Page 2 of Devil's Plaything

“Who the fuck is that?”

Griller shrugs but I’m already headed toward the stage. I stop and ask the bouncer what’s going on. I have every intention of marching up there, throwing her sexy ass over my shoulder and getting her off the stage.

“She wants to make her boyfriend jealous.”

I laugh, liking her spunk. It’s clear she’s not a stripper. Syra was a stripper. Those girls know how to work a pole. This girl has something else, though. This fire inside her. Either that or it’s been too long since I fucked someone.

Her gaze catches mine and her tongue snakes out to lick her lips. Instead of making her stop, I go find a seat, telling the fucker sitting front and center to beat it.

I fish out a hundred dollar bill from my wallet, holding it up for her. She looks over at a blonde guy as she dances her way to me. He must be the boyfriend. I stick the money between my lips and when she reaches me, I stand, slipping my fingers into the waistband of her panties before shoving the money down the front with my mouth. The scent of her sweet pussy is intoxicating.

Her fingers thread through my hair, gripping tightly until my scalp stings but she doesn’t push me away. Damn, she’s a firecracker.

My enjoyment comes to a halt when I’m roughly shoved away. Her boyfriend is fuming. Can’t say that I blame him but she’s way too much fucking woman for him. He throws a punch, busting my lip, and I smirk.

This is going to be fun.

4

Cleo

The guy grins up at me, seemingly amused by Shawn’s reaction to him practically burying his face in my panties. I definitely didn’t push him away, although I probably should have. He has a darkness to him. His eyes hold these secrets of anguish and destruction with a touch of mischief. I want to rip him open and explore the demons inside.

Am I crazy? Probably.

Shawn yells as the mystery man charges him, pummeling his face with punch after punch. I watch with admiration.

Yes, I’m absolutely crazy. Watching a man beat the shit out of my boyfriend shouldn’t be a turn on, but he’s making it look like art. Creating his own masterpiece in blood.

Security finally pulls him off and he stands over Shawn, his knuckles bloody and bruised. I don’t feel an ounce of remorse when Shawn groans and rolls over, spitting blood onto the floor.

Mystery man turns back to me and holds up his hand. I only hesitate a split second before I accept it, allowing him to help me off the stage and lead me away from the chaos he created.

He enters an underground room equipped with sports gaming statistics and televisions displaying multiple scoreboards. There are slot machines, roulette, blackjack, and poker tables. Not exactly the privacy I was expecting. He opens the door to a room and there are monitors on the walls. The men inside are watching all the illegal activity taking place.

“It’s time for your lunch break,” Mystery Man says, nodding toward the door.

Once the men are gone, he pulls me toward the table and drops to his knees. He arches an eyebrow, daring me to stop him as he tugs my panties to the floor, tossing them aside. I glance to the window, seeing all the people outside.

“How does it feel?” he asks, rising. He eases a bloodied finger inside me and I gasp. “How does it feel knowing those men are right there? What if they could see you? Watch you?”

Would I care? Would it turn me on? Jesus, I’m getting finger fucked by a stranger and all I want is more.

“Are you going to talk? Or are you going to fuck me?”

He chuckles and spins me around, roughly pushing me over the table. I like it rough. Always have. Peering back at him over my shoulder, I prop one knee onto the table and press against him. The tip of his dick eases inside me and with one deep thrust, he’s seated to the hilt. My pussy burns from stretching to accommodate him. He’s pierced and very large. He doesn’t allow my body time to adjust before he pulls out and slams back in again and again.

“Fuck yes! Harder, baby! Faster! Make me come on your cock!”

Fine. I like dirty talk, too. Why should the men have all the fun?

“You like that, bitch?” he asks, pulling my hair.

I laugh. “Give me all you got, big boy.”

5

Zeke