11- Devi
11- Devi
“Does a personal dance come with this drink?” Selk jokes with a sneer, unruffled, as if whatever just happened between us all was in my head. I glare, stifling the words I want to say as I set his glass down and slide the lithe to the center of the table. “Because you know, I could be persuaded to blow off some steam.”
I hate that the words and his damaged voice remind me of the pulsing between my legs. I shift, inhaling whatever bad choice I was going to make ten minutes ago. I turn to Emer and fight the groan. These males will definitely star in my alone time later. Just the thought makes my spine tingle. How good the relief will be.
“Oh, what’s wrong, Delicious, all out of play time?” Selk teases, his voice even lower, raspier with distorted sounds that make my pulse jump. I regard him out of the corner of my eye.
In the glow from the wall, shadows are curling below his jaw and clavicle, drawing me to his bright face and even brighter eyes. It’s there in the icy silver that I see something finally come to life. The confusion must show on my face because he only smiles wider. No surprise that he enjoys winding people up. Maybe he enjoys knowing I’m desperate for him the same way I love knowing that erection is for me.
It’s nearly tenting his jeans now. I grow more confident that I’m turning this night around, so I give him my full attention. I brush off his leering, pointedly looking him up and down as if I find him subpar.
“If you’re worried about what the others will think, don’t worry,” he drawls, small hairs framing his face, “they’ve seen worse.”
Emer huffs but doesn’t disagree.
“As unfortunate as it is that I have to spare you the thirty seconds of embarrassment,” I say, my tone completely cool, though my heart races. “I’m afraid I’m here to be your poison, not your pleasure. Hence, the lithe. Though I’m more than happy to call up sufficient help for your problem… if you require it?” His eyes change as I dig into him. “And if you’re worried about my opinion of you, don’t worry, I hear desperation affects one in ten Thur males these days, so it’s completely understandable.”
One of the silent men in front of me stifles a surprised sound, covering it with a sip of water from a glass I hadn’t heard disappear. I’m not usually so unaware. I turn away from the grinning Lightfleck and offer the correct drink to his counterpart. Glancing at the table, I ensure everything is where I left it.
It all seems properly in order.
“So… if you gentlemales would like a drink, a hands-free dance—” I give Selk a loaded stare—“or information on how to safely consume lithe, I’d be more than happy to oblige. Otherwise...”
Emer and Selk begin arguing over who will ask for the first hands-free dance.
“Somehow, with that mouth, I find that increasingly hard to imagine you’d be happy to oblige.” The cold voice sinks into my skin as the male leans forward out of the shadowed part of the couch. Revealing the source of my anxiety. “I’ll have a blackout, no ice—”
His eyes catch mine and hold, sending a frisson of unease through me. As if the strange sensation wasn’t enough, my head gets fuzzy at his gaze, completely dark and glossy with no whites or pupils to be found. It’s inky…viscous like oil, and touching me everywhere as I’m pulled under. Are Emer and Selk still speaking? If they are, my brain won’t let the words in. Nothing moves, the air in my chest expanding and contracting painfully.
He barely cocks his head, his neatly cropped hair firmly in place, but the weight suffocates me, crushes me down to dust. And then my body just… breaks.
That’s the only way to describe the wetness that gushes, filling the room with a sweet, tangy smell that makes my head loll. What the fuuuu—
“How…?” he asks, his voice trailing off as ice skates down my spine. Someone growls and the ice turns to heat. I stumble forward, tilting my hips back as I brace on the table. Why he’s the only voice I can hear, I’m not sure. Why I’ve lost all sense… I don’t even know what I’m doing, sliding forward so my skirt pops up exposing my ass.
“What are you wearing to make you smell like that human?” His voice is a roar in the silence of the room. It’s not really a question. No, it sounds more like an accusation, but of what, I’m not sure. As if I’ve committed some sort of crime and he’s trying to uncover what it is. “You’re…impossible. The length your kind goes through to be worth something,” he snarls, disgusted.
Yes, it’s disgust, finding something about me disagreeable. That makes me deflate, tilting my hips back down until I’m on my knees behind the table. Does he sense that I don’t quite fit? It’s this fire of need in my stomach. Of course, he wouldn’t want a desperate little slut who only wants to be filled. Needs it like her next breath. Haven’t I heard that enough? Don’t I know better than to show my truth? Not just here but anywhere.
You’re fucking filthy, aren’t you? Jack’s voice makes my head spin, some awful sound clawing its way up my throat. I swallow it. I’m cowering on the ground now, curling my knees under myself like I can make all the wetness go back inside me. It’s embarrassing and no one wants it. I don’t even want it. The cold male looks at me like I’m the worst thing he’s ever seen. That’s the sensation of tightness in my chest, I realize, and even as I shake my head no, the room is growing fuzzier. Of course he doesn’t want me begging like this. How long has it been since I’ve taken a breath? It feels like my blood is boiling, searing enough to drag a pitiful sound from me. I can’t—
“Nox!” The male beside him hisses, shoving his shoulder hard enough to break our eye contact. I might recognize that voice, but it’s like sand slipping through my fingers. I can’t hold onto the knowledge. Cold hands are on my shoulders, turning me. I can’t breathe. I can’t draw the air into my lungs, no matter how hard I gasp. Why is my face wet? I’ll always be like this. Always broken. Never right.
“Take a breath,” the blurry face insists, clearing some of my tunnel vision. Selk studies me with bland disinterest, maybe even a little irritation if the pinch between his brows says anything. I know nothing about him and even less about what’s happening right now, but body language is usually universal. He commands me to inhale again, his freezing hands burning through all else. Am I shaking? My body is ignoring my mind, responding to Selk’s words without consulting me first. There’s a link directly from him to me, and yes, it’s alarming, but not nearly as much as the tears. The number of times I’ve cried alone in my shower? Countless. But the number of times I’ve cried in front of strangers? None. Absolutely zero.
Not since childhood when I felt my first craze come over me.
I’m distantly aware of the arguing going on beside me. The sound of feet shuffling and glass breaking. Selk holds my attention, though, pulling me deeper into his blinding eyes. The darker silver ring around the molten silver core is beautiful, terrifyingly so, but some part of me thinks danger might be an aphrodisiac. Another, more rational part of me thinks something is very wrong with this.
With me.
“Breathe until you stop gasping, but do not move. You’ll remain here, in this spot, until you hear the door shut behind us. Only then can you move. If you do that, you’ll be safe. Show me you understand.”
His modded voice isn’t as cold as his hands, but it’s so unique it slips between the thoughts in my mind like water. I think I could listen to such a purring voice tell me anything. Effortlessly, my brain bends, making my head nod.
“Good,” he says, giving me a quick check by tilting my head and peering closely at my eyes before letting me go. He hesitates as he studies my right eye. His lips dip then pinch as he looks over my shoulder. “Go home and forget we were ever here. Get rid of whatever they gave you to make you perfume tonight. Never take it again.”
I blink blindly and nod, even though I have no idea what he’s talking about. Still, I stay. Even as they exit the room. Even as I desperately want to risk the broken hand and punch Nox in the face for whatever he did to me. Selk too.
It’s not until I hear the door click shut that my body unfreezes, jolting straight up with a yelp. They’re already gone, taking any traces of their existence with them. And in their place, centered on the table, is a neat stack of money like some consolation prize. I’m pissed. And just under that, I’m more aroused than I know what to do with. Beyond the buzzing sensation roving over my clit, is the embarrassment from being seen as I am and left wanting. Always wanting.
For a second, each of their faces flash in my mind. I pair the image with the name as if it’s going to disappear any second. It doesn’t. I know I’m not supposed to remember them and that it might cost me my life if they ever find out, but I replay the events one more time to set them like cement.
Then I snatch up the money and run.