Devilish - A Demon Stepbrother Romance (10 page)

BOOK: Devilish - A Demon Stepbrother Romance
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              And then with that same potent urgency, he began to thrust into me, hard and deep. I wrapped my legs around his hips, welcoming each brutal plunge. I felt stretched and filled. My pleasure was fringed with echoes of pain but the pain only heightened each filling plunge.

 

              As we kissed, I wanted more. I wanted my last moments to feel realer than real. I wanted to feel more alive than I ever had before. I let my tongue slide against his before biting down hard on his lower lip.

 

              Liam reared back in surprise. He stared at me with wide eyes before shock was replaced with a molten desire that made him look more demon than human. I felt my heart nearly bruise my ribs in its thumping rhythm. But I was ready. I wanted more.

 

              With a growl, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them hard above my head with one hand. With his other hand, he wrapped around my throat, forcing my head to be still as he took my mouth, controlling every plunge of his tongue. I grunted against his lips as he thrust in deeper and deeper into me.

 

              “I will have all of you,” he whispered against my lips.

 

              “Then take me,” I whispered back. “And take me hard.”

 

              His hand grabbed at the center of my bra and with one hard yank, he ripped the material off. The bands snapped against my shoulders as they gave way to his strength.

 

              My full breasts now were free in the air. Keeping my wrists pinned above my head, it naturally made my back arch upwards, as if offering my breasts in sacrifice to the lustful demon.

 

              He squeezed my right breast hard. So hard I actually cried out as pain flooded my body. But it only made my pussy wetter as I clenched tighter around his hard cock.

 

              I knew there’d be bruises there in a few hours but I didn’t care. The endorphins that flooded me made me crave more. He lowered his head and gently grabbed my nipple with his teeth. I sucked in a breath, nervous at the sharpness I felt around the sensitive little nub.

 

              As he plunged in deep, he bit down hard enough to make me cry out again. Pain and pleasure intertwined within me. All I felt were the raw sensations. I could hardly feel where my legs and arms started and ended. All I felt was desire, ecstasy, and luscious pain.

 

              “Look at me,” I heard Liam demand from above me. I looked up, feeling so overwhelmed by his body, his cock, his entire
being.
“Look at me, you brave fool! Look at me as I take you!”

 

              And I did. I let myself drown in his fathomless green eyes as his cock filled me again and again. My body rose to meet each thrust, my pleasure peaking higher and higher.              

 

              I felt completely pinned under his gaze. I wanted to look away, to close my eyes as I gave in completely to his body but I couldn’t. Instead, I bared myself to him as he plunged into my most intimate space.

 

              “Oh god!” I cried out, knowing the end was near. The end was very near.

 

              Liam gripped my wrists tighter. “Keep your eyes on me!” he warned. And as he gave me one more powerful plunge, I came apart in his arms. Whatever string of tense pleasure had been inside me, snapped with a twang. Ecstasy exploded across my body, making my toes and fingers numb with pleasure.

 

              Liam roared above me as he found his own release, his own end. I felt his cock twitch within me and I clenched against him, not wanting the moment to end.

 

But it didn’t end. With our eyes locked onto each other, the moment seemed to continue forever, even as our bodies surrendered to its final release.

Chapter Sixteen

 

              Even though it was dark, I could see quite clearly because of the moonlight shining down across the beach. The waves crashed behind us in slow even rhythms.

 

              I looked behind me and saw Liam close at hand. We had come up to the Hamptons earlier to look over Ron Lawson’s home and to find our point of entry. It was much smaller than I had pictured it to be.

 

              The beautiful clapboard house was set right against the ocean and was covered in lovely willow trees that swayed in the ocean breeze. After careful assessment, Liam had figured that coming in through the beach would be the easiest access point. And I had to agree. It would also give us more privacy from neighbors since we wouldn’t be traipsing about on Lawson’s more visible side of his property.

 

              My body hummed as I stepped quietly up the steps of his back porch that led directly out onto the sand. I was ready. More than ready. I felt so much adrenaline that my skin actually seemed to be buzzing across my body.

 

              Reaching the door, I motioned for Liam. He gave me a small pouch with several picks. I wasn’t an expert in door picking but I figured I could manage. I had done it a time or two when I was younger in college. I remembered quite fondly when in college, my friends and I had broken into empty lecture halls to drink and smoke.

 

              I prayed those skills hadn’t left me yet.

 

              Sliding in the pick, I carefully maneuvered it, hooking it under the bolt. I played with it a little, sliding it back and forth until I heard the soft
click.
Slowly, I opened the door.

 

              I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

              Before stepping out onto the beach, Liam had spotted the old school surveillance system Lawson had wrapped his house in. I was surprised that a billionaire would stick such outdated methods of security but seeing how small and quaint the house was, I realized Lawson must be a member of the old school.

 

              With a pocketknife, Liam had cut the wires of the old security system, disabling it. But even still, I had been nervous to open the door, afraid we might have missed maybe a back up security system.

 

              But the door opened with no problems.

 

              We were in the clear.

 

              Quietly, we entered the house. Liam shut the door silently behind us.

 

              Looking around, we were in some kind of secondary family room. It was small and still decorated with old paintings by Tricia Lawson. I spotted a staircase at the far end of the room.

 

              Nodding over at Liam, we carefully made our way over, stepping lightly.

 

              An energy was running through both of us. I knew Liam wasn’t afraid. Hardly. He was as stoic and steady as ever. But he felt that same pulsing energy I did. The energy of the end.

 

              Together, we climbed the stairs, mindful of any creaks or noise.

 

              Stepping up onto the main floor, we found ourselves in the main living room. All the lights were off but even in the dimness, we could still make out the comfortable yet expensive looking furniture. To my right was the large open kitchen with a stocked island in the middle.

 

              I looked around but saw nobody. I knew Lawson was here. I’d confirmed his schedule and had also seen him entering the home during our initial surveillance of his house.

 

              I crept around towards the kitchen and saw a hallway that led towards a small bath and an office.

 

              Both were empty.

 

              The house was so silent. Even if it’s just one man in a house, I had figured there would be some noise, whether it was the sound of a TV playing somewhere or the rheumatic coughs of an old man.

 

              But there was nothing.

 

              I turned around and saw Liam standing by the kitchen. His body was completely still. I could tell he was listening for noise as well. He leaned back and looked down the opposite side of the room. Seeing something, he quickly made a motion for me.

 

              I hurried over, mindful to still step lightly. The house had clearly been expertly renovated but there was no removing the age. And old houses made noise.

 

              Reaching Liam, I saw him point towards the opposite end of the room, towards the front entrance of the house. There was a staircase to the third level.

 

              I looked up at him. Third level probably meant only bedrooms. That was a narrow space. If anything
were
to happen, a narrow space would be hard to fight free from.

 

              I saw the same though process work through Liam’s head. Without saying a word, he put a hand to the small of my back and guided me towards the stairs.

 

              “Go up,” he whispered quietly. “In one minute, I’ll follow.”

 

              I nodded, ready to take my first step when he grabbed my arm and whispered against my ear, “If you see
anything
off, come straight back down.”

 

              I nodded again, feeling my heart thudding so loud I was sure all of the Hamptons could hear it.

 

              Gently, I took my first step. I didn’t look back but felt a bit more secure knowing Liam was there at the bottom of the stairs, standing guard. No one would surprise attack me from behind.

 

              I just had to worry about what was there in the front.

 

              Swiftly but quietly, I worked my way up the stairs. On the third floor landing, there were three doors to my right and one on the left. All the doors were shut and based on how close the doors were to each other, I was sure they were just guestrooms.

 

              Down straight ahead was a set of double doors. One door was slightly ajar. And from the sliver of an opening, I saw a faint glow of light.

 

              I paused, waiting. Listening. Again, no noise. No sounds.

 

              Was he sleeping? Even still, there was something eerie about this silence. There was something
off.
I felt a chill crawl down my back but I shook it off. This was just nerves. Nerves trying to psych me out of what I wanted to do.

 

              Taking my courage into both hands, I carefully walked down the hallway. I felt the cool press of my gun, taken from my dad’s safe, digging into my lower back. I felt the steeliness of my knife tucked inside my boot.

 

              I would not let my nerves rob me of my moment. I had entered into a demonic bargain, been shot at, shot, and then revived to get to this moment. Not to mention, initially being murdered in the first place.

 

              I would not let revenge slip away from me when I was so close.

 

              Just outside the double doors, I pulled out my gun and held it behind my back. My plan was to shoot him just to disable him from running or attacking me. Then I would finish him with my knife. He had not let anyone in my family leave this life easily. I would return the favor.

 

              Taking in a deep breath, I pushed through the door with force, letting it swing wide open and bang into the wall, my gun outstretched and pointed straight ahead.

 

              But with adrenaline still pumping loudly in my ears, all I saw was a large empty king size bed in a huge master bedroom. Off to the side, near sweeping bay windows, was a leather armchair.

 

              Seated in the chair was Ron Lawson, eyes closed and head tilted as if asleep.

 

              But how could he not have awoken at the sound of her entrance? The door had slammed against the wall with a loud thud.

 

              Gun still aimed at him, I looked him over. He was wearing a pair of khakis and an old sweater. I had seen him wearing that same outfit earlier in the day. So he hadn’t changed for bed yet.

 

              I was standing literally only a few feet away from him. He could reach out and touch me, if he wanted to. But his head was still tilted to the side, as if slumbering.

 

              I cocked the gun back, the small click echoing in the room.

 

              Lawson still remained motionless.

 

              Feeling my heart race, I gave a quick kick to his leg.

 

              Lawson didn’t even jerk. He remained completely still. I kicked again, harder.

 

              This time his head fell forward against his chest but nothing more. I nearly jumped at this movement but recovered quickly.

 

              What the hell was going on?

 

              Keeping my gun poised and my hand ready to fire, I carefully leaned forward and pushed Lawson’s head back.

 

              The head moved back with no resistance. Eyes still remained closed. But I jerked my hand away.

 

              His forehead had felt cold.

 

              I looked over him carefully. No blood, no wounds, nothing. He was whole and visibly fine. What was going on here?

 

              Carefully, I leaned in closer, quite sure this was some kind of elaborate ruse to lure me in. I put a finger under his nose.

 

              Liam rushed into the room. “What’s going on?” he asked. I’m sure he was confused by the lack of gunshots or cries for mercy.

 

              I looked up, my finger still under Lawson’s nose.

 

              “He’s dead,” I said softly.

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