Devil's Plaything (Playthings, #1) (2 page)

Standing, he towered over her, the heat from his strong, powerful body drawing her closer, enveloping her, a physical representation of whatever they had between them. Often she wondered if he felt it too. He couldn’t be here just for sex. A man like him would have no trouble in that department, so it must be something else. But Julie wasn’t near brave enough to ask.

“Look at me,” he said, and she looked up, once again falling into his gaze.

Then he pressed her close, the hard ridge of his erection nestled against her soft belly. She smiled. How did he know that she needed his reassurance, and how could he so easily give it, even without words? Maybe she did need to work on her poker face.

She tugged at his shirt, and, smart man that he was, he got her meaning immediately, taking control and pulling the shirt over his head, leaving his beautiful chest exposed to her hungry gaze. A thousand times she’d seen his powerful chest, and a thousand times it had taken her breath away. Heavy muscle sculpted over bone, as if chiseled by God himself, the light dusting of brown hair a couple of shades darker than the more sandy color on his head, the only thing softening the solid slabs of his pectorals. A fine trail of that same hair covered his abdomen, turning darker still as it went lower, down the defined muscles of stomach and then out of sight beneath his waistband. But Julie knew what lay even lower, and her pussy clenched with her need to see it.

Hand on his shoulder, she pushed him back down into the chair and kneeled in front of him, unbuckling and removing one boot, then the other, one sock, then the other. How gone was she? She even thought the man’s
feet
were sexy! Still, no need to tarry when she knew what other delights awaited. She pulled him back up, and he chuckled as he complied. Snaking her hands up his solid calves, strong, heavily muscled, taking a brief detour at his solid, rounded ass, she finally reached her destination and made quick work of his belt and button. Carefully sliding his zipper down around the hard bulge of his erection, she licked her lips at what she knew was to come. She pulled his pants down his legs but left his underwear intact. He wore the sexiest boxer briefs, and she loved to watch him walk in them, the fabric lovingly nestling his ass, outlining his cock in exquisite detail.

When she stood, he captured her lips in another deep kiss, rotating his hips to grind his cock into her belly. After a moment, she pulled back and raised an eyebrow toward the bed, and a wicked smile that made her pussy wetter and her body shiver spread across his lips. Hand in hand, they walked the few short steps to the sleeping area, and he pulled the curtain while simultaneously leading her to the bed. She sat on the edge, and he stood in front of her, leaving her torn as to whether she should keep her gaze straight ahead and on the cock that was now at eye level or look up into his piercing blue eyes, which she knew churned with the restrained heat that was a promise of things to come.

He grabbed her hand and put it on his cock, making the decision for her. Cupping him through the fabric, she moaned at the feel of his hardness in her hand, but only for a moment, for soon she wanted more. After sliding two fingers of each hand on either side of his waistband, she pulled, watching the slow descent of the fabric as it peeled away from his body. Finally, his cock sprang free, hard, thick, and heavy, the tip wet with his precum, the shaft purple-veined and smooth, his large sac nestled in a thatch of brown curls. He shifted, making his cock bob, and she couldn’t resist a taste, darting out her tongue to catch the liquid at his tip.

His underwear hit the floor, and with her newly unoccupied hands she grasped his shaft, the feel of the powerful tool in her grip turning her on even more. She stroked him once, twice, admiring the contrast of the pale skin of his shaft against the darker skin of her hands. The thought fled as she leaned and rasped her tongue across his sac, earning her a hard shudder. Then she moved her tongue up, up, and applied pressure to that spot just at the bottom of his shaft—

“Enough,” he said in a lust-thickened voice as he wildly reached into her nightstand. Recently, she’d purchased condoms and was grateful that she’d placed them nearby. She needed him to fuck her this instant.

After making quick work of sheathing himself, he gave her a predatory grin and pushed her back on the bed, climbing between her thighs. He reached down and stroked her slit, the sticky wetness that had gathered there coating his fingers almost instantly. Gliding through her juices, he spread her labia, circled her before inserting two fingers. He was always considerate, testing her readiness before he entered her, probably something a man of his length and girth did as a matter of course, but she liked to think he did it just for her just because he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

It was unnecessary though; she was thoroughly drenched, and her pussy practically vibrated with the need to be filled by him. She opened her legs wider and hooked her arms around his waist, at which he chuckled.

“You’re ready, eh?” he said as he lined his cock up to her hole. “Here I am.”

She’d never get used to this, the pulling stretch that burned so good, the way her folds opened at his unyielding invasion, the slick rub of skin still potent, even through the latex barrier. Inch after inch he went into her, slowing only when he reached the last couple, mindful that he was thicker at the base. She tilted her hips up and pressed against his waist, the movement fully seating him inside her.

Once again she felt whole.

Her pussy pulsed around his cock, and she squeezed her inner muscles tight, legs locked around his waist. And then he moved, shallow thrusts at first that increased in speed and tempo, the movement wrenching grunts and moans from her. Silent but for an occasional moan here and there, she could map his pleasure from the hitches in his breath, his deep exhales, the way his movements became more frantic and less rhythmic.

Color flashed behind her eyes, and the tingle in the pit of Julie’s stomach exploded into a burst of pleasure that flamed through her body so powerfully she couldn’t release a sound. As the wave crested, she felt him harden even more, thrusts now more powerful and erratic before he too froze and released his seed on a low moan. The energy seemed to drain from his body, and he lowered himself on top of her, careful not to crush her with his weight. They touched everywhere, arms, legs, torso, and best of all, he was still buried deep inside her, his cock sporadically twitching. He leaned down to capture her lips in a deep kiss, hands exploring her body.

She felt him softening and clenched her muscles, trying to hold on for as long as she could. But soon he slipped out of her, and she sighed at the loss.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered as he framed her face with one of his big hands.

He lay on his side next to her and coaxed her into an embrace, her back to his front.

Safe. Underneath the bone-deep satisfaction, the wanton sex that was so at odds with who she was, she felt safe.

Without a doubt, she knew this man would protect her. She knew his body. She suspected she knew his soul.

If only she knew his name.

The tightening of his arms around her told her he felt the turbulence of her thoughts. He kissed her shoulder, held her closer, and she grabbed his hand and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckle.

“Sleep,
nebesa
.”

She resisted, wanted to steal every second she could, even if she dared not ask him any questions, but it was a losing battle.

When she woke, he was gone.

D
’yavol hurried down the block toward his car on full alert. He had lingered longer than he’d intended, but such was always the case with Julie. Coming to her was madness, and dangerous, but it had gotten harder and harder to resist. He reasoned that at least he wouldn’t be seen, the location of her apartment allowing him, or anyone with half a brain, easy entry and exit. He bristled at the thought. He hated her living there, or anywhere unsafe, and had often considered moving her somewhere else. It was a stupid thought, would require him to get more involved, not less. So many of the times he’d visited, he’d sworn it would be the last, that he’d see her and never come back, get away before the taint of knowing him finally poisoned her.

But each time he went, saw her open the door, her brown eyes tentative but her happiness at seeing him clear, he relented. D’yavol’s presence was typically greeted with a much different reaction, and even though he knew this thing with Julie was mostly just play and definitely temporary, he welcomed the feeling,

Being wanted.

Giving joy instead of fear, pleasure instead of pain.

Julie was his
nebesa
, his heaven, and had been since the very first time he’d seen her...

••••

T
he block was quiet, but that was to be expected at this hour, the time of day that could be late into night or early morning, depending on one’s perspective. For D’yavol, it was the end of a long, and unfortunately uneventful, night. He’d been off tonight, so, as he so often did, he’d gone out to watch, maybe see what the new crew that had arrived recently was up to, maybe find some trouble. They called themselves the Steel Hearts, and, from what D’yavol had learned, they acted much like a motorcycle club with their bikes and beards and jackets and old ladies. Not a problem on his end, but Demon, his friend and “promoter,” suspected they were looking for more unsavory diversions, perhaps to poach talent or to establish competing events, and for that, they would need permission, not to mention a hefty fee. Demon fancied himself a businessman and liked to use flowery words like “license” and “operations.”

D’yavol had no such illusions. They were animals. He was an animal. And a murderer.

Sure, he didn’t mug people or rob liquor stores, kept innocents out of harm’s way, and yeah, he’d thought about trying to leave that filthy, violent world behind, but none of that changed the reality of who and what they—and he—were. And if these Steel Hearts were intending to set up a new operation, D’yavol was here to remind them this “operation” came with rules and at a price. Besides, he liked to take the measure of new groups. More than a few had tried to co-opt him for their organizations, and they weren’t shy about their means, using everything from promises of wealth to vague or not so vague threats. Neither ploy moved him. D’yavol would always be independent. But still, a little information could never hurt.

D’yavol figured he’d hang around until the sun came up. From his vantage point on the roof of an apartment building, he could see the group five Steel Hearts he’d been watching all night still huddled in an alley, drinking and generally being buffoonish. He idly wondered why none of the neighbors had complained, but looking at the Steel Hearts, he could understand the reluctance to get involved.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw an approaching figure, below-average height, delicate steps suggesting a woman. What the hell was a woman doing out alone this time of night? Momentarily diverted from the Steel Hearts, D’yavol looked at the woman through his binoculars. She wore athletic shoes that had seen better days and green scrubs, tight around the thickness of her thighs and hips, the top loose, though it didn’t conceal the fullness of her breasts, with a white turtleneck under it, her only concession to the cold. She also had some kind of badge around her neck, but it was flipped so he couldn’t read it. Best guess, she was a hospital worker heading home after a late shift.

There was no rational explanation for her walking home alone at this hour, in this neighborhood especially, but in any neighborhood really. And she should be more alert, but this woman seemed relaxed and open, not remotely furtive, and to predators like the Steel Hearts, like him, she screamed one thing: prey.

If she were lucky, the Steel Hearts might catcall her a little but leave her mostly alone. D’yavol didn’t believe in luck. And for some reason, though it wasn’t his place to interfere, he couldn’t let this woman fall victim and do nothing about. He wouldn’t.

The Steel Hearts had noticed her approach, so, releasing an epithet, D’yavol gathered his belongings and headed down to the street. She was about fifty feet from the alley by the time he reached the street, and two Steel Hearts stepped directly into her path, both fairly young, but tall, broad, and menacing-looking, probably especially so to a woman alone. They wore insignia jean jackets with the sleeves cut off, a gray heart with a knife through it embroidered on the back. After a momentary start, she recovered nicely, said, “Excuse me,” and stepped into the street to go around.

D’yavol was impressed. No doubt the Steel Hearts were trying to funnel her closer to the wall and the alley, but she’d given herself freedom to move. The Steel Hearts were undeterred. One walked beside her, the other in front, and the three remaining members stayed hidden in the alley.

“Nice bag,” the taller of the two said.

It wasn’t. In fact, it looked like one of those reusable grocery bags with an area supermarket’s logo screen painted on. She didn’t respond, just gripped the bag tighter and sped up. The tall one stepped into her path and tilted his shoulder. She bumped into him and recoiled hard, the impact sending her to the ground. There was fear in her eyes now, and it ignited instant rage, made D’yavol’s blood flow through his body hot as lava, and spurred him down the street on a beeline toward the woman. The shorter Steel Heart approached, but before he could reach her, D’yavol kicked his legs from under him, sending him to the ground, his arm making an audible
crunch
at the impact. D’yavol looked at the taller man and glanced at the alley, sure that all could see the rage that backed up the two hundred forty-five pounds of pure muscle on his six-five frame.

Tall grabbed his compatriot, and they rushed off to the alley, and with half a brain still on what was going on behind them as the Steel Hearts gathered themselves and ran off, D’yavol looked down at the woman and offered his hand. She hesitated a moment, looking uncertain, but then she reached out and accepted his hand, and he pulled her up.