The Devil and I by Kay Alastor

Chapter Eleven

Rayna

A quick shower was mandatory after what Lucas had put my body through, I had decided. By the time we emerged from the bathroom, it was already dark out. It didn't take long for Lucas to change the bandaging on my arm, deciding that it still looked healthy enough that we could avoid antibiotics. He had briefly taken my temperature to confirm I was still without fever. I couldn't help but be impressed by the man's extensive medical supplies. Maybe keeping supplies like this is normal for a cop? I didn't linger on the thought, because he made quick work of caring for my sore arm before urging us towards the living room down the hall.

Entering Lucas' living room for the first time is just as exciting as checking out his office. The room is spacious but cozy, with a massive dark couch, a large flat screen TV attached to the wall, and a fireplace situated beneath it. There is a locked cabinet in the corner that displays multiple firearms and knives, and several paintings along the beige coloured walls that depict various dark cityscapes.

Lucas is standing by the window with his phone to his ear, giving a local pizza place the details of our order. He has a standing account with the place; he had mentioned before, making the call, paying them handsomely to make the thirty-five minute drive to his home every once in a while.

Once he's done with the call, he tosses his phone on the glass coffee table and offers me a small yet devastatingly handsome grin. “It'll be here in about fifty minutes.”

I nod in response, heading over to another small shelf where I can browse through his extensive DVD collection. Nothing but horror, thrillers, and some action flicks. That suits me just fine, so I pluck one of my favourite serial killer movies off the shelf and hand it over to him.

“Good choice,” he muses, walking over to the entertainment center and getting the movie started for us.

“It's one of my favourites,” I confess as I take a seat on his oversized couch, shuffling over slightly to give him space as he sits down in the corner next to me. I wasn't expecting him to reach over and haul me closer to him, but he does. I squeak in surprise, but immediately yield and settle in against his side. Tossing a muscular arm across the back of the couch behind me, he leans back and gets comfortable.

Wearing only a pair of dark grey sweats, his position gives me the perfect view of his powerful upper body. No fat to be found, just raw strength. The light from the TV clashes with the darkness in the room to cast shadows across the planes of his big body, adding extra definition to every muscle adorning him. I lift my gaze to his and catch him watching me with an arrogant grin. I feel my face flush and quickly turn my attention to the movie.

“Why is it your favourite, Rayna?”

I briefly wonder if he thinks I'm strange for loving serial killer movies until I remember him threatening to murder my rapist while he finger fucked me into oblivion in front of the bathroom mirror. “The killer really loves his girlfriend. He stalks her and keeps her safe without her really knowing,” I explain, keeping my eyes trained on the big TV, not wanting to see what he thinks of my answer. He grunts in a way that tells me my answer pleases him.

“You like the way he stalks her, do you?” His voice is gravelly again, and the sound causes my skin to flush and heat to spark between my thighs. This man, he likes to breathe life into the embers inside of me and fan the flames until it's a wildfire I can't control. All I can do is nod in response, which prompts him to continue unashamedly. “Do you like the part where he is standing in her bedroom in the middle of the night, rubbing his cock through his pants?”

The embers he was teasing roar to life. Perhaps this man really was the devil, able to read my mind and know what I used to fantasize about long before my trauma. A shiver runs through me, and all I am capable of is another affirming nod.

Lucas shifts his body, spreading his legs so that he can grip me around the waist and pull me back against his chest. Caged by his body, a small gasp leaves me as I feel the hard length of his cock press against my back. This man is insatiable. I wasn't about to complain, though. I have no problem matching his relentless hunger.

“You want to know my favourite part?” he says into my ear, not bothering to lower his voice to a whisper. The low rumble makes my brain spark, sending pleasure shooting down my spine and straight to my clit. I quiver as I feel the brush of his lips there. “I love when he climbs into her bed, covers her mouth with his hand, and fucks her awake.”

His hands begin to drift down my belly, which only makes my breathing speed up faster. By the time his hand slips down between my legs, I'm panting with need. His fingers trail just above where I need them to go, amplifying my lust. “What I love most, though, is when she wakes up and realizes it's him... then begs him to fuck her harder.”

I moan as his fingers trail down and graze the sensitive bud above my slit, that rough hand teasing me with feather light touches. I whimper and try to grind myself against his hand, but he holds me in place with his other arm. “You'd beg me just like that, wouldn't you, baby?” he groans in my ear, causing my hips to buck involuntarily as arousal overwhelms me.

“Yes,” I gasp, trying to twist in his hold. If I can just climb on to his lap, I can grind down on his cock and convince him to fill the aching emptiness between my legs. He doesn't let me move, though. He is so much stronger than me, and whatever fight I put up is futile.

“No, Rayna. You're not in control here,” he tells me through clenched teeth, his hand continuing to rub frustratingly slow and gentle circles over my aching clit. “I control this pussy, which means I'll tell you when you get to come. Do you understand?”

I want to whimper and whine in absolute frustration as my need to orgasm soars to unbearable heights. I nod, unable to keep the misery from my voice. “Yes. Yes, I understand,” I pant, continuing to squirm in his hold as he begins to apply more and more pressure with his torturous hand.

“Such a good girl,” he groans, nuzzling against my ear before placing a kiss at the soft place just below. I feel lost in the fire, writhing in his embrace while he pulls ragged moans from me. His fingers are driving me insane, turning me into an animal desperate for release. I cannot even fathom where he learned how to take a woman to these brutal heights and hold her there until he was good and ready to force her over the edge. Knowing the kind of mind-shattering bliss that he could deliver, I was devoted to pleasing him. I'd do anything he said as long as he took me to the place I'd only been able to reach with him.

There is something liberating about someone else taking control, something powerful that soothes my battered and broken soul. Being under Lucas's control feels like being given a second chance at life, and the knowledge of that is enough to catapult me so high I'm left teetering on the edge he holds me on. “Please... Lucas, please,” I whimper, my hips grinding against his hand. So wet I can hardly stand it. I plead with him to put me out of my misery.

“Come for me, baby,” he commands roughly, finally working my clit with the intensity I need to shatter into euphoria. I come so hard that stars spark to life around the edges of my vision, and I am left utterly breathless as the fire bursts from the core of my sex and radiates up my spine leaving me devastated under the ferocity of my climax. I shudder in his arms as he pulls every single ounce of pleasure from my body. “That's it. Just like that. You don't need to give it to me, I'm real good at taking it.”

I feel so powerless in this moment, so utterly his. He has given me so many orgasms since he brought me home that I'm not sure I'll ever recover from this new found addiction of mine. I let my body relax as he winds his arms around me, struggling to catch my breath. It has been a shock to my system to go from living in constant pain and fear to drowning in pleasure under this man's intense focus. Lucas is heroin, delivering euphoria straight into my veins. I was doomed from the first hit, but something tells me he is just as doomed as me.

***

A heavy knocking on the front door startles me awake. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but the pleasure was too good, and Lucas felt too safe. He coaxed me to sleep by playing with my hair, watching the movie in silence. I hadn't meant to drift off, but I sure as hell was awake now. Pulled from serenity and thrust back into the state of fear I was so used to living in. I came awake with a gasp, my body moving on autopilot as I tried to run from the man holding me. My body jerking violently in a frantic attempt to escape the unknown threat.

“Hey! It's okay, Rayna. It's just the pizza guy.” Lucas did his best to speak to me calmly, but it was tough to come down from the surge of panic that crashed through my body like a tsunami. He pulls me back into his arms, this time facing him, one hand pressed firmly against my cheek. I've been hyperventilating, which has Lucas's gaze narrowed with concern. “Breathe for me, baby. You're safe. I won't let anything hurt you,” he promises, repeating the words over and over again until my breathing starts to even out. It doesn't take too long before a calmness begins to settle over me, which seems to make him pretty damn happy. He leans in to place a gentle kiss on my lips, one hand stroking down through my hair.

“He's already gone. I prepaid and told him to knock and leave it at the door. You're safe,” he tells me, and I release the rest of my tension on a deep exhale.

“I'm sorry,” I confess, my voice still shaky from the comedown.

“Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. I just... I want you to know you're safe with me. I know that will take time, but I need you to try to trust me.”

I know it wasn't his intention, but I feel guilty for not having better control of my emotional responses. Ever since I was assaulted, I startle so easily. It's become my new normal, even though I recognize that it's not healthy. I know it's a trauma response, so I try not to be too hard on myself. I remind myself that this man is a police officer, and is well equipped to handle any threats. Reasoning with myself isn't easy when my brain has been altered by such a horrific trauma.

Lucas settles me back on the couch before getting up and walking over to the front door. I bite my lip as he opens it and leans down to grab the box of pizza left behind. His eyes wander through the darkness for several long moments before he steps back inside and locks the door behind him.

“All clear. Nobody is out there,” he tells me, walking back over and setting the pizza down on the coffee table. Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, I force myself to focus on the delicious smell of the recently delivered food. I really love pizza, so I try my hardest to focus on that as he grabs two plates and two bottles of water and settles back down beside me.

I force myself to eat, and much to my surprise, I find myself really enjoying it. Allowing myself to focus on the movie and the good food helps draw my thoughts out of the dark and onto the good things currently in front of me. Normally I can't eat after a panic attack like that, so I am grateful when I manage to finish the two slices Lucas put on my plate for me.

We finish the movie in comfortable silence, though Lucas coaxes me into drinking an extra bottle of water despite feeling pretty full. When it's over, he gets up and turns everything off. It plunges us into near darkness, though the moon outside casts enough light into the house that I can see him as he comes back and offers me his hand. I take it, allowing him to lead me back to the bedroom.

I am so exhausted, I don't mind when he pulls his shirt over my head and off my body. Briefly, I wondered why I've been so tired. I don't normally sleep most of the day away. It makes sense, though, when I remember that I lost blood and went through something emotionally traumatic. A failed suicide attempt means that I probably need a lot more sleep than usual.

The feel of his fingers on my arm as his hand grips me, pulls me from my thoughts.

“Do you need anything? Pain medication, water, more food?” he asks, his intense silver eyes focused on my face.

“No. Just sleep,” I tell him, a yawn taking me by surprise.

His hands rub soothingly up and down my arms, his expression soft with a hint of concern. “If you need anything during the night, please wake me up. I want to make sure you have what you need.”

I nod and reach up on my toes to place a kiss on his lips. His arms fold around me in a gentle embrace, drawing me into the kiss and deepening it. When he pulls away, his eyes are half mast. The beautifully intense grey colour of them looks ethereal in the moonlight spilling in from the windows. I realize in that moment that I could get lost in them and drown in this man for the rest of eternity.

He doesn't move away from me as he leans towards me and slips his pants off, letting them fall to his feet beside the bed. With firm hands, he guides me backwards onto the bed. I sigh contentedly when he settles me in between the sheets, pulling the cool, silky material up over me. When he slides in behind me, pressing my back up against his torso and wrapping me in his arms, the warmth of his body rushes over me. I can't help but moan at the incredible heat he gives off from behind me, soothing every inch of me he can reach.

He doesn't say another word as he settles in, holding me as close as he possibly can. It takes almost nothing for sleep to claim me. When it comes, I feel like I am drifting up into the night sky. My body feels weightless, and my mind is equally light. For the first time in what feels like forever, sleep comes easily. I know I am safe here with Lucas, protected by his body and the security of his home.

Even though Lucas promises me he is the devil himself, I can't help but remember that the devil was once an angel.