When no response comes, Devlin looks around at the group gathered to watch our scuffle.
“Give me a knife,” he says. “This bitch doesn’t know when to quit.”
“No,” I cry, going still under him. “Don’t cut me.”
“You were warned,” he growls. “Behave at the party or get a permanent reminder of who you belong to. Think of it like a dog tag you can never take off.”
“Please don’t cut me,” I blurt as someone hands him a pocket knife. I grab his wrist, but he forces my hand down until the tip of the blade touches my forehead. My body is suddenly shaking, fear coursing through me with each heartbeat. “Please,” I beg. “I’ll do what you want. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be obedient. I’ll drink all the shots you give me.”
Devlin leans down, his expression regretful as he strokes his fingers gently across my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Good dog,” he whispers, and he chucks me under the chin like I really am a fucking dog.
He hands the knife back and pulls me to my feet, wrapping an arm around my waist. His fingers are cool against my bare skin, and I try to ignore the heat spreading where he touches. God, how can I still be attracted to this boy? How can I hate him and want him at the same time?
He hands me a shot and clinks his own against it. I’m tempted to throw the drink in his face and try to run again, but I know when I’m beaten. Gathering my last shred of dignity, I take the shot without wincing at the burn.
“A girl who can throw down whiskey,” Devlin purrs, nuzzling my ear. “I like it.”
A hot chill races through me, and I tell myself that I won’t give in to what my body wants no matter how drunk I get. But I’m terrified that if I take enough shots, I’ll forget how much I hate him. Once he’s fed me a few shots, though, he seems to grow bored of it. I’m not fighting him anymore, so I’m no fun. He obviously likes the challenge. The luster of having a new pet has worn off now that he’s shown me off to everyone at the party and gotten my complete obedience.
The more I know him, the harder it is to hate him, even when he’s stumbling around the party with his arm around me, so drunk I don’t know if I’m holding him up or being his dog. I haven’t gotten any information that can take down the Darlings, but I know a lot more about Devlin Darling. His mother is a lush, and no matter how badly he acts, she won’t say no to him. And neither will anyone else. He has more power than he knows what to do with.
At last, he sees Colt and throws an arm around him. “Let’s get out of here,” he slurs. “This party is dead.”
I want to point out that it’s his party, but I keep my mouth shut because I want to get out of here, too. Devlin is drunk off his ass, and I have no idea what he’ll come up with next. Since his aim seems to be public shaming, it’s safer to have him somewhere without an audience.
When we reach the car, Devlin tries to get in the driver’s seat, and panic clutches me. I grab his arm. “Let me drive.”
Devlin looks down at me like he forgot I was on the end of his leash. “Sweetie Pie,” he says with a slur, stepping closer to me. He drops the leash and cups my face in his large palms, his eyes struggling to focus on mine, his breath so whiskey-soaked it could get me drunk. At least, I blame that for the lightheadedness that makes my head swim when his hips crowd mine against the sleek car, rocking slightly and sending a curl of pleasure through my traitorous body.
His fingers slide behind my neck, his gaze sweeping over my face to my full lips. My heart stops. He’s going to kiss me.
A soft snapping sound startles me, and I feel the collar release from my neck.
Devlin smirks. “I may be drunk, but I’d have to be dead in a ditch before I let a dog drive my car.”
“Fine,” I say, shoving at his chest. “Kill yourself. I don’t care.”
He doesn’t even budge. He smiles wider, slowly rocking his hips against mine, his neck arched to look down into my face. “We’re gonna fuck, aren’t we?”
“Get off me,” I say, flustered by the physical contact and the way my body is doing things I definitely didn’t give it permission to do.
Devlin’s fingers skim my cheek before he buries them in my hair, tugging gently to tip my head back. “Come with me,” he says, his words impulsive but sincere for once, and I see a flash of the Devlin girls must fall for. Tortured, fucked up,passionate. The fire of rage I saw earlier has been tempered by alcohol, and now he’s looking at me with a ravenous hunger, like he needs me so much he might die if I say no. His thumb skims over my full lower lip, and a tingle runs through me, whispering to my own need.
“Say yes,” he murmurs, his voice smooth and sweet as cream.
For one terrible second, I forget everything else. Devlin has done something to me, pulled me into the magnetic air around him, made me forget who he is and who I am and what he did to me tonight. And then my brain overrules my dizzy body.
“No.” I shove at his chest again, and Devlin takes his sweet time stepping back, making sure I know that he could keep me pinned there if he wanted. That he’s letting me go on his terms.
Colt looks back and forth between us, as if waiting to see if we’re done. When neither of us speak, he steps up behind Devlin.
“Let me drive,” he says, clapping a hand over Devlin’s shoulder.
Relieved, I reach for the back door of the car, but Devlin grabs my wrist. “What you doing there, Sweetie?”
I glare at him. “Getting a ride home.”
“Maybe next time.”