, Juliet.”
“That’s what I like best about you, Knox.”
I managed to tie Trey down and pierce his cock and still had at least a solid hour before he finally stirred awake to keep playing our twisted game. Getting revenge on him and giving him a taste of his own medicine—grinding against him, flicking that piercing on his cock—made me come harder than I ever have in my life.
I liked seeing him at my mercy almost as much as I like being at his mercy. Almost.
His groans of pain and pleasure, his barked orders, his smooth skin and hard muscle beneath my palms, the trickle of his blood from the letters I cut into his chest. JULIET. So he’ll be reminded of me every time those wounds sting, every time he glimpses the letters in the mirror.
Despite every deranged thing we’ve done to each other, he’s right. We understand each other like no one else does. His darkness matches mine.
In her bed, Sienna snores softly. She’s barely been sharing the dorm with me this semester, spending most of her time getting laid in Luke’s bed. Now that their relationship isn’t taboo, they’ve been throwing themselves at each other like rabbits in heat, but she has clinicals bright and early tomorrow, so she can’t afford to be up all night with him.
She’d slap the shit out of me if she knew my plans for tonight. Are you kidding me, Juliet? What are you thinking? That’s so dangerous!
I scrawl a note for her on my desk before standing in front of the full-length mirror at the foot of my bed, removing the piercings from my brow, nose, and ears. Next the rings on my fingers, even my beloved serpent. I tuck all the jewelry into a drawer so Sienna won’t get suspicious before removing my makeup, wiping away every trace until I’m bare-faced. Uncomfortably youthful.
A new white dress slips over my head, the top stiff and hugging over my tits but the skirt flowy. He liked me in white. Tonight, that will be the last thing he sees.
While I kill Ned, I’ll make Brandon watch. So he’ll know exactly what’s coming.
At least, he’ll believe that’s what I have in store for him. But his fate will be much, much worse.
I grab my jacket and mask before tossing the handwritten note on Sienna’s desk.
Good luck with clinicals. I won’t be here when you wake up but don’t freak out. Just going out to have some fun.
Chapter 12
Trey
Ned Miller’s property is eerily silent, tucked away in the mountains off a winding, narrow dirt road.
Took longer to get here than I expected. About halfway through the trip, the gray sedan that followed me off campus was still behind me. Couldn’t have been a puck bunny—no way any of them wanted to ride my dick that badly. After some unnecessary turns and nearly getting myself lost, I finally shook them.
Definitely not paranoia anymore. Someone’s following me. Since the start of the semester, it seems.
Can’t be my father. He has better shit to do, and he’d hire someone to tail me before he lifted a finger to do it himself. Someone else is keeping an eye on me, and I better figure out why before they link me to a few corpses. Or Juliet. I won’t let her suffer more than she already has.
Frosty air nips at me as I swing my car door open, my face shielded by my mask. Hunting knife on one hip and pistol holstered on the other. Beneath my fleece, my chest itches, the name my little demon carved into my skin beginning to heal. JULIET. I hope I wear the scar of her name forever.
Snow flurries fall in lazy spirals from the white sky, blotting out any other color from this cold, monochrome world. Different planet up here in the mountains. In Diamond, the air is still warm enough for sweaters and hoodies.
My boots crunching over the thin layer of snow is the only sound as I near the two-story, ramshackle farmhouse with a shed nearby and a chicken coop around back.
Juliet didn’t breathe a word to me about her plans, and I wouldn’t have known she was here if I hadn’t tracked her phone. She turned it off halfway through her journey, remembering that cell phone signals could place her in the area the day Ned Miller and Brandon Williams wind up dead. Luckily, I knew there was only one place she could be headed.
Now where the fuck is she?
Gloves protect my hands from the icy wind and prevent me from leaving my prints as I circle the house, pressing up against the windows to peer inside, to strain to hear a confrontation.
Nothing. The only sign of life inside is the ignited wood in the fireplace and the smoke puffing out of the chimney.
A chill drifts down my spine and I spin around. But there’s no one out here with me. No sign of Juliet or the men she’s here to slaughter.
She shouldn’t have fucking come up here on her own. She might’ve been able to handle Craig at a carnival when he was drunk out of his mind and didn’t suspect a masked carnival worker would actually hurt him, but ambushing two grown men in the middle of nowhere is in another league.
The chicken coop is dark, a tall, patchy fence surrounding the little home to protect the vulnerable birds from the predators of the night, but the place hasn’t been used in years.
This isn’t a home—this is a hideout.
In the darkness, indents in the snow catch my eye. A closer inspection tells me they’re definitely prints.
I’m no expert and it’s nearly impossible to make them out clearly in the dark with the snow still falling, but they sure as hell don’t belong to a deer or a human. At best, a dog’s paw prints, maybe a coyote. At worst, a bear.
My chest clenches. Juliet. Where the fuck is she? Doesn’t she know that she shouldn’t go wandering onto some psycho’s property without telling anyone where she’s headed?
If those motherfuckers think they’re going to lay a single finger on her, I’ll rip their hands from their bodies before stuffing them down their throats.
I don’t bother sneaking anymore—I rush past the house, past the front porch with its roof nearly caved in, and to the dark, silent shed.
When I peer through the window, the interior is so dark, I almost can’t see anything.
Shadows slowly start to morph into shapes. A deer hanging from the rafters, head down. A bucket on the floor with a drain nearby to clear away the blood. A workbench with a long knife, gloves, and bones.
A flash of movement at the center followed by a shout—
In a wooden chair about two sizes too small for him, a man is limp, arms hanging down. Blood oozes from somewhere, pooling on the concrete floor beneath him.
Which one is he—Ned or Brandon?
Someone in a white dress and a neon-pink mask, the twin to my own, holds up a bloody knife.
My chest swells with pride and my smile grows beneath the mask. My little demon.
The man in the chair wails, “Who are you?”
“You know who I am, Ned. You know why this is happening. Now, I’m going to remove your fingers and toes one by one unless you tell me what I need to know. Where the fuck is Brandon?” Her cold demand makes my heart thump.
So Brandon isn’t here. Did Craig give her false information, or did Brandon manage to take off before she got here?
My hands curl into fists. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to find both of them here, kill them both and find the final man who hurt her that night. The man who killed her friend.
Now Brandon is missing and who the hell knows where he went. Who knows if we’ll find either of them.
Ned lets out a pathetic moan. He can’t even face his fate like a man because he isn’t one. He’s less than human. He’s scum. “I don’t know!”
“He was here.” Juliet paces in front of him, her pink mask and white dress out of place. Eerie. “So where the fuck is he now? You know.”
Ned shakes his head with great effort, tears and snot running down his face. Did she drug him? Or has he lost enough blood to grow this weak, to struggle to move? I love that she’s rendered him this fucking useless before I even showed up. Maybe she was right—maybe she really doesn’t need me. Maybe I underestimated her.
