Page 65 of Burn for the Devil
Pressing my finger to her lips I said, “Do not mention my murderous intentions toward you. If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
Samantha lowered her eyes, silent. “Are you going to keep manhandling me like a beast?”
“You love it when I ‘manhandle’ you.” Her cheeks reddened, as well as her aura. A low laugh escaped me. “You can’t hide your reactions to me, I see everything.” She turned even redder.
Her conflict shone across her face while she tried to deny herself and her desires, attempting to fit into the mold she believed was hers to fill.
“That’s really not fair.”
“Maybe you can’t see my reactions to you, but I know you can feel them, when you let yourself.”
34
Samantha
Ramone wasn’t wrong, I could most certainly feel his reactions toward me. As time had gone on, it’d gotten stronger. What I didn’t tell him was that at that art exhibition so long ago, I’d felt something. I hadn’t been able to put a finger on it at the time, but I’d been overwhelmed with a sensation that something hadchanged. The feeling was so strong that it stayed with me, and I’d never forgotten it.
It was hard to excuse Ramone’s mistreatment of me. I understood his logic, to a degree, but that didn’t make it right. He’d said he was the devil—or a devil? Did it even matter? His behavior was in line with such a moniker.
Sitting up, I asked, “Do you really believe you’re a devil? You act like one.”
Annoyance lit his gaze before he smirked at my observation. “There’s a reason there’s a common saying about the devil’s greatest trick. No one ever believes in me.” He almost seemed sad over the words he spoke. “It's not a matter of belief, it's the fact that I am. The devil, notadevil. Well, when my father steps down I’ll be him.”
The correct response to what he’d just said eluded me. “You need therapy.”
“I know,” he replied, arching a brow. “It wouldn’t go well, in any form or fashion. But not for that, there’s no need of counseling for my identity. Perhaps if you met my father, you’d believe me. Pray that you don’t and maybe someone will answer your prayers.”
I chuckled at his dismissive instructions for prayer. My family went to church when I was younger, but it was just for show and nothing I was interested in. “I can’t imagine therapy going good when you claim you’re the devil.”
“If you don’t believe me, then what do you think I am? What do you think has been happening to you?” Ramone laced his fingers through mine, sending a shiver up my spine.
He was too irresistible, and I found myself sliding closer to him, so our shoulders touched. He bent and kissed the top of my head. His question slithered around in my mind. It almost made more sense to believe him than not.
“I don’t know. It's just weird.” He pulled my hand onto his lap. “Do you have a Facebook page?” Supernatural creatures wouldn’t do something like that, use social media, I guessed. It was such a random thought, I felt compelled to ask.
“What?” Ramone looked horrified.
“Social media. It's all the rage. I was just wondering if the devil has an online presence. I mean, everything else is weird so why wouldn’t you?”
“No,” he snapped. “What a waste of time. I have more important things to do than send people pictures of myself.”
I laughed. “That’s not exactly what it is but if you own such a massive company, why wouldn’t you at least have Twitter? For your company? It’s good for business.”
He still looked appalled. “I do know what it is, and yes, my company uses it. I, however, personally don’t. It's a great source of useful energy.”
“You just said it's a waste of time?”
Ramone appeared pensive for a moment. “My kind feed off energy; the internet is the main source although there are others. I don’t want to get into it right now.”
He rolled onto his side, taking me in his arms so we were face to face. I let him, despite my earlier protestations and complaints about his behavior. It galled me, but he was right when he said I wanted him. Before I could ask him what he was talking about, his lips molded to mine.
Ramone moved me, pulling me underneath him without breaking our kiss and then began tracing my thigh with his hand. All I could do was focus on the pleasure he was giving me, with his smooth touch and the soft feel of his lips against mine. The air around us felt charged with electricity, as if it had a density or weight and was a living, breathing thing.
He thrust his tongue inside my mouth as he slid his hand up my side, to finally wrap around my throat. He shifted his body away, and I shook, the separation instigating a full body ache as if I’d lost a vital piece of myself. I know I whimpered over being left wanting, and he brought himself right back, partially undressed.
“You can taste it, right?” Ramone asked, his lips lightly brushing mine. “Can you taste how much I want you, how much I need you? My violence and darkness for you?”
Shivering, I shoved my mouth against his as he pulled my leggings down with his free hand. My heart raced while he dragged the material from my body, one of my hands clawing his shoulder when he bent my legs, finally freeing me. My hand slid away to unbutton his shirt, with his full lips kissing me everywhere he could reach. My shoulders, my collarbone, mycheeks. His sensual assault left my mind blank, unable to drag my previous concerns back to the forefront.