The Devil’s Keepsake by Somme Sketcher
Poppy
“The owner of a brothel in St. Petersburg gave me that because I was such a good customer.”
I jump out of my skin, smearing red paint across the doll’s lips and up to her cheek. “Jesus Christ,” I yelp, turning around to see Lorcan standing in the doorway of the workroom. “Okay, two things. First, how can you be so large and so quiet? It defies the laws of physics. Second, I really didn’t want to know that story.”
No smile. He’s just staring at me, lips tight and eyes dark. I glance back down at the Russian Nesting Doll I’m working on. Her ruby-red lips are smeared. “Third thing—now she looks like the Joker.”
“She’s worthless.”
I don’t care if she was bought for fifty cents at a flea market, I set her down carefully on the table and close the gap between Lorcan and I.
It’s been two days since I’ve seen him. Since he allowed me to ask one question. Since that one question raised a million more. Also, two days since he took the phone call that made him dart out of the museum with a haunting parting gift. If anything happens to me, China Doll…
I can’t pretend like I’m not relieved to see him.
“What happened? Is everything okay?”
He blinks, swallows, and when the corners of his mouth turn upwards, it barely resembles a smile. Then he curls his fingers around the belt loops of my jeans and pulls me towards him, groin first. “Just kiss me.”
Not a question, and today, I don’t mind. Lorcan engulfs me in his strong arms, brushing his soft lips against mine and makes the world melt away. “God, you’re confusing,” I gasp, coming up for air in a daze.
Only when he answers do I realize I said that out loud. “How so?”
“One minute we’re dancing in the rain, the next you’re telling me it’s easier if I hate you,” I mutter, fingering the collar of his cashmere sweater to avoid his hypnotic gaze. “Now you’re all over me again like a rash. I don’t know where I stand with you.”
He drags a thumb over my cheekbone and plants a kiss on the burning trail it leaves behind. “Then let’s not stand.” In one swift motion, he picks me up and brings me into the bedroom and lowers me onto the bed. “Better?” he murmurs, climbing on top of me, pushing his thighs against either side of my hips.
It’s instinctive to tilt my hips towards the bulge in his jeans. He has a magnetic pull stronger than gravity; impossible to resist. But instead of reacting to my not-so-subtle grinding, he looks down at me and gently brushes the hair off my face. He studies me with an intensity that burns every inch of my skin. But at the same time, it seems like his mind is so far away.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Studying you.”
“Why?”
I see the muscle in his jaw contract. “So, I can memorize every inch of your beautiful face.”
His words melt my heart and claw at my throat at the same time. “Why?” The air feels suffocatingly thick between us. I try to lighten it so I can breathe again. “You planning on letting me go?”
A trace of a smile. “I don’t think you want to be let go, China Doll.”
He sinks down next to me, tugging me into the warm space between his arms. “In fact,” he moans into my hair, curling his hand around the nape of my neck and tangling his legs around mine. “I think you want to stay here forever.”
My eyes close at the touch of his hard chest against my face. I breathe in his oaky scent. It used to haunt me; bring me right back to the cold, cavernous space of the church all those years ago. Now, I crave it. Especially when it isn’t underpinned by the scent of bitter liquor.
I think you want to stay here forever.His words roll around my head as my eyes grow heavy. I want to stay here forever. Here, like this. His limbs entwined with mine, his heart pounding against my cheek. Because here is like a vacuum. It’s devoid of reality. An escape from the cold, hard truth of how we got here.
We stay in the vacuum until the sun lowers in the sky and nighttime floods the room. I don’t know if he’s awake; his breathing is rhythmic against the top of my head, his heartbeat strong and consistent. But I know what will happen when darkness comes. A kiss on my forehead, then the bed, floorboards, and door will creak, and I’ll be left alone.
Because the Devil never stays.
Suddenly, his deep voice cuts through the darkness. It’s low and loaded with an emotion I can’t put my finger on. “I don’t want to fuck you tonight, China Doll.”
Disappointment. “That’s okay,” I whisper back.
His hand finds my chin and tilts it up to him. When his lips meet mine, it feels different. They don’t claim me. They kiss me. Soft and slow and sensual. Then, they move away from my lips to my neck, covering every inch of my throat and jaw with small butterfly kisses. Earlier he studied every inch of me with his wolf-like eyes. Now, it’s like he’s trying to taste every inch of me too.
I block out the sudden sadness in my chest and close my eyes, focusing on the sensation of his mouth covering my body. We’re still in the vacuum, and whatever happened before—or after—this moment, it doesn’t matter right now. His hands roam my body—now, he’s feeling every inch of me—running along the dip of my hip and back up to the swell of my chest. His hands are caring and kind as he unbuttons my jeans and slides down my thighs like they are made of silk. They are light and fast when he unhooks my bra and drops it on the floor by the bed.
I thought he wasn’t going to fuck me tonight.
With the same soft touch, he spreads my knees apart and climbs between me. “You’re so special, do you know that?” He murmurs, tracing my lips with his finger. The lust claws at my voice box, and all I can manage is a strangled sigh. “You’re so special to me, China Doll.” His fingers slip inside my mouth and I suck them, exactly like I’ve sucked his cock. He moans when I run my tongue up the length of his finger, and lightly flick the tip. Then, he pulls them out and dips the same hand between my legs, running his wet fingers along the length of my already-wet slit, stopping at my clit to rub slow, sensual circles around it.
“Please,” I gasp, my body responding to his touch like a jolt of electricity.
“Please?” he growls into my neck.
“Fuck me,” I moan, pushing my hips up to the bulge in his pants. Before I can reach down and free him from his zipper myself, he pins both my hands above my head, holding my wrists in one huge palm.
I let out a sigh of relief when I hear the sound of his zipper. Feel the warm tip of his cock against the mouth of my pussy.
He stretches me open, slow and steady, sliding me onto the length of his cock. “Yes,” I gasp, running my hands over every muscle in his back. They contract and release like the complex lock of an antique vault.
“Kiss me, China Doll,” he says, his lips against mine again.
We fall into a rhythm. His tongue massaging mine with soft, sweet kisses, his cock sliding in and out of me, building the friction in my pussy. When my breathing becomes shallow, he pushes his lips harder against mine, picking up the pace of his thrusting. “Cum for me, baby,” he groans into my lips. His hard body is flush against mine, not an inch of air between us. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
His words send me over the edge, a wave of orgasm washing over me like a tsunami. “Good girl,” he murmurs, shifting his weight so he can stroke my forehead.
I collapse under the weight of him, gasping. Once my heart rate slows a little, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull his cock deeper into my now-sensitive pussy. We stay mouth to mouth, chest to chest, as I slowly grind against him, tilting my hips up and pushing them down into the bed. Just enough movement to work his shaft.
“Fuck,” he groans into my mouth, before nestling his head in between my shoulder and neck. His breathing is ragged and I wrap my arms around his back, crushing myself with the weight of his heavy body. I run my hands through his thick curls, grinding my hips over his shaft, enjoying his quickening heartbeat against mine.
“I want you to come for me too,” I whisper into the curve of his ear. “I want you to fill me up and claim me. I’m yours, Lorcan Quinn. Show me I’m yours.”
His body tightens against mine, and an animalistic groan escapes his lips. I join him, moaning with pleasure at the warm sensation filling up my pussy.
We lay like this for a while, with nothing but our heavy breathing and sweat between us. My legs wrapped around his waist, his head on my chest.
As I stare up into the darkness of the ceiling, I realize that the Devil didn’t break his word: I’m not going to fuck you, China Doll.
He didn’t. He made love to me.
* * *Lorcan’s already awake when the cold sunlight creeps through the window. He’s staring at me with intensity as last night as I use his bicep as a pillow.
I blink the blurriness away. “You stayed.”
“I did.”
There’s that sadness in my chest again. I can almost taste the impending doom.
Why does it feel like I’m teetering on the edge of something bigger and scarier than the Devil himself?
He lands a firm kiss on my forehead and the bed shifts around his weight as he uncurls himself from me. I watch as he tugs on his jeans and sweater.
“Do what you want today, China Doll,” he says quietly, looking out the window. “No door will be locked for you today.”
I prop myself up on the pillows and frown. “You mean under the watchful eye of your big burly guards though, right?”
He flashes a sad smile. “They are for your own protection.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Where are you going?”
“Why do you ask when you know I won’t tell you?”
I bury myself under the covers, wanting to stay in the vacuum for a little longer. Light floods back into my hiding space as he slowly peels back the bedding.
“Hey,” he says with a voice as soft as his kisses last night.
I peek out from under my pretend vacuum, locking eyes with him.
“I don’t hate you either.”
My heart hitches in my chest. Before I can respond, he puts his finger to my lips, then quickly replaces it with a long, hard kiss.
It’s impossible not to dissolve under his touch. It clears my head and any worry or fear I have disappears in a puff of smoke.
He pins me with one more lingering stare, amber eyes swirling with darkness, then he leaves.
His touch clears my head of everything except one stubborn thought.
That kiss felt very final.