Page 83 of Bedeviled

I don’t know why his words have my nipples tightening.

He’s come inside me many times, and I’d hardly been aware of the lack of protection. Now it’s all I can think about.

A wicked thrill rushes through me at the prospect. I hadn’t factored that in. In fact, the risk of conceiving has my pussy clenching, just a little.

“Please come inside me.”

He nips my ear, grinning. “If you insist.”

The bastard.

He laughs as though he heard the thought. And then Memnon and his deft magic are everywhere, stroking my nipples, my clit, my inner walls. I fall into the sensation until it overwhelms me.

With a cry, I come, clutching Memnon tighter as my orgasm shatters through me. Memnon grips me harder, and with a groan of his own, I feel him tip over the edge as well.

He rocks against me again and again, a little of his release slickening my inner thighs.

Even once his thrusts slow, he doesn’t immediately lower me. Instead he leans his chest against mine, pinning me to the wall.

“Don’t clean yourself up,” he whispers.

I give him a strange look. “Why?”

“I want to see my cum dripping from you next time I enter.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Planning on a repeat performance?”

His eyes have a devious, determined gleam to them. “Yes. I plan on many of them”

CHAPTER 19

Memnon makes good on his word.

He comes inside me many times over the rest of the night and well into the morning. By then, the sheets are damp, the new bedroom reeks of sex, and Nero has stayed far, far away.

And when I get up, I’m still dripping cum.

I head into the shower, but I’m only in it for perhaps a minute or two before Memnon makes a guest appearance to—surprise, surprise—fill me up once again. I should definitely not find the entire thing as kinky as I do.

It’s only afterward that the two of us even talk.

“Come with me to work,” Memnon says under the shower spray once he’s pulled out of me.

I lean back against the wall, my knees weak.

“Isn’t it a holiday weekend?” I ask.

I imagine that most people have better things to do—like stuff their faces with Thanksgiving leftovers—than push around paperwork on a Saturday. Then again, I don’t know how multibillion-dollar corporations work. Maybe nobody who works there ever gets weekends off. It wouldn’t be the evilest thing they do.

“I have a couple special meetings,” Memnon says cryptically.

I eye him. With Memnon, special meetings could mean anything from a basic business chat to someone’s going to die.

I eye him a little longer, trying not to get distracted by the way the shower spray dapples his skin.

“You just want to fuck me again,” I finally decide.

Memnon’s mouth curves into a smile and I feel my knees go a little weaker. “Yes. But I also want to show you what I do, especially since this new empire is half yours.”