Spin Devil

Cleo lowered her eyelashes, not bearing to look at him. David knew, of course. He knew. That last night in college, Cleo had spoken someone else’s name when David had made love to her. It had been just a whisper, almost painful to speak aloud, but by the way he had stiffened she knew he had heard it clearly. Cleo was still embarrassed about it, and she still wanted to believe she hadn’t spoken that name out loud in an intimate moment.

Her voice broke. “David, I just—”

“Zip it you three!” Sebastian thundered. “Sit down and open your legs for me, Cleo. I’m coming in…and I’m coming inside you.”

“You bastard!” she screeched furiously, wanting to rip his eyes out, but Jason and David held back her wrists and pulled her downward, forcing her to sit on a blanket.

Sebastian chuckled a slow, mirthless laugh. His laugh sounded old, as if it had rusted from so little use.

Slowly kneeling before her, he placed his hand over her knee. She jerked at his touch, her heart pounding against her breast like a mad little thing. Splaying his fingers over her knee, he slid his hand upward, shifting his thumb to her inner thigh. His touch was firm, possessive. It scorched her, all of her, even her heart, as if he’d taken what was left of it and flung it into the fiery red pit of a volcano.

She knew he should make her sick. She knew she should cringe at his touch, but instead her body felt like liquid. Like she had wings to fly and was floating above the ground as if by magic. Still she despised it, despised the way he made her feel and the hundreds of times he’d made her cry. So she slammed her legs shut, trapping his wayward hand in the process.

He shook his head, a lock of black hair falling on his forehead when he did so. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want me.”

“I don’t.”

“Liar.”

With both hands and with little effort, he forced her thighs open. She yelped when he cupped her pussy, splaying his fingers on her ass and rubbing the heel of his palm against her clit. His touch ignited her. Closing her eyes, she mewled helplessly as she fought the wildness raging inside her.

“You’re very aroused, Cleo. So wet. You’ve made it a habit of lying to yourself all these years.”

“I don’t…lie. Please stop…stop this.”

“Do you really want me to stop?”

It was hard to look at him. Hard to look at his proud, powerful face, but she forced herself to. Bravely, she opened her eyes and met his lethal black gaze, biting her lower lip in a futile attempt to keep it from trembling. It wasn’t fair that he should know. Know how and where to touch her, to bend her will in such a way. “Yes.”

That shaky word brought a well of stinging tears to her eyes and she quickly dropped her eyelashes to hide them from him. There was no way in hell she was ever going to admit that she wanted him. No way in hell would she ever succumb to his caresses, to his domination, no matter what her body wanted. No matter what her heart said. The poor thing was badly broken and poorly mended. The little dear obviously had no idea what it was in for if she succumbed. It was not in its best interest and she would not willingly put herself through four more years of misery.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and drew in a deep breath. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. Why should she cry? All she had to do was say no and mean it, and this would be over with. Sebastian might be the meanest son of a bitch in the world but her friends—no matter how far gone and drunk—would never allow him to hurt her. And deep down, Cleo knew it.

“What is this?” Sebastian whispered, his breath hot against her face as he bent forward. She would have preferred he mock her, for the concern in his voice was even more painful. His thumbs brushed the wetness from the corners of her eyes. “Are you crying, Cleo?”

Cleo forced her eyes open with the last remaining shreds of hostility she’d clung to like a lifesaver. “I hate you,” she hissed.

The men’s grips tightened around her wrists when she tried to pull away but her movements were weak, as if she’d been somehow drained of all energy. She tried once again but before even making a decent effort, went limp in defeat. Maybe it was better to stop fighting so he could finish with her already—finish the slow, painful torment he’d subjected her to for years. Perhaps when he was through she might not feel anything anymore. Maybe this overwhelming hate for him would be replaced by nothing but a welcome, blissful numbness.

“Baby…I want to make you shudder and scream and moan. I don’t want you to cry.” He cupped her face with his big, strong hands and brushed his lips against hers. Cleo lost her breath completely when he pressed his lips to hers firmly and forced his tongue into her mouth.

Fire. She was on fire…blazing under the strokes of his strong, wet tongue.

Heat flamed inside her like a furnace and he fed it with every thrust, every dark claim of his tongue. He pillaged her lips, claimed every inch of her as his own. She fell under his spell, his black magic, and even moaned when he tilted his head sideways to gain better access. He tasted of things that were hazardous, bad for your health—beer and cigarettes and man. It couldn’t be good for her, feeling this. It couldn’t be good for her, wanting him. All of him. All the time.

When he withdrew, Cleo was feverish and breathing harshly.

“Why don’t I give you a few minutes to think about it?” Sebastian calmly suggested, seemingly unaffected by the same kiss that had left her limp, dazed and burning.

Chapter Three

Cleo shuddered when he left her, suddenly feeling cold and vulnerable, her chest heaving with each breath, her eyes wild and desperate on his retreating back.

For a crazy moment she would now promptly forget, she wanted to beg him to come back to her. Beg him to touch her, fuck her. Beg him to break the strict, self-imposed restrictions she’d lived with her whole life and make loud, crazy love to her like he had to the women who’d stumbled out of his dorm room after hours and hours of moaning. Instead, she silently watched as he paused before Luella and stretched a hand out to her, palm up.

“Let’s show Cleo how it’s done, shall we?”

“With you? Are you kidding me? I’ve lived for this moment.”