Caught in the Devil's Snare

by Dani Matthews

  This is so wicked.

  The sight of my legs open, Devlin between them with his fingers inside me is a vision I want permanently seared into my mind. He carefully pulls his fingers out, and then slowly inserts them again, watching to see if I have any discomfort. The sensation causes my breath to hitch, and my hips immediately thrust towards him, wanting more.

  He smiles approvingly and begins to move his fingers inside me, thrusting them gently. I rock my hips in time to his strokes. My eyelashes flutter closed, and I drop back onto the pillow as my back arches. I think I’m going to…

  Suddenly, he curls his fingers upwards and rubs a spot inside me that has my hips shooting off the bed as the orgasm hits me full force. I push myself onto his fingers, riding out wave after wave of pleasure.

  When I’m finally limp, I open my eyes and find Devlin hovering over me. He gives me sexy smile and leans down to capture my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it reignites the desire once more. His tongue strokes mine, and his hand slips between us, fingers sliding inside me once more. I eagerly push into his hand, ready for what we both have been yearning for.

  Devlin seems satisfied with my response, and he breaks the kiss and eases back onto his haunches. I follow his hands with my eyes and watch as he opens a condom and rolls it over his length.

  I want to reach out and touch him, to explore him, but I think that’ll have to wait until another time. I’m right, because he’s quickly maneuvering above me, parting my thighs. His eyes lock on mine. “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod and clutch his shoulders.

  At the first probe, I stay still and wait. As he eases further in, I can feel my channel beginning to stretch. It’s a little uncomfortable, but not too bad. Devlin pauses, and then he pushes forward to the hilt, causing me a flash of pain that has me wincing. Immediately, his lips press to my temple as his body completely stills above mine.

  I slowly breathe in and out, allowing the pain to gradually fade. When I peer up at him, I find him watching me with a furrowed brow. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  I’m not. The fullness is starting to feel good, and I give him a smile and tentatively roll my hips. His eyes widen a fraction, and then I can feel his groan vibrating through his chest.

  I wrap my arms tightly around him, and he holds me close as his hips began to move. He pulls out almost entirely before leisurely sliding back in. Wanting to feel his hips working against mine, I lower my hands to his taut butt. He carefully eases in and out of my wetness, and it’s bringing me to a higher plane of desire.

  Desperation is beginning to set in, though, and I thrust my hips a little more, anxious for him to quicken his pace.

  He immediately gives me what I want, his hips thrusting into mine with more firmness. The sensation is more than I ever could have imagined, and I savor the feel of his thickness sliding along my channel. I close my eyes and give myself to the intense need building inside.

  Devlin continues pumping in and out of me, and I pant in his arms—unable to catch a full breath as I’m so close to going over the edge. Then, my lower body spasms as I explode into a soul-shuddering orgasm that has my nails digging into Devlin’s skin. As I ride it out, I’m aware of Devlin thrusting harder than before, and then his body is shuddering above mine.

  Twenty-five

  Devlin

  She looks like an angel.

  I’d woken a short time ago to find Charli still asleep, and since then, I’ve been enjoying the sight. Her long, blonde hair is soft and shiny against the darkness of the bedsheets. She’s on her back, one arm flung up over her head as her bare breasts peek out just above where the sheet is resting on her body. The tips are pale pink and relaxed.

  My eyes roam over the globes before sliding back up to her face. She has the most amazing creamy skin. It’s flawless. Her lashes lie on the curve of her cheeks, and her lips are slightly parted as she slowly breathes in and out.

  I’ve been lying on my side, head propped on my hand, staring at her. My dick was hard when I’d woken, and it’s still painfully engorged, but I refuse to do anything about it. First, if I leave to go jack off, I’m afraid she might be awake when I come back. For now, I’m just enjoying the moment before reality can creep back up on us. Secondly, after taking her virginity last night, she’s likely sore, and the last thing I’m going to do is make a move on her as soon as she wakes. My dick will survive without.

  The memory of how tight she’d felt around me does nothing to ease the ache. Fuck. I’ve never felt anything so damn intense in my life, and I know last night could never be called just sex. I loved her body with everything that I am. I think I’m now beginning to understand the concept of ‘making love’ versus ‘fucking.’

  Charli’s mine in every way possible. She can continue running all she wants, but I’ll still be here when she decides she’s ready.

  She’s beginning to stir, and I watch as her eyelashes flutter a few times before her body shifts. Her lashes sweep upwards. When she sees me peering down at her, she blinks a few times before an adorable hint of red creeps up her cheeks.

  I grin. “Morning.”

  A crinkle appears between her delicate eyebrows, and I watch as emotion flickers in her gaze. She’s remembering the fire last night, and then everything that had happened between us. Much to my relief, her eyes soften. There’s no hint of regret.

  She needs more from me, though. I know she does. Just as I need her to let me in further. She’ll never fully open to me if I don’t give her a reason to. The idea of laying myself out bare, my fucking heart on my sleeve, leaves a bitter taste of uncertainty in my mouth. However, if I’m ever going to change Charli’s mind about me, I need to swallow my pride.

  “I used to think I was unlovable,” I say slowly, giving her time to focus on my speaking.

  She blinks, and her eyes search mine.

  With my free hand, I reach over and tenderly brush a strand of hair away from her shoulder. “I never knew love. I already told you that I had a long slew of nannies, and my father never showed much interest in me until I began to reach my teens. Everything I was taught had nothing to do with embracing emotion, and instead, it was all about suppressing it.” I drop my eyes and focus on her neck, watching the delicate pulse in her throat. “I was aware of the concept of love, thanks in part to the movies that I’d manage to sneak in when no one was around. But I didn’t understand it. When I became aware of how different my upbringing was to the average American, a part of me yearned for it.” My eyes lift back to hers, and she’s watching my face avidly. “I thought I was unlovable. Maybe that was why my nannies never cared, or why my father never said anything positive to me. I grew up thinking there was something about me that made people incapable of caring, but when I grew into adulthood, I realized it was more than that. A person can’t care about someone unless they’re let in, and I was taught to remain closed-off, to never allow anyone close emotionally. The idea of letting someone get that close and then experiencing the kind of rejection my father dealt me time and time again made me hate the idea of connecting with anyone—especially a woman. No one’s touched me here,” I say, touching my chest, “until you entered my life.”

  The expression on her face is one of compassion. There’s no hint of pity, just an understanding that she knows how hard it is for me to speak of my childhood—to confess my vulnerability to her. It’s the earnest compassion that urges me to continue.

  “We have something that I don’t want to ignore any further. I’ll wait for you if that’s what you want, but I can’t not acknowledge what I’m feeling. I don’t want to be the man I was before I met you, I want to be the one that I’ve become since you entered my life.” I hold her gaze and say, “If there’s anything I can do to make you comfortable with what I do, I’ll do it,” I say steadily. “I can’t walk away fully, that would be a death sentence. This life, it’s mine whether I want it or not. I was born into it, and the only way out of it is death. However, I control how the or
ganization works, and I can make adjustments. For you, I would do what needs to be done to keep you in my life—if you want to be with me, Charli.”

  She’s silent as she stares at me, and I wait with bated breath as she visibly pulls together her thoughts. Emotions swirl in her eyes, and she bites her lip before she shifts and begins to sit up. She draws the sheet to her breasts, and her brow crinkles.

  I sit up as well, but I remain silent, waiting to see how she’ll respond. I tell myself that if she’s still choosing to walk away, I’ll need to respect her decision and try to understand it from her perspective instead of focusing on the rejection.

  That’s when it dawns on me that she doesn’t have her phone. I frown and look around the bedroom, trying to recall where I’d left my cell. I think it’s in the bathroom.

  I turn back to her, and she looks at me, expecting me to say something. “I’ll go grab my phone,” I tell her.

  Quick as lightening, her small hand darts out and grabs my forearm, stopping me from going anywhere. “No,” she says softly.

  The sound of her voice has me stilling, and something in my chest builds.

  She hesitates and says, “I can speak. It…just might be…stilted. It’s been a while,” she says carefully in a lilting monotone voice that is choppy and yet throaty. Yes, she sounds different, but it’s a tone that I am immediately enamored with.

  I can’t prevent the grin that spreads across my face. “You have a beautiful voice, Charli.”

  Her nose wrinkles.

  “You don’t think so?” I question.

  She shrugs a bare shoulder. “The other kids…they would pick on me. I quit using my voice because it was easier. I’ve been…practicing with Keagan. It’s easier to sign than try to recall the correct…articulations. Then there’s the volume…and when to pause. It’s difficult. My own fault, though. I should have…kept at it instead of folding beneath their taunts,” she says slowly, careful to pronounce the best that she can.

  “Screw the other kids. Our generation today is terrible when it pertains to anyone being different.” I touch her chin, tilting her face upwards so I can peer into her gaze. “I love different,” I say without hesitation.

  Her green eyes widen.

  Shit. Did I just tell her I love her? The idea throws me, and suddenly, I feel strange and uncertain. My initial reaction is to move away from her and try to sort out what I’d just blurted. Charli, though, as intuitive as she is, frames my face with her soft hands before I can put the physical distance between us.

  She moves closer, her eyes burning into mine. “Stop the…trafficking,” she says simply. She doesn’t comment on what I’d blurted, and I relax as I focus on what she’d just said.

  “Stop the trafficking?” I echo.

  She nods, her eyes earnest as they look into mine intently. “Drugs are everywhere. I don’t…like it, but if you don’t sell them, someone else will. Taking people from their lives, I can’t…accept that. Stop, and I will give us a chance,” she says softly.

  Holy fuck. Stop the trafficking and Charli will stay in my life? “Done,” I say swiftly.

  She blinks, and her forehead creases. “Really?”

  I turn my face into her left hand that’s still cradling my cheek, and I press a soft kiss to the center of her palm. “Just like that,” I confirm. “I promise,” I add, not wanting her to doubt me.

  She hesitates. “It’s that easy?”

  “I’m the boss,” I remind.

  A look of awe spreads across her beautiful features. “Okay.”

  “We have a lot to sort out,” I say, referring to the fact that she’s back to being homeless.

  Her face immediately crumples, and she looks saddened. “It’s…all gone.”

  I nod in confirmation. “It is, but thankfully it’s just things.”

  She looks oddly lost. “I know but…”

  “You worked hard for those things. They were yours,” I state, getting an inkling of how she’s feeling.

  She nods in agreement.

  “Why don’t we go make breakfast, and afterwards, we’ll discuss where your head’s at and how you want to move forward,” I suggest.

  Twenty-six

  Charli

  I can’t deny that I’m enjoying Devlin’s company this morning. It’s been entertaining watching him make breakfast while I sit at the table across from the kitchen, sipping orange juice. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of black lounge pants as he makes us scrambled eggs and bacon. He’d warned me he’s not much of a cook, but he’d been determined to try instead of ordering from somewhere.

  My eyes roam his body as he holds the frying pan above the plates and begins dividing the eggs. He’s so damn sexy. I’m tempted to go over and touch him, but I know that if I do, it’ll start something that I may not be able to finish. I’m sore this morning, and I’m thinking it would be wise to take a break before engaging in further sex.

  I also like the fact that his eyes have been lingering on me. I’m dressed in one of his business shirts and nothing else—but he makes no move to pressure me into anything.

  I’m distracted from my thoughts as he walks over and sets a plate in front of me. His hair is messy, and whiskers line his jaw. My fingers itch to touch his face, but instead, I give him a smile of thanks.

  He looks adorable as his expression shifts to a hint of uncertainty. “If it tastes like shit, I’ll send someone to grab something edible.”

  I shake my head, giving him a rueful look. I’d rather eat dirt than tell him his cooking is bad. I turn my attention to my plate and pick up my fork as Devlin takes a seat across from me. My first bite of the eggs tells me they’re indeed edible, but they lack much seasoning. I don’t mind.

  When my eyes lift in his direction, I find him setting his fork down as he looks at me intently, a hint of amusement lurking in his gaze. I arch an eyebrow questioningly.

  “You’re not going to say it, are you?” he asks.

  He’s referring to the bland eggs. I hold his gaze and determinedly scoop more into my mouth.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not going to second guess it.” He rises to his feet and walks to the cupboards, pulling out containers of salt and pepper. When he retakes his seat, he shakes them over his eggs before sliding them towards me.

  I lightly sprinkle a little salt and pepper on mine, and then take a bite of the crispy bacon. It’s a little overcooked, but I love it crispy.

  We both eat in silence, and occasionally, I peer out the window. The morning sunlight is filtering through the many windows, and I’m enjoying its warmth and the view.

  When we’re finished, Devlin insists on clearing the table and loading the dishwasher. He then refills my glass, and I rise to my feet to walk back into the main room while he wipes down the table.

  I stare out at Manhattan, entranced by the view. It’s amazing, and I don’t think it will ever lose its allure the more that I look upon it. I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing there, but when I eventually pull my gaze from the windows, I find Devlin sitting on one of the curving sofas. He looks relaxed and content to watch me.

  Reality is beginning to creep back up on me, and I move to sit near him. Thankfully, I’m not scheduled to work today, so I can focus on sorting out my living situation and buying all the things I’ll need just to get by the next few days. When I recall my wallet likely burned in the fire, my shoulders slump. Crap.

  Devlin moves closer to me, his eyes sharply alert. “Talk to me.”

  I give him a wan smile, disappointed over having to start all over. “I have so much to…replace. The phone, my ID…”

  He reaches for my hand, and his warm fingers slide between mine, his eyes assuring me that it’ll all be taken care of. “We’ll take care of it today. It won’t be as difficult as you think. We’ll also get you a new phone and some clothes.”

  My eyes harden. “I don’t want to rely on you…Devlin,” I say, saying his name for th
e first time.

  He’s silent as he observes my expression. “I know you want your independence, but I also would like the chance to help you in any way that I can.” He regards me with keen interest. “I was hoping you’d stay here. With me.”

  Stay here? I gaze at him, taken aback by his offer before I scan the room, taking in the classy décor. This place, it’s not me. I know I can’t achieve everything I set my mind to, but living with Devlin would make me feel like I’m settling and giving up some of the control I have over my life. When I turn back to Devlin, I see his lips begin moving.

  “I want you to have your independence. I mean it, Charli. Do what you need to do during the day, but I would love for you to come back to me at night,” he says with steady eyes.

  When he puts it like that, my heart wants to melt. I struggle to remain unwavering, but it’s difficult. I wave a hand towards the room. “I don’t…belong here. It’s not me.” I frown, struggling to figure out how to explain what I’m feeling.

  “Why isn’t it you?” he presses, his expression confused.

  “It’s…” I search for the correct word. “It’s…impersonal. Disconnected. Not a place that I could call home.” I watch to see if he understands what I’m trying to say.

  He looks momentarily perplexed. His eyes lift, and he looks around the room as if seeing it through new eyes. He turns back to me. “I had a designer decorate it, and I haven’t added anything personal because I’ve never cared to. If you want to remove everything and turn it into a place you’d be comfortable in, I’m fine with that. Hire a decorator or pick everything yourself,” he says, his expression placid over the entire idea.

  “You didn’t like the things I bought for the apartment,” I sputter, recalling his look of horror when he’d first seen the floral sofa.

  He shrugs, still unperturbed over the idea of me taking over his home. “So I’ll learn to love it.”