The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)

“I’m going to go get something to eat,” he ultimately says, changing the subject and leaving, slamming the door behind him.

Minutes later, he comes back into the room with a tub of chocolate ice cream and a spoon. He leans his muscled back against the wooden door and pops the top of the plastic container using his thumb.

I can’t help but giggle. He’s always eating chocolate ice cream.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, stuffing a spoonful in his mouth.

“You,” I respond, pointing to his tub of ice cream.

He looks up from under his thick eyelashes with hooded eyes.

“You want some?” he offers, pushing off the door and walking toward me. He dips the silver spoon into the chocolaty goodness and places it inches from my mouth. I look at his mischievous blue eyes and open my mouth slowly, as he moves the spoon forward slightly. I move forward to lap up the chocolate, but he pulls it away before I can make contact.

I toss my head back and laugh at his playfulness.

He glances behind him at the dresser then turns back to me with the look of a man on a mission before grabbing a black bandana off the dresser.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that?” I ask nervously.

Shadow smirks like the devil himself with his eyes hooded. I recognize that look of lust in his eyes, and I second-guess having sex with Shadow after just hearing about Babs’ death.

He sits the chocolate tub aside and gestures his hand in a twirling action. “Turn,” he says.

I look at him, unsure if I want him to blindfold me. “Trust me,” he says softly, his eyes raised with excitement.

“It feels wrong, what with Babs and all,” I whisper.

Shadow licks the chocolate from his lips slowly as he fingers the bandana.

“People have different ways to deal with death,” he responds. I can’t deny Shadow. I crave for his affection in this dark hour—just us together, relieving our grief.

I inhale a deep breath and turn slowly. He wraps the soft fabric around my tear stained face, my vision darkening as it’s placed over my eyes. He tugs it as he ties it behind my head tightly. All I see is pitch-black. There is not even a peek of light slithering in. I can feel my breathing go heavy as my heart races against my chest. I trust Shadow, but this is taking trust to a whole new level.

“You think sex was great before, but you have no idea,” he whispers into my ear, the smell of chocolate coming from his breath.

His words remind me how much more sex he’s had than me. The thought that he has blindfolded others before makes me jealous.

He pulls my shirt above my head, his hands gliding down my body as his fingers interlock with the hem of my jersey shorts. He slowly pulls them off, his nose trails behind them along my legs.

Shadow directs me backward until the backs of my legs hit the dresser. He grabs my hips and lifts me on top of it, its top cold against my rear, making goose bumps crawl across my arms.

He brings his lips to mine, giving me a taste of the chocolate he denied me, his tongue demanding and greedy. He breaks the embrace and starts trailing kisses down my neck, down my collar bone, over the mounds of my breasts. My body hums with desire from the affectionate touch Shadow offers, bringing me from my mourning to elation. He gives my nipple a hard nip, making my body come alive with pleasure. He continues kissing me down the valley of my breasts, across my belly, heading south. My stomach clenches with anticipation, wondering what his next move is.

He grabs the underside of my thighs and scoots me back, jostling my body towards the back mirror, then pulls upward, angling my lower half up. I try to wiggle my head to loosen the bandanna but it’s no use. I feel my legs thrown over his shoulders and before I can protest, his mouth crashes against my wet core, the feeling of cold jolting me.

“Oh, my God!” I squeal, as he chuckles against my opening.

He slides his warm fingers into me and begins to pump them in and out painfully slow.