Page 13

"I want you to ruin me, Legion. Make me dirty."

"You're already ruined." The head of his cock breaches me, just an inch, just enough to make my whole body seize around nothing, and then he pulls back out, slow, deliberate, leaving me clenching on emptiness, aching for the fullness he's already teaching me to crave.

I whimper.

"You're stained. Have been since I took your cherry when you were fifteen years old."

He's still not fucking me proper and it's driving me mad with lust. "Legion, please⁠—"

"You like being the good little Ashby princess in the daylight." He grips my hair, wraps it once around his fist, not painful, just enough to feel owned. "And at night you like being my dirty girl. My sin. The thing that makes me forget I've got angels bleeding out on my back trying to keep me clean."

He finally pushes in, one long brutal inch at a time, forcing me open around him with a slowness that feels almost cruel, like he wants me to feel every ridge and vein of him claiming space inside me that no one else has ever touched.

My back arches off him, head falling against his shoulder, and I hear the low, guttural sound he makes against my throat—half growl, half prayer—as if being inside me again after all these years is its own kind of penance. The stretch burns sweet, right on the edge of too much, and my whole body goes electric.

"Tell me you like it. Tell me you like when the demon fucks you."

"I do." The confession rips out of me before I can soften it, before I can dress it up in something prettier. "I like it. I like your demon, Legion. Not the angel—God, I don't want the angel. I want the thing that scares everyone else."

He goes still inside me for one second, like he needs to hear it again.

"I think about the couch." My voice shakes but I don't stop. "The clubhouse. Everyone watching me on my knees for you, taking you down my throat. That was the best moment of my life." I push back against him, forcing him deeper, punishing us both. "Being filthy for you in front of forty men and not caring, because you were looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered in that whole room."

His hand tightens in my hair.

"I want that again," I whisper. "I want you to use me like that. Like I'm yours to show off. Like I'm proof."

He leans in, bites my shoulder. Not gentle, either. I gasp, then cry out. Not even caring that the staff might hear me. And in that same moment, he pulls almost all the way out, then slams forward again.

Hard. Brutally hard. Enough that the pain gets stuck in my throat.

But he only does it once and all I can manage to say is, "More. Give me more."

He bites me again. And then he's fucking me hard. Pulling all the way out, slamming back in. Over and over again.

I claw at the leather cushion, hips rocking back to meet him, chasing every inch he gives me.

"You're mine," he says, voice raw now, losing the poetry, just filth and truth tangled together. "This pussy is mine. This ass is mine. Every sin you've ever wanted to commit, you're gonna commit them with me."

"Yes." I'm sobbing it now, right on the edge, body shaking. "Yours. All of it. Please, Legion⁠—"

He pulls out.

I nearly lose my fucking mind. "What? Where are you going?"

But there's no time for questions, no time for begging him to stay buried inside me. He's already got a fistful of my hair, wrapping it around his knuckles like rope, and he's dragging me across the room with it.

Not careful, either. My knees nearly buckle trying to keep up, bare feet skidding over old wood floors that creak under both our weight.

He shoves his jeans down his thighs in one rough motion, the denim pooling at his knees, and drops himself into a massive wingback chair.

Then he hauls me into his lap like I don't weigh anything at all, like I'm something he owns and intends to use exactly how he wants, wherever he wants. My skirt rides up around my thighs, and I can feel how hard he still is beneath me, thick and insistent, refusing to let this end.

I gather up my dress, letting it fall over us, the fabric pooling like spilled cream over the hard lines of his thighs. Hiding his massive, hard cock from my own greedy eyes.

And I'm suddenly sorry for that.

I want to watch.