Luck of the Devil (A Raven Ruin Novel Book 3)

by Marie James

  “I’m just trying to play catch up.”

  “How did your run go? Did you get everything to New York safely?”

  His eyes narrow as he lowers his coffee cup to the breakfast bar with a snap. We don’t talk business. Hell, I’m not even supposed to know anything about business, but there are members with flappy jaws and club whores with even looser lips.

  “Okay,” he concedes, failing to hide the twitch in his lips. “I’ve asked enough questions.”

  He stops me when I try to walk around him. “You need to think before you do something stupid.”

  Looking from his grip on my arm and back up to him twice isn’t enough of a hint to make him release me. TJ has never been physically assaultive to me, but I know what he’s capable of. I leave my arm in his grip and wait for him to speak again. When he doesn’t, I cave.

  “I’m not on drugs.”

  “I’m not talking about drugs, and you damn well know it.”

  “I’m not seeing the vet anymore,” I confess, answering his earlier question with hopes of distracting him.

  “I know.”

  “I’m not working there anymore either.”

  “I know that, too.”

  His grip loosens but he doesn’t release me completely.

  “I’m just trying to be happy,” I whisper. “I just want to be happy.”

  His eyes soften, his throat working on a swallow, and I tense waiting for him to issue the command he knows I can’t abide by.

  He doesn’t say another word, merely leans in and kisses my temple before letting me go and leaving the house.

  On shaky legs, I walk back upstairs and silently close my bedroom door. TJ was right. Lynch, telling from the noises coming from his room, wasn’t able to just go upstairs and crash. For over an hour, I distract myself with music and a stupid game on my phone until silence fills the house once more. For good measure, I wait another thirty minutes to see if Zoe is going to come out of her room. When she doesn’t, I tug on some clothes, and as stealthily as possible, slide out of my room.

  It’s broad daylight, and any other day I wouldn’t be concerned about walking around at nine in the morning, but my ulterior plans can only come to fruition if I don’t run into anyone.

  Betting on everyone still being asleep after such a wild night of drinking and partying, I make my way out of my house and slip through the back door of the clubhouse.

  Other than a muffled cough coming from one of the rooms, I don’t hear a sound as I creep down the long hallway and pull my keycard out. When the light turns green on the top of the box, I could kiss Virus for providing me with a card that grants me access everywhere. I knew the second he handed me the card last night what I’d use it for.

  Standing stock still in the doorway, I take a long moment to appreciate the serene look on Briar’s relaxed face. Hearing the cough again, I step further in the room and close the door. He doesn’t move. His arms are stretched over his head, and one leg is pulled up. Even in sleep, the bulge in his boxers is formidable, terrifying even, but fear isn’t ruling me today.

  The thrill of being here with him heightens my senses. Sounds are sharper, the scent of his earthy cologne fills my nostrils, and I can see the tiny dust motes floating in the sliver of light the blinds allow. Knowing I made it this far and didn’t get caught makes me want to test my luck even further.

  Quietly, I cross the room and begin to tug free Briar’s belt from his discarded jeans. My head snaps in his direction when a handful of change falls from his pocket and clinks to the floor. His lips close as he swallows, but he makes no move to open his eyes or roll over.

  He must be exhausted because he doesn’t flinch or even try to swat me away when I lean over him and wrap his belt around his wrists and attach them to the wooden slat of the headboard.

  Unable to be this close and not touch him, I lean in and brush my lips against his.

  It’s now that his eyes flutter open. Rather than shock and anger, a slow, sexy smile spreads his lips.

  “Hey, baby,” he whispers. Confusion marks his brow when he realizes his arms are restricted.

  “Shhh.” I press my finger to his lips before running my hand down his eyelids. “You’re dreaming.”

  “Molly?”

  “Dreaming,” I repeat. I know, from the last time we were together, that keeping his eyes closed helps him control the monster he believes lies in wait inside of him. I know better. This man isn’t evil, and in the bottom of my soul, I know he’d never hurt me.

  He settles, eyes staying closed. My entire body is shaking when I lie half on him and half on the bed. I didn’t think things through this far, certain he was going to make me leave the second he realized I was here. I’d expected him to break the bed and insist I go back home, not compliance.

  “I missed you,” he says as his head turns in my direction, moaning deep in his throat when my mouth meets his.

  The kiss is languid, soft. There’s no urgency or desperation between us. We explore each other’s mouths like we have a lifetime to do just this. The false sense of security is the best we can hope for.

  He grunts his displeasure when I pull my mouth from his, but lifts his chin higher when I lick the scruff on his jaw.

  “Molly, please,” is his response when I reposition myself so I’m straddling his thighs.

  My mouth never leaves his skin as I whisper against his throat. “Keep dreaming.”

  “Cover my eyes.”

  “Keep them closed,” I challenge.

  “I can’t. Molly, cover my eyes.”

  The insistence in his voice helps me to climb off of the bed. The man wouldn’t be caught wearing a scarf or a necktie, so my creativity is challenged when I go to dig through his closet.

  “There’s a mask in my bedside table.”

  Turning back to face him, I’m not surprised to find his ice-blue stare on me. With a little distance, he’s able to control himself better. He’s perfected the art of watching me since I came home from school, and I wonder if the thickness behind the fabric of his boxers was a problem he dealt with while keeping his eyes on me in the clubhouse. Knowing he doesn’t have as much control as he pretends, that just the sight of me causes his body to respond this way is just another boost to my self-esteem. He wants me. He’s always wanted me.

  “And why do you have a mask?” I tease as I walk to his bedside once again.

  “To wear with all the hookers I fuck.” My eyes narrow on him, hating that he’s even joking about stuff like that.

  Before opening the bedside drawer, I twist his exposed nipple just enough to get a reaction out of him. “You better be thinking about me when you sleep with them.”

  “Ouch!” he hisses when I twist harder. “I’ll get you back for that.”

  Releasing him to get the mask, I feel his eyes on me when I bend over more than I need to. Coolness from the room creeps down the gap created between my shirt and my flesh with the action.

  Without another word, I place the mask over his eyes, and before climbing back in bed with him, I run my finger down his rippling chest to the thickness hidden by only one thin layer of clothing.

  “Molly,” he warns, “don’t.”

  And you know me. I’ve never been very good at following instructions.

  Chapter 28

  Briar

  “Molly?”

  Her hand disappears altogether, and I can sense her still beside me, but her not touching me is more torture than when she had her hands on me seconds ago.

  “What, baby?” I love the pet name out of her mouth, even better that it’s being whispered against my lips.

  “Kiss me,” I urge, needing her minty tongue brushing over mine again.

  “Oh, I’m going to kiss you, alright.”

  Her lips find and soothe the nipple she twisted earlier. I acted offended, threatened retaliation, but the truth is that violent little tweak made me rock hard, something I didn’t think possible since waking to her hovering over me. I
’ve been leaking for her ever since, the dampness a cold reminder that biology and need aren’t always controllable.

  Her tongue swirling and then sucking me into her mouth is like a cattle prod to my spine, a bolt of electricity strong enough to light up the sky even when it’s competing with the sun. Her warm breath escapes her nose, tickling the dusting of hair on my chest and I feel her everywhere, from the top of my messy head to the soles of my tired feet.

  The exhaustion I felt when I opened my eyes to find her here dissipated instantly.

  Warm, wet kisses forge a trail down my skin, but I don’t anticipate her making it very far. A clubwhore I’d fully expect to go for the goods, but Molly, being a virgin, will be more cautious, more in need of asking questions than just diving back in. I both love and hate the notion in equal measures.

  “Mmm.” She’s purring against the skin on my upper abs, and my cock jolts at being ignored, jumping against my lower stomach as if it’s reaching for her, urging her to take notice. The one quick brush of her hand down my length earlier will never be enough, but at the same time, I know the flimsy job she did tying my wrists will keep us from doing anything today. I can’t put her in danger, but I think I love her a little more with the way she’s letting this play out. She’s doing her best to tend to my needs, to attempt to keep both of us safe.

  She understands from the last time we were granted time together that seeing her is the fastest way to wake my demons and in turn the quickest way to lose control and hurt her.

  The cold air on the tip of my wet cock is the equivalent of getting dropped in the middle of Lake Erie in the winter. A full-body shiver works its way over every inch of my skin, leaving goose bumps behind in its wake.

  “What are you doing?” I hiss, eyes wide open, yet still blinded by the mask.

  “Making you more comfortable.” My hips surge upward when her soft lips brush my thigh as her hands work the fabric of my boxers down my legs. This can’t happen, but God save me, I lift a little higher to aid the removal.

  “I was fucking comfortable,” I somehow manage even when I feel the rush of her warm breath over my sack. “Molly, please don’t. It’s too much.”

  “It’s a dream,” she whispers. “Do you want to wake up?”

  Torn, I don’t know what to tell her. I know if I tell her to stop, she would, but fuck if just the thought of her lips on me doesn’t make my spine tingle and my balls draw up higher than they ever have before.

  “We can just make out.” My cock jerks again at the suggestion.

  She slides her body up mine, just the thin fabric of her dress brushing over my length on the way up. The friction is both heaven-sent and burns like the fires of Hell.

  “Goddamn,” I groan as my hips rotate, looking for more pressure.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “You.”

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “You.” I’m breathless, completely at her mercy, which amazingly is somehow keeping the devil inside me quiet for the time being, but it’s the knowledge that he won’t stay at rest for long that worries me.

  “You want me to take my panties off? Slide my pussy down your thick cock?”

  Jesus, and I thought her calling me baby got me revved up.

  “Please don’t.” I swallow thickly. “Couldn’t handle that.”

  “You’re tied up,” she reminds me, and I don’t miss the increased pressure as she settles her body a little more on top of me. “You’re my captive today.”

  “You know better than that,” I warn.

  “Let’s test the theory.”

  “Molly?”

  She’s gone, lifting her body off of mine in the flash of a second.

  I nearly come out of my skin when her tongue licks from my tight nuts to the sensitive head of my cock.

  “Jesus, fuck.”

  “Mmm,” she purrs again before swiping over the slit. “Your taste.”

  Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come.

  “I didn’t think—” She licks at me again. “Wow.”

  “Please,” I groan, and right now I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m asking for. Torn between give me more, and stop right now, I just dig my teeth into my bottom lip until I taste blood and grip the wooden slats of the headboard until my knuckles ache.

  “Do you want to wake up?” she whispers against my hot flesh.

  “Never,” I moan.

  “Is this dream different from your other ones?”

  That she knows something I’ve never even voiced makes me love her even more. My sexual deviances don’t stop when I pass out. They continue, growing increasingly violent and devious with each REM cycle, something she somehow knows. The women in my dreams are faceless, but even in slumber, I know she’s the one beneath me begging to be released, pleading with me not to hurt her. A better man would be disgusted by that. I wish I were a better man.

  “Yes,” I answer, unsure of how much time has passed since she asked her question.

  “How?” she prods before her salacious tongue swipes at me again.

  I swallow, throat so dry words are nearly impossible. “My dreams are violent.”

  “Mmm,” she hums against me.

  “They’re so fucking filthy, they should be illegal.” Hell, they are illegal if brought to life.

  “Filthy sounds nice.”

  I nearly knock her to the floor when she sucks one of my nuts into her mouth, but she’s resilient and must have predicted my reaction because her hands are clamped on my thighs, fingers digging deliciously into my skin.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I pant. “Please.”

  “Please more?” Releasing me, she wastes no time sucking the other into her mouth. “Or please stop?”

  Unable to respond, I concentrate on controlling my breathing.

  “Or please this?”

  With swiftness my jumbled brain can’t understand, her mouth is on me, sliding down my length. She doesn’t go far, her inexperience and my thickness preventing that from happening, but it’s enough. Fuck, is it enough. My hips jerk without warning, and the gagging sound as she’s choked by me is paradise in a fucking bottle. It’s my filthy fantasy come to life, my dreams made a reality.

  TJ is into blood, reveling in the spill of someone’s life rushing over his hands, but the breathless sounds Molly is making with my cock buried in her throat is my devious need.

  Unable to control her body’s reaction to my invasion, she continues to gag, even though I can hear the harsh pulls of breath from her nose. She’s uncomfortable, but not in any danger. That’s my reasoning. That’s the lie I tell myself so I can continue to bury myself in her as deep as her body will allow.

  The penetrating pain from her fingernails in my legs isn’t enough to make me stop. Subconsciously, I know she can pull away at any time. She’s on top after all. I’m not restraining her or forcing her. She doesn’t move to get away. If anything, she bends lower and gives me exactly what I crave.

  My toes clench, seizing up to the point of pain, but I don’t warn her. I don’t speak one fucking word as my hips punch up as high as I can manage, and I spill into her mouth. The gagging continues, carrying a sputtering edge that nearly makes me spew even more.

  Her once gripping fingers are now pushing against me. The sting she leaves behind is calming, eye-opening. Wiggling my head, I force the eye mask from my face. Expecting her to be looking at me in disgust, I’m confused by the wicked smile playing on her swollen lips. When her tongue snakes out to lick at the cum dripping on her chin, I’m fucking lost, realizing that no matter what punishment might come from Lynch for invading his sister like I just did, it was worth every fucking second.

  “Clean me up,” I command, not giving her one second to think twice about what we’ve done. She woke this damn beast, and I’ll be damned if she’s going to be protected from him now.

  “W-what?” Her hand brushes her lips, and I hate that she’s wiping me away.

  “Clean me. No
,” I hiss when she makes a move to get off the bed. “With your mouth, Molly.”

  Chapter 29

  Molly

  “M-my mouth?” I stammer. The task doesn’t seem all that complicated, and with the taste of him fading on my tongue, I’m desperate for more. His eyes on me are the difference. With them covered, I could pretend I was in control, pretend I was the one with all the power. That’s no longer the case.

  A slow, lewd head nod is his only response. I sense the challenge, the daring edge to his request. He’s testing me, trying to determine if there’s even a chance for us, if I’m strong enough to handle a man like him. I knew he’d push my boundaries, even though I have no idea what they are exactly. His needs and desires are way past the conventional line of sexual experience, and damn if I don’t want to follow him into the darkness.

  “Now.”

  I’m bending over, my tongue swiping at what I couldn’t handle when he exploded in a flash. He’s still hard; still a menacing threat in size, and that knowledge is like a knife to my gut.

  Tears are pooling in my eyes when I’m done fulfilling his command. I may not have had sex before, but I know men don’t stay hard and thick after they’ve orgasmed. Only when they’re satisfied and replete, do they soften. His erection hasn’t flagged, so I know how much of a disappointment I must be for him.

  “I’ll go,” I mutter as I move to climb off the bed.

  “Molly?”

  This is what I get for being a dumb little girl trying to take care of a grown man.

  I’m caught with a gripping hand around my small wrist before I can get far.

  “How did—” Looking down at my arm first, my eyes jolt up to the discarded belt still hanging loosely around the headboard slats.

  “Did you really think I couldn’t get loose?”

  I avoid his blue gaze, especially with the humor lighting his tone. I’m a joke. My attempt to please him has backfired. His need to protect me will come next. I just know it.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back home,” I mutter, attempting to pull myself free from his grasp.

  “Do you really think I’m going to let you walk out of here unsatisfied?”