Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

Oh, shit.

I’d loved Emory since the moment I laid eyes on her when I was fourteen.

“I need you,” he murmured. “You don’t know how much we all need you.” I bit the corner of my mouth to keep my emotions in check, but my eyes stung. His lips hovered over mine, the heat made the room spin, and then . . . I opened my eyes, looking over at her. She was sitting against the mats and watching us. She hugged her knees to her body, unblinking as Damon’s mouth ghosted mine, and . . . when I didn’t pull away, he captured my lips with his, slipping in his tongue and nibbling my lip. “We don’t smile without you,” he whispered. “She doesn’t smile without you.” My cock hardened, and I groaned as he slid his hand down my jeans and stroked me. Emory’s mouth fell open as she started breathing harder. She wasn’t running. And every second I didn’t stop him and every second she sat there, making no move to leave, I got harder and harder. Maybe she was living last night all over again, or this was the last fucking thing I could share with her, but chills spread over my body,

watching her watch us, and I fisted D’s hair as he dove into my neck and sucked me dry. “Fuck,” I groaned. I closed my eyes for a moment, pushing the worry away and just diving in. To hell with it. I worked his jeans open as he unfastened mine, but before I could pull him out and show her how good my hands worked, he dipped down and sucked me into his mouth, drawing me out slow and strong. I moaned. “Oh, God.” Curling my fingers into his hair as he moved up and down, I got stiffer, the heat of her eyes turning me on. I stared at her, the T-shirt falling off one shoulder, baring her skin, and her nipples poking through the fabric. She liked it. Her nails dug into the mat underneath her, and she looked so hot, almost like she wanted to come over and help him do what he was doing to me. Let her look. Let her know what it looks like with someone else’s mouth on my dick. I looked down at Damon, sweat cooling my pores as he pushed me between his warm lips and down his throat.

“She is beautiful,” he panted, coming back up and stroking me as he bit my jaw. “And she’s going to hate seeing you happy without her.” Spitting into my hand, I reached into his jeans and stroked him long and tight, kissing him back, both of us thrusting into each other’s fists as his rosary draped onto my chest. Grunts and groans filled the room as the pace grew frantic, chasing our orgasms, and I swear I heard Em moan as she watched us. I wanted her to touch herself. I hoped she would. “Tighter, man,” Damon growled against my mouth. “This is as tight as it gets,” I told him. “You’re not sticking that in my ass.” He snorted. “You’re right. Your dick is smaller. You should top.” “Fuck you.” He laughed, and I smiled, thrusting up into him. Our relationship, strangely, was back to bantering. I closed my eyes, sweat coat...

I moaned, tipping my head back and struggling for breath. My muscles burned, but shivers ran through my body so good, and I tried to catch ...

“I will raise hell and reduce this house to ash if you act like this is a choice for one more second!” he bellowed at me and then pointed to his side. “Now!”

“The role of the villain is only determined by who’s telling the story.”

I don’t give a shit if you’re his friend, his mom, or God. You’re not entitled to a grudge against me. This isn’t about you.”

“Are you up for this?” she asked again. I nodded. “Yeah, for like, ever now.”

“I’m the eye of the storm. You?”

“I’m the storm,” he murmured.

“Live for your love,” the judge said, “love your life, and raise hell.”

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