The Devil I Crave (Devil's Knights 2)

“Luca, what are you doing?”

Ignoring my question, he pushed me down on the table until I was flat on my back, chest heaving with a mixture of fear and desire. He shoved my skirt up to my thighs, kissing his way up to my throbbing core. His eyes met mine as he breathed over top of my lace panties.

“Luca,” I moaned. “This is so inappropriate.”

He released a wicked laugh. “I’ll tell you what’s appropriate, Queen D.”

I rolled my head to the side and caught Bastian staring at me. Mortified, I turned away and found Damian focused on me. He licked his lips, heat flickering in his deep brown irises. Luca tugged on the strings of my panties, inching them down with all of his brothers watching us. Marcello looked as if he weren’t breathing behind the coffee mug in front of his mouth.

I attempted to sit up, and Luca pushed me back down. “Are you mine, Drea? This is your last chance. You know how much I hate waiting.”

His eyes glimmered with rage and something else, an emotion I could not place. Last night, he was fine. Today, he was out of control. What the hell happened from the time my head hit the pillow until now?

He slid two fingers inside me, and I gasped from the sudden pressure. “You can pretend I disgust you, but we both know you’re always wet for me.” Luca thrust harder, making me cry out as his fingers rubbed my inner walls. “Even when you can’t stand the sight of me, your pussy craves me.”

Luca held me down on the table with his big hand and sucked on my clit. My legs trembled as he licked me like I was his meal. I should have pushed him away, but it felt too good to make him stop.

Bastian rested his elbows on the table. His suit jacket slid up his arms, revealing his tattooed arms as he leaned forward. “Spread your legs wider,” he growled with a wicked look in his eyes.

As I felt all of their eyes on us, a wave of excitement shot down my arms. My cheeks heated, the warmth spreading down to my chest and swirling around in my stomach. I leaned back on my elbows and watched Luca work his magic between my thighs.

Luca stopped abruptly, his eyes on me. “Give me an answer.”

I kicked his chest with my heel. “Asshole, I was about to come.”

He cupped my sex. “You better remember this belongs to me while I’m gone. Mine, you got that?” He shot up from his chair, his cock so hard it looked like it was about to poke a hole through his pants. “Say it, Drea.”

“Why?” I fixed my panties and skirt and slid off the table. “I already told my grandfather I choose you.”

He gave me a satisfied smile before he pressed his lips to mine. I tasted myself on him as he palmed the back of my head. He kissed me like he wanted to fuck me on the table, and after what he’d just done, it wouldn’t have mattered. Our lips separated after a heated battle of wills, our tongues warring against the other.

“I want a real proposal,” I told him. “Get down on your knees and beg me to marry you.”

Luca lifted me off the table and lowered us into his chair, holding my back against his chest. “If that’s what you want…”

I nodded. “And don’t fuck it up this time.”

The butler popped his head into the room, his eyes on Luca as he cleared his throat. “Mr. Salvatore, Miss Laveau is here to see you.”

My jaw dropped. “As in Madeline Laveau?”

“Eat your toast,” Luca said with a bite to his tone. “You don’t want to be late for your appointment with the new director of the Franco Foundation.”

Give her dreams.

Sell her nightmares.

That was the Salvatore way.

Alex

My jaw dropped when I entered the ballroom. After leaving Haven without notice, I thought Madeline Laveau would never work with me again. She stood at the center of the room beneath a massive crystal chandelier, studying the art on the walls. Luca had insisted he speak to Madeline alone while I ate my breakfast, then he kissed me goodbye and left the house in a hurry.

“Madeline,” I squealed as I threw myself into her arms and smothered her with a bone-breaking hug.

Breathing in her flowery perfume, I drank her in, the heavenly Jo Malone scent filling my nostrils. She was in her early fifties. Her hair was a shade of dark brown that was almost black, her eyes the color of whiskey.

“I’m so sorry I left with no notice,” I muttered. “We were so close to finishing the chapel restoration. But my family…”

“I understand, Alex.” She held me at arm’s length. “No worries. I finished the chapel two days ago with the help of my new apprentice.”