But that was a game, and this… This isn’t. Is it?
“Are you fucking with me?” I ask. “Is this your revenge for what I did to you? Or why are you here, Devlin?”
“You’re the one playing games with my head,” he says. “First you can’t get enough of me, and then you don’t want anything to do with me. Then you want me to make you cum, but you tell me it’s goodbye. Then you turn around and do what you did tonight, making me want you. And you tossed me your hat like I’m your man. So what is it, Crystal? What do you want?”
“I want… You,” I admit, my throat aching with unshed tears. “But I can’t have that. So just… Just go.”
“And I want you,” Devlin says quietly, taking my face and turning it toward him again. This time, his grip is tender, his gaze soft but intense. “I don’t fuck around, and there’s a reason for that. It means something to me. More than it should. I know you kept coming back for more because that was your game, that you wanted to make me fall for you. And you did. You’re the one who won, Crystal. You wanted me, and you got me, and here I am. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t tell me it was all a game and be rid of me. It’s not that easy.”
“Devlin,” I whisper, closing my eyes. His lips meet mine, gentle but firm, commanding mine to open for him so he can taste my mouth, his tongue searching it as if for the hidden clues that go deeper than my words. Is he as fucked up about this as I am? Is it as hard for him to trust my motives as it is for me to trust his?
His tongue caresses mine as he lays me back on the bed, his hand cradling my head. Without breaking the kiss, he pushes my blankets down, settling his body between my thighs. Need builds inside me at the contact, and I tug at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up his body and over his shoulders. He lifts up for a second to let me peel it off, then grabs my shirt and pulls it over my head. He gazes down at my body, clad only in a pair of white cotton underpants, like I’m more beautiful than anything he’s ever imagined.
“My god, Crystal,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Look at you. Can you blame me for being so fucking crazy?”
Before I can answer, he lowers himself onto me, his warm skin meeting mine. Relief and pleasure wash over me, and I wrap myself around him, greedy for the comfort of his body on mine. He devours my mouth, rocking his hips against mine with every swipe of his tongue. We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, until I’m drunk with it. He rocks slowly against me, the ridge of his cock pulsing against me with steady, dizzying pressure until I can’t hold back. I cry out into his mouth as I cum, ashamed at my inability to hold back.
Devlin moans in response, grinding me deeper into the bed. When at last he pulls away, my lips feel swollen and hot. I arch up against him, my nails digging into his shoulders. I need more, even as my breath is still coming quick and hot.
“Devlin,” I whisper, throwing my head back as his heated lips trace my jawline and move down the column of my throat. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” he says, leaning up on his elbows to look down at me. “I had a couple beers, but I know what I’m saying. I’m one hundred percent yours—heart, body, and soul. And you’re mine, Crystal Dolce. I don’t care who knows it or what happens next. I just know I have to be with you.”
I pull him back down, kissing him like it’s the only thing I’ll ever need. How can he say those things to me, such perfect things, after all he’s done? How can I believe them, or even want to believe them? I only know that I do. That I feel the same about him. In this moment, nothing else matters. There’s just us, and it’s enough, and more than enough. It’s perfect.
He kisses me more forcefully this time, sweeping me up in his consuming passion, thrusting his tongue roughly against mine, sucking and biting at my lips, my chin, my neck. His tongue swirls over my skin as his hands roam over me with possessive roughness. I drink in the desperation in his touch, the thoroughness of his hands as they rake over me, squeezing my breasts, my hips, my ass, pushing between my legs.
I open for him, craving all of it and more. He pulls my panties aside and sinks his fingers into me, groaning against my throat and sending shivers through me. Knowing he feels the same, that he’s as hungry for me as I am for him, electrifies me. I reach for the button of his jeans, undoing it and pushing them down.
Devlin’s ready for me, pressing his hardness into my hand and rasping my name against my neck, sending tremors of desire spiraling through my entire body. I suck in a breath, my knees clenching as I squirm for relief against his hand. I stroke along his length, wanting it so badly I could weep even as I tremble at the sheer size of him, the heat, the way he feels so wild and raw against my small fingers. I can feel his vein pulsing against my palm, but I stop at the ridge around the head, running my thumb over the tip.
“Put it in,” he orders, his voice rough and commanding.
“I’m still sore from today,” I say, my thighs trembling around his hips.
“Get used to it.”
He grabs my hips and rolls us over, so I’m straddling him. His rigid shaft is hot as a fever against my tender flesh. “Lift for me, baby,” he says, guiding my hips up. “Now sink that tight cunt down over my tip nice and slow. I want to feel you take me balls deep in your grip. I’m all yours, Sugar. Every inch.”
I swallow hard and guide him to my entrance, feeling my bruised flesh tighten in protest at the invasion. I press past it, to the ache inside me that wants this, needs it, despite the pain. When I look up, Devlin is watching me take him in, his eyes hooded and glazed with that look of pure, blissful oblivion I love so much. I watch, too, biting my lip to keep from panting at the sight of his cock stretching me open so far, sliding deeper and deeper. Taking my hand away, I sink onto him to the hilt, my thighs tensing at the familiar ache when he reaches my depth.
His hands tighten on my hips, and his gaze meets mine, his eyes burning like the blue edge of a flame. “Ride me, baby,” he says, his voice hoarse with lust.
“I…I don’t know how,” I admit. I feel cold and vulnerable and exposed sitting here on him where he can see me fully. He feels so far away.
Devlin’s eyes darken with something else, and he sits up, pressing his warm chest to mine. It was just what I needed, and at the same time, so horribly intimate that I wish he was lying down again. This is Devlin Darling. Whatever he says, it’s a lie, a trap. I’ve been here, and I know what comes after.
“It’s okay, Crys,” he murmurs, stroking my hair back and circling the back of my head with his big hand. “I’m here for you, baby. Always. I’ll show you. I just need to be inside you again, to feel you like I did before. I want to watch you fall apart, go to pieces for me. It’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart.”
A little thrill goes through me at his words. Because heneedsme. Devlin Darling needs me. And it’s not just another ploy. Even if he says so later, I’ll know the truth. I can see it all over his face, in the desperation in his eyes. I can feel it all through his body, in the desperation in his touch. In the way he’s trembling with holding back; in the tenderness in his arms as they cradle me against him.
“What about what you said before?” I ask, my own voice almost cracking with the effort of being still with him now, like this, while he’s inside me. I want to move, want to feel the friction between our bodies build until we both combust.
“What did I say? You should know by now I’m full of shit, Crystal. Don’t believe half of what I say.”
“That I’m better off without you,” I say. “It’s not true. I’m only good with you.”
“That one was true,” he says, lacing his fingers through my hair and cradling my head. “You’re better off without me and you know it, Sugar. I’m no good for you. But I can’t live without you. I tried, and I don’t know how.”