Devil (The Marchesi Family 3)

Fuck, if I were really honest, I might just drop to my knees. The memory of his cock filling my mouth was enough to make me hard as steel any time I thought about it.

I poured myself a whiskey and downed it in one go. The burn was satisfying as hell, but the fiery liquid did nothing to wash the images of Devil from my mind. I’d probably have to finish the bottle for that. Why give myself a headache when I could just give into my favorite fantasy?

Because I was fucking done with that bastard. Done with worrying about retribution from him. Done with rehashing the bargain we’d made, and one hundred percent done with fantasizing about him.

I poured myself a second drink and threw it back before turning on a cold shower and forcing myself to endure it. Even the icy water failed to make my dick get on board with my need to banish Devil from my mind.

I shut off the shower, dried myself, and fell into bed. I wasn’t sure when the last time I’d eaten was, but I couldn’t cook for shit, and I didn’t even have the energy—mental or physical—to deal with ordering food. Whiskey was a grain, right? That would have to do.

I curled on my side and wrapped the covers around myself. The weather had turned cold again, and I’d forgotten to turn on the heat. That combined with the cold shower made my bedroom feel like a meat locker.

I was thankful I’d run myself ragged all day because that meant I had a chance of actually getting a decent night’s sleep. I was just starting to drift off when I slipped into a half-awake fantasy that wasn’t quite a dream but wasn’t quite something I could control either. Devil was standing in my doorway. He was naked and wet like he’d also just showered.

He sauntered in like he belonged there, and I didn’t tell him otherwise. He stretched out on the bed and started to fist his cock. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long for what?”

“Since I had a dick in me.”

I tried to fight my way back to consciousness. I wasn’t going to do this. “There are apps for that.”

Dream Devil laughed. “There are cops for that too.”

“No.” I said the word out loud, sitting up and scrubbing my hands over my face. How was I going to keep that fucking asshole out of my dreams?

I flopped back and stared at the ceiling. I tried to take slow breaths, but that relaxation shit never worked for me. My hand drifted down to my cock which was still hard and aching from the dream.

I stroked myself lazily, trying to recall what I used to fantasize about before Devil had jerked me off in an alley. Everything I came up with was boring as fuck compared to him. He’d ruined vanilla fantasies for me. One more strike against him.

My thoughts drifted to that night. To the way he’d caressed me with his gun like it was an extension of his hand. How sick was it I’d nearly come in my pants from that touch?

11

Devil

I braced myself on the wall with one hand while I used the other to guide the dildo to my hole. I pushed back onto it, gasping as it stretched me. I hadn’t bothered to open myself up. I didn’t want this to be easy. I wanted to feel every bit of delicious pain as I imagined Joe’s cock forcing its way into me.

I went slowly, easing back as I placed both hands on the wall, forcing myself not to touch my cock. If I were with Joe, if he were in charge, my hands would be bound. I was sure of it. He didn’t want to be restrained, but I knew he wouldn’t trust me, and he wouldn’t want me to be able to touch my cock. He probably wouldn’t want me to come at all. But if he fucked me hard and rough like I knew he would, I might come hands-free from just the slide of his dick in and out of my ass, stretching me, taking me, trying to force me to his will.

When I’d taken every inch of the dildo inside me, I forced myself to stay still, really feeling the stretch, the way it burned, my body’s impatience to move. Joe would force me to wait. He was probably used to waiting for things, some of which he never got. I never waited. I charged in and took what I wanted.

I almost never bottomed, except like this, but I loved the feel of being stuffed, being used. Joe would know just how to give me what I wanted. He would hurt me just right, and I would let him.

I was thinking way too much. I needed to let the fantasy take over. I leaned forward until the dildo came almost all the way out of my ass. Then I pushed back, taking all of it, working myself with slow careful strokes, ones that taunted me, teased me, and made me feel like I might lose my mind. How much longer could I keep it up?