Conclave (Devil's Night 3.5)

by Penelope Douglas

  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.”

  And he gives me a hard squeeze, making me gasp. Another picture and another flash.

  I jerk, but instead of covering myself, I…

  I like it. Chills spread across my skin, and I want more. I want to be looked at.

  Alex snaps another picture, and I don’t know what she sees or what she’s focused on, but she’s watching us now as Samara and David go at it on the other side of the tanks, and Michael touches me. Where’s Lev? I still can’t see, so I don’t know.

  “We wouldn’t have made it through dinner, Michael,” I whisper, breathing in his skin. “You would’ve felt me and known—all I wanted was you. I wouldn’t have been able to wait anymore.”

  Michael takes my hand and guides two of my fingers down between my legs, sliding them inside of me. My pussy throbs, and I groan, needing so much more. He brings my hand back up and slips each finger into his mouth, sucking me off from them.

  The camera snaps again as Michael’s hot tongue glides slowly across my fingers. Samara cries out in the distance, coming.

  But then, suddenly, a hot breath falls across my face, and I hear heavy breathing. My heart stops for a moment. Who is that?

  “Do that again,” Lev suddenly whispers, and I hear him swallow. “Please.”

  I pant, my heart hammering.

  Oh, my God.

  Michael holds my face, kissing my cheek, jaw, and neck. “Do you trust me?” he asks.

  I…

  I nod.

  “Then why would you ever think the idea of children with any other woman wouldn’t make me sick?” he whispers, and I can hear the pain in his voice. “We will have kids. If you want them. But I will never not have you.” He shakes me. “Do you understand?”

  A sob lodges in my throat.

  “Do you understand?” he growls again. “A world where there is no us can’t happen.”

  We kiss, and I barely notice as Michael takes my hand and dips it down between my legs again. Oh, God. I start to cry, but I calm myself, the heartache breaking me, and I don’t know why. Why did I ever doubt him? I can live without a lot of things, but I can’t live without him. Why did I not trust the same from him?

  Pressing my two fingers inside me, he withdraws them and holds my hand up, not sucking on it, though.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks again.

  “Yes.”

  He holds my hand out, and I barely have a moment to register what’s happening before Lev grabs my hand. I gasp as the flash clicks again. Slowly, the wet heat of his mouth covers my finger, and my mouth falls open as I whimper, his tongue making every hair on my body stand on end. Michael kneads my breast, possessive and breathing hard in my ear as Lev licks my fingers clean, gently biting them.

  “I love watching you feel,” Michael says. “I love your face.”

  Lev sucks the other finger clean, long and slow, and I know he’s looking down at me. Michael squeezes me as he buries his whispers in my neck and grinds his cock under me.

  “I can’t follow the rules,” he says, “and with you, I don’t have to. I’m not alone. I can’t go back to being alone.” He hovers over my lips, our mouths open and hungry. “I can’t fucking breathe without my little monster.”

  Little Monster.

  I breathe out a half-laugh, half-cry. “I love you, Michael.” I kiss him. “I love you so much.”

  He dives into my mouth, and I grab hold of the armrests to steady myself, but I grab Lev’s wrists instead, his hands already wrapped around the arms of the chair. I don’t move my hands off him.

  “Do you trust me?” Michael breathes out.

  “Forever.”

  “Stand up, Lev,” Michael orders.

  And before I know what’s happening, he’s pushing me forward to sit up in his lap, Lev catching me before I go too far. Michael yanks at the back of my dress, and I clutch the waist of Lev’s jeans, the belt unfastened but still there. Michael rips the dress away from my body, more flashes going off from Alex’s camera, and only the black, le
ather belt remains around my waist.

  Lev’s fingers caress my face, and I’m spinning behind the blindfold. “God, she’s hot,” he whispers. “Can I touch her?”

  “No,” Michael tells him, and I hear his belt fall open and then his zipper.

  He grips my hips, jerks me back, and I moan, burying my face in Lev’s stomach as Michael spreads my legs wider and sinks deep inside me.

  I whimper, wrapping my arms around Lev for support. But I feel a bulge in his jeans and pull my head up.

  He laughs under his breath. “Sorry.”

  Michael’s cock stretches me, and I grip Lev’s belt as I start rolling my hips and fucking Michael slow. He squeezes my body, pulling me back into his cock, while I roll forward, pulling myself into Lev. Our pace quickens.

  Alex takes more shots, and I arch my back, feeling my hair drape down my skin.

  Samara pants and cries from somewhere beyond the tanks, and I moan, the light layer of sweat on my back cooling me as Michael jerks me back harder and faster.

  “Hold on to me,” Lev says, and I feel him lower to his knees as he puts my hands on his shoulders. I can’t see him, but he’s close, his breath falling on my breast.

  “Michael,” he says, struggling. “Please let me taste her again.”

  Another flash goes off as Lev’s mouth hovers over my nipple. I breathe hard, rocking back and forth into both men, my orgasm starting to crest already. I push off Lev into Michael and off of Michael, holding onto Lev.

  “Ugh, fuck, Rika,” Michael grunts, his fingers digging into my hips. He pumps his own up into me, and I can’t hold back anymore.

  “Yes,” I moan. More pictures snap.

  I bounce up and down on him, going deep and hard, my orgasm building and my moans and cries get louder. I rock back and forth, chasing it and then…it explodes, racing through my body, and I feel Michael grip the back of my hair, pulling my head back as he grunts and groans, Lev’s hot mouth damn-near boiling over where it hovers over my nipple.

  Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…

  I writhe a little, groaning as the pleasure courses. A trickle of sweat glides down my back, and Michael loosens and tightens his fist in my hair as he spills inside of me, and I try to catch my breath, noticing the flashes have stopped.

  God…

  God, that was so good. I pull down my blindfold and lean back, diving into Michael’s mouth again. Alex leans against one of the tanks, the camera dangling from her fingers as she watches us, photography forgotten.

  Michael’s still inside me, and I look between Alex and Lev, both of them looking at us like they can’t tear their eyes away.

  “Yo, Lev,” I hear David call. “She wants more. Come on.”

  Lev smiles at me, his eyes peeking out from under his black hair, and he rises, leaning over me.

  “At your service anytime, Miss Fane,” he whispers.

  His eyes flash to Michael, and then he turns and heads back to his own party.

  Alex opens the slot on her camera and pulls out the memory card. She comes over, handing it to us.

  “Look at them together some time,” she tells us, and I take it.

  She turns to head back, as well, but then she stops and looks over her shoulder at us. “And it’s probably good that you didn’t let Lev have that second taste.”

  I pinch my brows.

  “He would’ve sucked you off Michael,” she explains.

  My eyes go wide, and I think Michael stops breathing. She grins and leaves, disappearing beyond the tanks.

  It takes a moment to find my lungs, but all of a sudden, I break out in a quiet laugh.

  Oh, my God. What would Michael have done? The image floats through my mind, and I don’t hate it, actually. It might be incredible to see him experience something new for a change. Put the shoe on the other foot, so to speak?

  But Michael clamps his hand over my mouth and whispers in my ear. “Don’t even think about it,” he warns.

  I smile, rising from his lap, and he stands up, giving me his shirt, since my dress is ripped to shambles on the floor. I hear the camera click again as Samara goes for round three or four—I lost count—and Michael scoops up my dress and takes my hand, leading me out of the engine room.

  I can’t believe we just did that.

  But then, I can. We don’t have to hide around these people.

  We climb the steps and make our way to the owner’s deck, his warm hand gripping mine so tightly, like he’s afraid I’ll be lost.

  “The wedding is in one month,” he finally says, pulling me along.

  I hold his white Oxford closed around my body. A month? I start to protest. “Michael, I can’t…”

  “One month.” He turns to look at me. “Devil’s Night. We have until then to find Will and get him back.”

  He grips my hand, leading us both down the corridor to our cabin, and we pass Winter and Damon’s room, but all I can hear is muffled words and moans.

  A month? I’m thrilled to have a date, but…

  We’ll be paying through the roof to have everything ready in time.

  But still…

  A month. I smile, hugging his arm like I do when I’m feeling sixteen and smitten with him all over again.

  He swings open the door to the cabin, tossing his jacket and tie, and both of us head to the bathroom. I jump into the shower, him following me, and he holds me, kissing my forehead as the steam billows around us.

  And I don’t let go of him as he washes my hair and my body, barely blinking as I watch how good he loves me and how lucky we are.

  After we get out, we dry off, and I let my hair down as he passes me my toothbrush with paste already on it. “I’m sorry I said those things earlier in the lounge,” he tells me, the toothbrush in his mouth. “I was pissed. And intimidated. You weren’t talking to me, and my pride was shot.”

  I start brushing as he spits, and I meet his eyes in the mirror. “I was lying to you. I’m sorry, too.”

  Omission is lying, and it was hurting us.

  I finish up and rinse, patting my mouth dry with a hand towel. When I enter the room, he’s dressed in a pair of lounge pants and sitting by the windows, smoke from a cigar billowing into the air above his head. It’s so funny. Damon quits, and everyone else starts.

  I slip on some white panties and a matching cami, walking over and sliding into his lap. I throw my legs over the arm of his chair as he cradles me, and I rest my head on his shoulder, watching the black sea spread out before us.

  “No matter the money or the meetings or the mayor’s office, Michael,” I tell him, “I’ll always be perpetually twelve. Searching for Trevor’s older brother in every room I enter.”

  He never has to feel intimidated. Nothing is worth anything without him. I bury my head in his shoulder, his hold tightening around me.

  “And I’m not wearing white to the wedding,” I say sweetly.

  Just so we’re clear.

  He snorts, and I smile, looking up to see him taking another drag.

  “Yeah, me neither,” he teases.

  I run my hand up his beautiful chest, tracing the dips and muscles, and then circle my arms around his neck again and kiss him there. Nothing has really changed in all this time. His smell is like my matchboxes. It feels like Christmas and the Fourth of July together.

  “I love you.” I pause and then add, because I can’t help myself, “Mr. Fane.”

  “Oh, Jesus, fuck,” he grumbles and sits up. “I need a drink.”

  Huh? I hold tighter, damn-near falling off as he tries to get up from the chair.

  “Off me, now,” he orders. “I need a drink, Rika. Many drinks.”

  I slide to the floor, the carpet scraping against my ass. I wince. “Hey.”

  He pops the cigar in this mouth, shaking his head, and storms for the door.

  Rika Crist just doesn’t sound right. He’s going to lose this one.

  “We only have a weeks’ supply of food on this boat!” I yell as he opens the
door. “So, don’t wait too long to come to terms with this!”

  “Goodnight!” he barks. “I love you!”

  And he leaves, the door slamming rather hard for someone who says he can’t live without me.

  I stare after him, a slow laugh rolling through me.

  One month. I’m ready. I’m ready for it all.

  And I smile, excitement coursing through me as I reach for my notebook on the table to make notes for the wedding planner.

  THE END

  Nightfall will release in 2020.

  Please continue reading if you’d like to go back and revisit Iversen’s birth!

  *This scene takes place about ten months after the end of Kill Switch. About a year before Conclave.

  DAMON

  “You’re insane!” Bryce screamed, walking away but then turning back around and charging up to me again. “I’m going, and I’m not coming back this time!”

  ‘K, bye.

  I slid the notch of the hammer onto the nail head, pulling out the nail and removing his full morning of fuck-ups. The muscles in my arms were charged and hot, and if he didn’t fucking leave, I’d remove him myself.

  “I mean it, Damon!” he barked again, calling my bluff.

  I shot him a middle finger, not looking at him.

  I heard cans crash to the floor and guessed he’d probably kicked something as he stormed to the door.

  “Hey, what the hell?” I heard Kai burst in, the two-way door flapping as he charged in from the front office and into the warehouse where we were working. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s crazy,” Bryce said. “He can’t work with people!”

  I laughed under my breath.

  I heard Kai sigh, because he was as much at his wits’ end as I was.

  Like, seriously. No one here could think for themselves. You had to tell them every little goddamn thing, and God help you if you had to give them more than one instruction at a time, because their brains would fucking short out because they couldn’t remember all that AND remember to breathe at the same time.