Conclave (Devil's Night 3.5)

But all of a sudden, his arms wrap around me, and his whisper hits my neck. “And if I could go back, I wouldn’t have wasted a moment.”

He lifts me off my feet, and I suck in a breath as he carries me back a few steps. He drops down, bringing me into his lap, and I realize he’s in a chair. I still see slivers of the scene through the tanks, Lev rising and Samara panting and whimpering in protest that he stopped. He takes her legs, pulling her down to the end of the table as he unfastens his jeans.

Michael pulls me back against him, one arm around my body and one hand cupping my cheek as he whispers in my ear. “I would’ve left that warehouse that night, but I would’ve taken you with me instead.”

An ache hits my heart, but also a flutter. I love how we love each other now, but if he had taken me with him that night—if I hadn’t decided to walk home—so much might not have happened to keep us apart all that time.

“I would’ve kept my word,” he goes on. “Just kissing you and holding you, and that would’ve been enough then, because just the feel of you drove me out of my mind.” His breath is hot on my skin, and I hear the desire in his voice. “l would’ve sat you down on the counter in my parents’ dark kitchen that night, standing between your legs as I ate you up, because at any moment we could’ve been caught, and I wanted to get us into trouble. I wanted them to try to keep me from you the way they always did, only this time I wouldn’t have listened.”

Lev thrusts himself inside Samara, and I see David come from behind her, grabbing her arms and forcing them over her head as she gasps. She whimpers, but he covers her mouth with his before taking her breasts in his hands, squeezing them.

She pulls at his hold. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” David says. And then he sinks his mouth into her breast, not stopping.

But just as Lev starts going hard and Samara starts writhing under the attention of the two men, something comes down over my face, and I can barely breathe as Michael ties something around my eyes. The world goes black, and my heart pumps so hard, I want to smile and laugh and cry, because I’m too excited to know what to do. I raise my hand, feeling Michael’s necktie wrapped around my eyes.

Lev grunts. “Ugh, fuck.”

The table creaks on its bolts as moans and kissing fill the hot air of the engine room.

The camera starts clicking again as Alex takes her pictures. “Can David have his turn?” I hear Alex ask.

I don’t hear an answer as she takes more pictures.

“I would’ve kissed you,” Michael goes on, dragging his fingers along my jaw. “And touched your face and started sweating, because I was so hard, wanting something so sweet that I couldn’t have yet.”

The fabric of my dress chafes my breasts, and I nuzzle into him, breathing hard. Touch me. You can. I’m not sixteen anymore.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to stop,” he continues, “but I would’ve put you to bed, because the next time I came home from college you would’ve been seventeen.” The tip of his tongue flicks my ear before he catches the lobe in his teeth and slips a hand inside my dress, cupping my breast.

I gasp.

“And I would’ve gone under the clothes then,” he teases. “I would’ve snuck you into my room, taken off your panties, and touched you and let you touch me, and I would’ve kissed you everywhere, Rika.” He kneads with one hand and spreads the slit of my skirt, baring my legs and naked pussy, teasing me with his fingers. “Everywhere.”

“Michael…” I moan, picturing what could’ve been. The boys would never have gone to prison, and I would’ve been high, living for when Michael came home, because nothing feels as good as him wanting me.

“Please, stop stopping,” Samara whines. “I need to come”

The table has stopped creaking, and I hear a shuffle of feet as Michael slides his fingers up and down my pussy, chaste and never dipping inside.

“My turn,” I hear David say in the distance.

“It would’ve driven us crazy,” Michael whispers, “and we would’ve come so close it hurt.”

Doing everything we could right under our parents’ noses but dying to do the one thing we couldn’t.

“And when you turned eighteen,” he tells me, the whispers seeping through my body and making my clit throb so hard, “I would’ve bid my time during the dinner and the fucking cake and the presents, and you wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it, because you would’ve felt my eyes on you during the whole damn thing and known what was coming. They wouldn’t have been able to find you. They would’ve been frantic, because I would’ve had you far away, down on the beach, in a tent, and I wouldn’t have stopped…all night.”

I bite my bottom lip, rubbing the tip of my nose against his cheek as I grind on him a little. The thick ridge of his cock pulses under me, and I take his hand between my legs and guide it down farther, pressing his fingers into the wetness on my inner thigh. A strap of the dress falls down, the air hitting my bare breast.

“Rika…” he growls under his breath.

“Michael.”

The camera clicks another picture, but this time I see the flash through my blindfold. The skin of my nipples grows tight as they harden. Alex is here.

Michael rubs his thumb over my nipple, and my breath shakes. “And you wouldn’t have turned up until I dropped you off for school the next morning,” he goes on. “In front of everyone so they knew who the fuck had you now.”