I sound so crazy. I hate it, and I’m probably giving Devil whiplash with the way I war with myself and switch my brain around on him. I’m having trouble being the Torrent I was before all of this. The Torrent who saw what she wanted, took it and to hell with anyone else. I miss her because there are times now she’s replaced by someone shy and timid and that has never been me. I’m afraid to take the wrong step. Still, I know I need to tread carefully. I can’t go through anything like I did with my father, not again. I may hate it, but I am… delicate right now. I’m so unsure of everything. The one thing I’m positive of right now is… Devil.

I’m safe with him.

Everything in me feels that and I’m going to trust in it—even if I have to fight myself to do it.

I take a breath and then bunch my fingers in the hem of his shirt. He laid on my bed fully clothed last night. He slept all night in his jeans and shirt. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but he didn’t press for more either.

“Lean up,” I ask quietly as I pull his T-shirt from his body. He helps me navigate it over his head and I ignore the way my heart keeps slamming against my chest. Once I’m done I throw the shirt down on the floor. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” I tell him. He grins up at me lazily.

“No one was stopping you, Angel,” he says, but he’s wrong. I was stopping myself. I second guess myself constantly now, but I’ve vowed to stop doing that with Devil. He says I’m safe with him, and in my heart I believe him.

I drag my gaze back down to his now bare chest. He’s not one of these pretty boys who has waxes and man-scaping done. I always suspected that, but looking at the hair on his chest, it’s confirmed. I actually like that he has hair there. It’s not overly hairy, but enough that I want to press my chest against his and rake my breasts through it, feel it…

“How did you get this?” I ask, my finger moving over an old scar, which is obviously a knife wound. It’s so close to his heart that I inwardly cringe.

“Someone tried to kidnap Diesel’s kid. I made the mistake of going easy on them because it was a woman…” He shrugs. My fingers stall over the scar and I look at Devil.

“Women can be as deadly as a man,” I tell him, knowing that to be true. How many times in my past was I overlooked because of my sex? I always used it to my advantage… at least until I found myself a prisoner with no chance of escape.

“Learned that the hard way, Angel,” he says.

I lean down to kiss the scar, feeling the hard raised ridge against my lips.

“You can trust me, Logan,” I tell him, needing him to understand that. “I know I haven’t made it easy, but I’ve had a lot going on. I never would have lied if—”

He brings his fingers up to my lips to stop me from talking.

“It’s the past, Torrent. All in the past. The only thing that matters is what’s between us and in front of us right now. The only thing I regret about the past is that I didn’t try harder to find you after that damn nun told me you left.”

“You tried to find me?” I whisper, feeling happy at his words.

“Not hard enough and for that I’m sorry,” he tells me, his words solemn and forthright.

“It’s all in the past. Nothing matters but what’s between us right now,” I respond giving his words back to him.

I let my fingers travel down his body, drawing an imaginary line that only I can see. I pass a few other scars and one looks like it was caused from a bullet. I don’t ask about it; I’m not sure I really want to know right now. Even with the scars marring his skin, he’s utter perfection. Men usually don’t like to be called beautiful, but there’s no other word for Devil. I don’t share that with him, however. My hands go to his jeans and I unlatch the button and carefully slide the zipper down over the large bulge pressing against the denim.

My hands shake a little. It’s been a while since I’ve been with a man, but it’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to be with one too.

I trace the tattoo that hangs low on his groin. It’s a 666 that starts black and slowly fades into different hues of red until the tips of the 6’s all are bright, fiery red.

“I can’t believe you have this tattoo,” I smile, then slide further down his legs so I can bend down and trace the numbers with my tongue.

“Don’t worry, baby. I promise my dick’s not cursed and it’s only evil if you don’t touch it,” he jokes. His fingers slide through my hair as I’m kissing him, massaging my scalp and tenderly caressing me. It’s nice.

It’s more than nice.

“I guess I’ll have to touch it, then,” I murmur.

It takes some work, because my legs are shaking at best, but I slide off of Devil and stand on the floor. I’m a mess of desire, hunger, and nerves. Devil helps me take his pants off and we do the work in silence, the air too thick for words. The only sound you can hear is the mixture of our breathing.

His cock springs out almost immediately—no boxers or briefs for him. I wasn’t wrong about him either. He’s big, so big that I grow wetter from looking at how impressive he is. Every feminine part in my body tightens in response. He’s a vast range of colors, from darkened flushed colors around the head to lighter and brighter colors down the shaft. There’s a bulging vein that runs along the center of his cock that I’m dying to press my tongue to. I can’t really tell how long he is. I’ve never really thought about it much with a man; as long as they had enough to get the job done it has never really mattered, but the truth of it is that Devil is generously endowed and I find myself being more than thankful. He’s also so wide there’s a part of me wondering how he will fit inside of me.

“Shit…” I groan without meaning to, as I see a large pearl drop of pre-cum drip down off the large, dark head of his cock. It’s beautiful and though every man might have this certain appendage, I’m sure there’s not one that looks as good as this one.

“Like what—oh fuck, Angel,” Devil growls his fingers tightening almost painfully on my head when I bend down to lick the head of his cock, stealing his pre-cum.

I hum in approval as I taste him. I expected something almost bitter in flavor, but instead it’s sweet and tangy and I want more. I stretch my hand around him. He’s so broad that it’s hard to do, but I use it to stroke him tightly, squeezing his cock and milking him without thought—only knowing I want more.

More pre-cum slides out onto his head this time, this one larger, and it fans out sliding over the edge and running down so that it lands on my finger. I lean down to lick it off of my own hand and take my time letting my tongue trace the path back up his cock until I suck the entire head in my mouth.

“Mmm…” I moan around him, because never has anything felt so good. Then again, I’ve never had feelings for someone the way I do Devil and that makes all the difference.

“You need to slow down or I’m going to come much too fucking soon,” Devil nearly snarls, his body vibrating beneath me.

I look up at him from under my lashes, refusing to unseal my lips around him. I want to keep him in my mouth until I’ve managed to take everything I can. That’s something else Devil makes me that I’ve never been before… Greedy.

I try to hold his gaze as I swallow his cock down, trying to take all of him—even knowing it’s impossible. He stretches my mouth impossibly and all too soon he’s at the back of my throat and I’m forced to stop. I slide back up, moistening his shaft with a mixture of my mouth and his own cum. His cock shines as I let his head free from my mouth, for just a second, right before gliding back down.

Devil gathers my hair in one of his hands and I look to see him staring at me, taking in everything I’m doing. The pleasure on his face is enough to make me want more, try harder to make him lose control.

“Fuck, Angel. You’re beautiful,” he groans.

He doesn’t put pressure on my head, which I kind of expected with his hold on me. Instead, he lets me keep control as I run my tongue over his shaft and bring him closer to the edge. I use my free hand to massage his balls. They’re warm, almost hot to the touch, and I’m surrounded by the musky scent of Devil and it feels like heaven.

I’m so wet I can feel my juices dripping and sliding—painting the insides of my thighs. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on before and Devil’s not even touched me… at least not sexually. I continue sucking him, squeezing his cock tight with both my mouth and my hand. Devil pulls a little tighter on my hair and I cry out from pleasure.

“I’m going to come, Angel.”

“Yes…” I moan around his thick shaft, because that’s what I want. I want his cum shooting out of his cock, sliding down my throat and out of my mouth. I want to know that I made him lose control, took him to the edge and made him explode. Just the thought of it makes me feel like the most powerful woman ever born.

“Take your top off. I want to see my cum running down your neck and over your breasts. I want you painted in my cum,” he cries, his voice hoarse.

I’m already clawing at my own shirt, because his words are exactly what I want. It’s almost as if he looked inside of me and could see what I wanted. I have to let go of his cock to finish getting the shirt off of me. I whimper in disappointment as he literally rips the top off of me, throwing it crazily across the bed.

“Please,” I whimper when he makes it impossible to slide my lips back down on his cock again right away.

Instead, he aims his cock at the valley between my breasts, painting his juices on my chest so his pre-cum makes me slick and wet.

“I’m going to titty-fuck you soon, Angel. Your tits are too fucking perfect not to do it,” he warns, or hell, maybe that’s a promise.

All I know is that I’m done waiting. I grab his cock and move to take control again. I take him back into my mouth and I’ve barely made the complete stroke until I hear his groan, signaling his climax is coming. His body stiffens and I squeeze his cock as I stroke him again with my mouth. His cum releases and slides down my throat. I can’t keep all of it in, can’t swallow it fast enough, but I try.

I feel Devil’s hand tighten into my hair again as he comes. I hear his groan of pleasure that is almost anguished and then I hear words that make me feel…too many things to decipher.

“Torrent,” he cries, my name never sounding sweeter. “God, baby… don’t stop. Hold on to me… never stop holding on to me.”

Maybe he’s talking about right now, but it feels like more and I find myself hoping he really means more…