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Psycho Devils: Aran's Story Book 2(31)

Author:Jasmine Mas

Like really nervous.

Mentally, I was a slut. Physically, I was terrified of intimacy. Spiritually, I didn’t like men.

I was confused.

He kept his arms out, and his lush lips mouthed, “Sweetheart, why are you cold?” Blonde hair gleamed silky in the firelight and highlighted the golden shade of his skin.

I shook my head at him.

Too cold to argue.

I blinked.

Orion was kneeling in front of me. When had he climbed out of his bed?

He gently pulled open my arms.

I blinked.

I was pressed against a warm male chest, and arms were tight around me. Orion was sprawled on the carpet with me and my blanket cocoon tucked against him.

Fingers played with my curls.

I closed my eyes.

Snuggled deeper into the warmth and inhaled chocolate and raspberries. My mouth ached with the urge to bite the muscular golden chest I was resting against.

Instead of tasting him, I dipped my head lower so he couldn’t see my face and whispered, “I know you’re not really super sweet and nice.”

Images played in my mind: him snapping a man’s neck, fighting ungodly like a machine, holding my legs while his mates pushed me under the water in the bathhouse, whispering I was his toy after he kissed me.

I might act stupid, but I wasn’t dumb.

Warm muscles went hard as steel beneath me, and a long moment passed, but Orion didn’t dispute what I’d said.

Not that I’d thought he would.

He’d watched his mates force-feed me and choke me. He’d watched them punch me. Repeatedly. They called me their slave, and he said nothing.

You couldn’t be a bystander and still play the sweet hero.

It didn’t work that way.

His transgressions were piling up.

I shivered as I stared into his eyes with long dark lashes. He was so pretty that it almost hurt to look at him.

Even his beauty was scary.

Lately, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d told me he wanted me to be his toy. There were red flags, and then there were giant glowing signs that said “beware, this man is not good for you.”

Lush lips traced against my forehead.

I ignored the streaks of agonizing pain that exploded across my back.

Lips trailed gently across my eyelids.

Callused fingers tipped my chin, so I stared up into smoldering brown eyes.

His mouth pressed softly against mine.

A featherlight touch.

Orion breathed into my lips, “No, sweetheart, I’m not nice.”

I didn’t pull away and slap him across the face like I should have. I tipped my head back further and greedily pressed against him.

It made sense.

It was time to stop being self-aware, whatever I did was none of my business.

Unlike on the dance floor, Orion didn’t kiss me like he was trying to consume me. His lips were painstakingly gentle like he was trying to make a point. Like he was trying to show me he could be the good guy.

I tasted the lie.

“Who are you really?” I asked midkiss, then swallowed a moan as his tongue dragged across my mine.

Instead of explaining himself, Orion whispered, “I think you already know,” as he continued to melt my brain.

His cryptic words made my gut twist with premonition.

Because I did know, and I didn’t like it. Although, maybe I did? I couldn’t remember why I was supposed to avoid the villain.

Orion’s gentle fingers tightened, and he squeezed my chin so I couldn’t yank my head out of his gasp.

The sweet kiss turned ravenous. Angry.

Pleasure swirled with pain.

I wrenched my head out of his grip and turned my head to the side while I gasped for air. My breathing was uncomfortably loud in the quiet room. Even the flames had stopped screaming. The hearth crackled and popped beside us.

Loosening my grip on the tangle of blankets surrounding us, I scooted further away from Orion.

With another shaky breath, I glanced over at the quiet king.

His pretty features were sharp as glass, and Orion stared at me without blinking.

“That was a mistake,” I whispered. My gaze dropped to his glistening lips, and my voice sounded unsure as I asked, “Right?”

He moved in a blur.

Fingers were tangled in my curls, and I was yanked forward aggressively.

Orion smashed my face back against his.

Our teeth clicked together.

This time, he didn’t kiss nicely; he pressed his lips against mine with fevered intensity.

I blinked and found myself on my back in front of the fire with Orion pressed against me, pinning me to the ground.

Pleasure made my head swirl.

Pain made my back burn.

His hips ground against mine, creating the most delicious frictions.

For a long second, I lay still and enjoyed the overwhelming sensations. My head spun like I’d drunk a bottle of demon brew.

The haziness was worse than it had ever been.

I blinked.

Orion hovered on top of me and mouthed, “Sweetheart, my brothers may call you their slave.” He ground his hardness against my core with so much force that I saw stars. “But we both know who you belonged to first.”

Pain streaked down my back like I’d been shot.

Great. I was also a pervert.

I closed my eyes, then opened them.

“Enough,” I whispered between gasps as I tried to push him back.

His dark eyes were glazed with lust, and he kissed me harder.

I let him slam me back against the carpet.

Pretended his punishing kiss and the movement of his hips weren’t sending me close to catatonic pain.

I pretended I was a normal woman.

He was a normal man.

He gripped my ass as he pushed his hard length against me like he was trying to fuck me through our clothes.

“Mine,” he whispered as his tongue slammed deeper into my mouth.

Bursts of pain made me twitch.

“No.” I gasped. “Enough.”

He tangled his hands in my curls and pulled my head back so he could nip along my neck. His teeth grazed across my sensitive skin, then his lips sucked like he was trying to mark me. Permanently.

My vision went glassy.

The pleasure was so intense that the pain became unimaginable.

I took a deep breath.

Then lashed forward and slammed the heel of my palm into his throat. I jabbed him in the kidneys and pushed him off me.

I leaped to my feet and pulled the blankets around me like a cape as I stared down at his prone form.

He was disturbingly pretty, like a god of lust.

I fisted my hands.

For a long second, Orion lay on the ground and stared up at me. He smirked and purposefully didn’t move. Spread his legs wantonly and lifted his hips.

The invitation was clear.

“Get up,” I said forcefully like I wasn’t seconds away from collapsing.

The pleasure and pain were gone, and I was left with a horrible empty sensation.

I felt like a shell of myself.

Like someone else was speaking.

Orion smoothly got to his feet and pulled himself back to his full height. He had a few inches on me, and he used it.

“If you want there to be anything between us”—I gestured between us—“then you’re going to make yourself useful.”

Orion stared down at me silently. He didn’t blink.

I sighed, picked the brush off the floor where I’d thrown it, and dragged my fingers through my stupid curls as I asked, “Do you have any scissors?”

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