Spin Devil (5 page)

Him. Sebastian Russo. The meanest son of a bitch who ever
lived.

Chapter Four

Sebastian groaned at the feel of her body, plush, pliant and
shivering beneath him. This was all he’d wanted throughout his college years
and every single minute of his life afterward, and though it might have been a
rough way to go about it, hell—he was drunk, he was horny and he wanted
her
.
Cleo.

Her sweet pink cunt tasted like heaven to his lips. The
juices spilling from her vagina all but flowed into his mouth and her muscles
tightened wantonly around his tongue as he buried it deep inside her.

Growling, he cupped her buttocks and lifted her hips higher
to have better access to that sweet, tight pussy he’d so often ached to taste.
She rewarded him with a soft little yelp. The sound reverberated in his insides
like a penance, sending a jolt of red-hot lightning to his dick.

She no longer fought him. She was now as limp and pliant as
a rag doll, and yet she was hot to the touch, sweaty with the heat of her
desire. It had been useless for her to fight him anymore, just as it had been
useless for him to fight this inexplicable madness of wanting her.

He’d thought four years would be enough to get her image out
of his mind but instead he’d been tortured, nearly gone crazy over not being
able to look at her, even if just to tease and torment her.

It bugged him—
she
bugged him. At every gathering
during their college years she’d hardly looked at him, hardly recognized his
presence, as if he were unworthy of her precious attentions. He’d sworn to
himself he’d seduce her, only to realize she was immune to him, pushing his
hand back when it strayed, jerking her eyes away when he looked at her with
lust and thinking he was mocking her whenever he spoke one of his very rare,
very sparse compliments.

All she’d done was ignore him. Brutally so. And like a brat
wanting Mommy to look his way, he’d misbehaved, wanting her to turn, to look,
even if just to wrinkle her perfect button nose at him. And yet not even to do
that
would she spare him a glance.

Even though he knew with painful certainty that she
absolutely, irrefutably hated his guts, she still wanted him. By God, she did.
He’d be damned if he’d misinterpreted the dewy-eyed look she’d been sending his
way tonight. It was a look filled with lust and years and years of wanting. He
recognized a goddamned look like that when he saw one. And by God, he’d fuck
her. He’d fuck her whether she wanted him to or not. He was way past caring
now. All he cared about was possessing, marking her as his own, and if wanting
her like this made him the devil himself, so be it.

He heard sounds behind him—a man’s low growl, a woman’s soft
whimpering—and he imagined his friends were already screwing their drunken
brains out. He didn’t give a shit who was fucking who and how. All he gave a
damn about was the little piece of ass he had in his hands and the cunt he was
eating from, which was about the best-tasting pussy he’d had in his life. Her
flavor was spicy, and it was hot and scorching on his tongue, making it tingle
after a taste.

He lifted his face and looked into her eyes. Those eerie doe
eyes were clouded with lust and her breasts heaved heavily with every breath
she took. She had the biggest breasts he’d ever seen. Round and full, with
small, perky nipples in such a soft shade of pink they almost blended with her
skin. She’d been a fool to think she could hide those tits from him with those
ridiculous loose dresses she wore. She’d all but made them look bigger,
saucier…more enticing.

He ran his hands along her hips and up to cup that tiny
little waist. Her skin was as soft as churned butter, and how that little waist
could properly carry the weight of her breasts was beyond him. When his hands
cupped those huge, melon-sized fruits he growled with delight. They filled his
hands, overflowed his fingers, and her puckered nipples brushed against his
palms, begging for attention.

He moved up to draw one perky crest into his mouth and
sucked it full force, making her whimper. He sank his teeth into her skin and
bit her fiercely while he sucked. He wanted to mark those breasts as
his
,
and if he drew blood, so be it. She cried out, sinking her fingers into his
hair, pulling him closer.

He didn’t need more encouragement than that.

Snarling, he squeezed her other breast with his hand until
she whimpered, her nipple taut and hard and ready. Shifting his attention, he
drew the hard little pebble into his mouth and sank his teeth around it while
he sucked. She screamed beneath him, a scream filled with pain and pleasure and
loud enough to echo in the sky.

Sebastian felt drugged and out of control and for some
unholy, sick reason, he needed to hear her whimper and moan, harder, louder, be
it from pleasure or pain or both. God knows he, too, was feeling both. It was
painful to touch her, painful to have watched others touch her, brutally so.

“You shouldn’t have let Jason touch you,” he breathed as he
gazed down at her with hot, lustful eyes. Her lips were wet and swollen, and
the amber specks in her chocolate-brown eyes glimmered like gold in the night.

“He asked me nicer than you did,” she said breathlessly.

Grinding his teeth, he squeezed her breasts so hard they
could have exploded in his hands. “I’ve taken all the shit from you I can take.
Now you’re going to admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you’re a fucking little bitch and all you’ve wanted is
for me to fuck you.”

“No.”

“Say it, damn you!”

“What do you want me to say?” she screamed in desperation.

Growling, he moved forward so that his face was a breath
from hers. “I want you to say you want this. I want you to admit you want
me
.”

She was panting hard beneath him, her eyes fevered and her
lips trembling as she gazed up at him. The rise and fall of her breasts drew
his eyes and he gazed down at them in ownership, at the red marks his mouth had
left and the slightly indented marks of his teeth. Her creamy skin gleamed with
a fine sheen of sweat and he ached to lick it…lick her everywhere.

There were so many things he wanted to do to her. And yet he
couldn’t stand the pressure in his cock, the pain in his balls. If he couldn’t
think straight, it was because every drop of blood in his body was settled
between his legs and pulsing wildly in his cock. He ached to bury it deep
inside her and fuck her until he bled from the effort.

“Please, Bas…” she whispered softly.

Pulling back slightly, he scowled down at her, furious at
the way the plea in her voice tugged at his insides. He’d be damned before he
let that tiny, pleading little voice of hers get to him. He’d be damned before
she convinced him to switch from fucking her to cuddling before a fireplace and
eating bonbons while they chatted the night away. All he wanted to do, all he’d
ever
wanted to do, was take her, claim her, fuck her. He was not
stopping now, not even if that voice yanked at his heartstrings and strangled
him with them. “I’m not stopping, Cleo. Whether you like it or not, you’re mine
tonight.”

“You’re…hurting me,” she whimpered softly.

“I’m not even touching you.”

She shook her head, specks of runaway sand glittering in her
hair. “You’re
killing
me.”

The hell he was. He framed her face with his hands and
looked deep into her heavy-lidded gaze. “No. You’re killing
me
.”

Cleo clutched him tightly, fisting her hands in the thick
mass of his hair. “
Sebastian
…”

He heard the need in her voice, low and clear and beautiful,
and it robbed him of his breath completely.

There was a deathly silence while he slowly raked her face
with his eyes, attempting to memorize those sweet, wholesome features which
now, sweaty and hot and needy, were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

“You want me.” It was a whispered statement, delivered with
more confidence than he felt. His heartbeat seemed to completely stop as he
waited for her answer.

It was just a breath but he heard it. Heard it while he
watched her plush pink lips form the words he’d waited years to hear.

“God help me, I do.”

He’d dreamed of this moment. He’d dreamed of prim and proper
Miss Cleo begging him to fuck her. In his wildest dreams she’d yelled, “Screw
me, fuck me, you bastard, please!” but he supposed he would settle for
anything. As long as it meant screwing, fucking, mating—her.

His lips crushed hers with shattering force, sending
shudders all through her body in shock waves. A soft little whimper escaped her
lips but the sound was barely audible as he muffled it with his mouth.

Behind them someone was coming, and coming hard, their
shouts high and mighty as they reached their climax.

The sounds invigorated Sebastian, inviting him to seek his
own release, release inside
her
, inside this woman—this reluctant little
bitch. Feeling her pliant, soft body beneath his and the warmth of her skin
seared him, burned his soul like a stake right through the heart.

He kissed her fiercely while a finger ambled down her
stomach until it sank into the glorious place it sought—the tight, wet sheath
of her pussy. She was swollen with need and the walls of her cunt clenched
around his finger and sucked it in like a magnet. He was sweating profusely and
every gleaming inch of his body was tense and burning for her. He wanted to
sink his cock inside her and spill himself, mark her as his, but at the same
time he didn’t want this to end. He wanted her now—now and always.

“You feel so tight, like a little virgin, Cleo.”

The words were breathed against her lips as he slid another
finger inside her, stretching her walls to accommodate both. She was tight,
slippery. Jerking his wrist, he screwed both fingers inside until she arched
her back and moaned in pleasure. The feel of her nipples brushing against his
naked chest tore a curse from his lips.

Cleo shifted her hips, wanting his hardness to fill her, but
he caught her pelvis with his hand and stilled her. If she’d inched her pussy
even a hair closer to his cock he’d be buried deep inside her and spilling his
semen within seconds, and he wanted to take his time. He’d already waited a
lifetime for this moment. He’d be damned if he didn’t make it last.

She exceeded even his wildest, wettest dreams—which had been
plentiful, and all of them starring little Miss Cleo. Soft, pliant and womanly,
with a body fit for a porn star, a body that, just looking at it, made a man
want to jerk off and come. This was Cleo, and she was moaning under him, her
tongue kissing his mouth like a hungry—no,
starved
—little slut who
hadn’t had an orgasm in years.

Sebastian would be more than happy to oblige. He’d make her
come like she’d never, ever come before. While he was going to come everywhere,
make sure every inch of her plush little body had
his
mark. So that if
he never had the fortune of touching her again, she would at least remember
this forever—remember
him
forever.

Chapter Five

He touched her slowly, his fingers sliding in and out of her
pussy with a mind-jerking lack of haste that drove her mad. She protested with
a weak whimper and lifted her hips to meet his movements. Wanting more, needing
more.

“You’re begging for it, aren’t you, Cleo?” His voice was
gruff and thick with lust. He dragged his body downward, took her knees and
bent them until her legs were completely folded, her knees touching her
shoulders, her sex wet and pink and open to him. She panicked, tried to
straighten her legs but he halted her.

“Let me look at you, Cleo. Don’t move.” His eyes glazed and
burned with desire when he spread the labia of her sex open with two fingers
and stared right into her.

She bucked with shamefulness, feeling exposed and
vulnerable, but he shushed her with softly spoken, unintelligible words, gently
keeping the folds open as he bent down to lick her. He drank her up as if he
were in the middle of the desert and she were an oasis. Thirsty, starved, like
a man gone mad.

Her toes curled with tension when a long, probing finger
sank slowly into the tight back entrance of her ass. Cleo jerked from the
intrusion, suddenly realizing the helpless, pitiful yelping sounds
reverberating in the air were coming from her.

The combination of his finger—now slowly stroking the
puckered entrance of her ass in gentle, teasing circles—and the merciless
thrusts of his tongue on her oozing sex could have been enough to kill her. But
she held on for dear, dear life, wanting and needing to find out what other
things—bad things, good things,
any
things—he planned to do to her. It
was heaven, it was hell and it was all she wanted. All she’d ever wanted. Him.
Loving her. Touching her. Kissing her.

Fucking her.

He groaned low and deep in his throat, indicating with that
painfully sensual sound that the excruciating pleasure Cleo felt in receiving
was similar to what he experienced in giving. An ache to please him, to see his
face straining with desire like it had been when Haley licked him as he took Luella
from behind, burned inside her like a death wish.

Suddenly switching places, his tongue traveled lower to kiss
the rosette of her ass while one of the fingers that had kept her swollen labia
parted now slid deeply inside her. One finger then became two, and two became
three, until his fingers spread her cunt in a way she thought would make her
burst. A tension unlike any other coiled in the pit of her being and though she
thought it impossible, the tension tightened further at each thrust, each touch,
each kiss. She writhed as he slowly kissed and licked her ass, first teasing
her with his lips then using his powerful, wet tongue.