Grey eyed Devil

Darcy

“Come here, pretty boy.” One of the fat idiots called from behind me.

The club’s lights danced overhead, but the music felt distant even though I was in the thick of it. I didn’t mind the bodies pressing around me; I just shoved past the excited crowd, desperate to escape. I glanced back for a moment to catch my breath and spotted the two chubby men who had followed me since I turned down their advances at the bar, where I’d splashed one of them with a drink.

I screamed and pushed forward, my heart racing and my head pounding. If it weren’t for my worthless father, none of this would be happening. He’d sold pieces of me before—money, favors, whatever kept him from drowning. Tonight was just another debt I was expected to pay with my body. But I had to survive. I always found a way to live even if it meant cheating or doing wrong stuffs. I didn’t mind as long as it would bring cash to my pocket. But letting some fat, smelly things fuck me was not in the agenda.

I darted into a quieter part of the club, though the sounds of moans and slapping echoed painfully in my ears. The effects of being drugged weighed heavily on me; my body felt unnaturally warm.

I had practice tomorrow. How would I lead the team if my body feels spineless like this? I couldn’t even think about how the team would react.

“Stop right there, blue hair,” one of the men called out, flashing a crooked grin. “You need this more than we do. We can take care of you.”

I felt sick. My stomach twisted. But I couldn’t stop either. I faced them and raised my middle finger. “Go fuck yourselves, ugly pigs.”

I backed away, sticking out my tongue, when something struck me from behind. Before I could turn, my legs gave out and I hit the floor like a sack of water.

I looked up at more yellow teeth. Fuck. How had I ended up in this mess again?

I couldn’t see their faces clearly, but their hungry stares told me enough.

“Look at those eyes,” one of them said, his mouth utterly disgusting.

I should’ve fought my way out, but I had no strength left. The drug and the old betrayal from my father left me hollow.

I pinched my nose as the stale reek of alcohol hit me. I thought I’d escaped the men Dad had sent to sleep with me, only to end up facing another group of broke, hungry men.

“Get out of my way.” I glared hard at their faces with a gritty expression.

“C’mon, you’re all hot and sexy. Wanna have a taste.” The first man laughed, gripping my hair with hands that were too big and stinky.

Every freaking person in the corners was already staring at us like it was some kind of soap opera.

“Let go. You think I want those twigs you call dicks? Even chickens would pass.” I forced my hair free, throwing my fist into the man’s crotch.

A hard slap landed across my face. I saw stars as the spot stung like hell.

“Watch your mouth, pretty boy. I beat up twinks.” The first man grunted.

My legs almost gave way, but I stood up. I gave the man a good slap on the cheek. “You don’t dare hit me.”

I bet the slap didn’t do anything to scare them off, because the next second they were already too close. My eyes turned as everything became blurry.

The drug was taking effect.

Heat crawled up my neck and my vision doubled. I couldn’t even keep my hands steady. And I knew I wasn’t going to make it out on my own.

Tears welled up in my eyes. The only thing I could think of was: if this guy raped me—I would never forgive my father. Not for this. Not for any of it.

“Let go.” I pushed weakly.

My bones gave out. I couldn’t even fight off properly. They should just take me. What else was I useful for?

In my blurry vision, I seemed to hear a voice.

“He’s mine. Touch him and you’re dead.”

The voice was deep, confident, and familiar in a way I couldn’t explain—like something I’d heard in a dream I wasn’t supposed to remember.

Before I knew it, I was shoved into a hard chest. His arms wrapped around me like he was checking if I was still breathing. He smelled like cedarwood and familiarity, but I couldn’t even open my eyes properly to see his face.

“You have guts, kid. You took our meals away from us,” one man said.

Another froze. He practically took a step back. “It’s him,” he muttered.

Who’s what? My brows furrowed against the stranger’s chest.

I heard one of the men, his feet moving faster on the floor. “You think I’m scared of a kid?”

“The Italian heir, holy shit.” Someone gasped from behind me.

Then footsteps.

I felt the stranger’s muscles clench, and before I could even process it I heard the men grunting on the floor.

I wasn’t sure the stranger did all that.

But nobody in the corner was filming anymore.

The stranger’s voice was soft but laced with chills as he leaned into my ear. “What do I do with them, baby?”

“Kill them. All of them.”

I wasn’t sure I said that out loud, or if I said it right, but what I knew was that I was shoved to the wall, my head banged from the intensity, and pain shot up my spine. It wasn’t hard; he just put his hands on either side of my head, supporting my head with an arm. My legs buckled as I craved something harder.

My body was pressed hard against the stranger’s, a tense and intimidating feeling. “You want me to fuck you.” His voice was rough.

I tried to fight back. My fist pushed him back. “Just take me home. I don’t want it.”

A chuckle vibrated through his chest as he looked down at me, his arm holding me from dropping to the floor. “Your body is telling a different story.” His eyes ate at my sweaty shirt.

Why does he feel so much like my ex? The way he talks, the way he thinks he controls the room even though he definitely doesn’t?

I must be insane. Why the hell would I be thinking of my ex when I broke him first?

Darcy, you don’t miss him. This is just a glitch, a toxic reaction. I assured myself.

A whimper left my lips as I couldn’t suppress the drug’s effect. I pressed harder into him, chasing pressure. “Fuck off.”

“You’re still that perfect liar. I guess some things never change.”

I could see his grin through my closed eyes. Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten—like he knew me better than he should.

My lids opened slightly, heavy as hell, as I tried to get the figure. All I saw was charcoal grey eyes. Nothing more. But everything was familiar. “You don’t know me, idiot.” I hissed.

“I’m fucking you because I want to. And you’re gonna pay for it.” He cupped my sweaty jaw.

“Stop spouting nonsense. I told you to let me go.”

“I can’t. Not anymore.” His lips were already an inch away from mine.

“What?”

“I’m greedy and I love it.” He let his rough fingers roam around my body. I hissed out, fighting the pleasure building in. My toes curled.

He was doing this intentionally. And I couldn’t hold back.

“I don’t have money. What should I pay you with?” My hands wrapped around his neck.

His teeth grazed my ear, biting it painfully. “You never have money, Darcy. But your life would do. I want it. Every inch.” He hissed, biting all the way to my lips.

My brain short-circuited. The way he said my name felt like he’d said it a hundred times before. I pulled him closer when my brain screamed ‘run for your life.’

His tongue found mine, tangling and going deep inside my throat. I opened my mouth for him to get full access.

It’s just a stranger. Tomorrow we’d never meet again.

Somehow, that felt like a lie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but fuck me. I’m losing it already.” I roughly broke the kiss.

He smirked with closed eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He looked around like the place was suddenly disgusting. “I won’t do it in a place like this.”

I wrapped my legs around him, my hand curled up his neck. Our lips found each other again. His mouth was hot, too hot, and the way he moaned in my mouth made me think of someone. He gripped my ass hard, pulling me closer even though I was nearly inside him. He moved, shoving through a door that marked private while the bass thumped behind us.

I lost it.

Every resistance melting into want and ecstasy.

My hands traced the black dragon tattoo sprawled alive across his back, fingers digging into it as he ate me whole.

Tears welled up in my eyes. He wasn’t gentle; he was too rough, like a starved demon.

I dug my nails into the skin of the tattoo. He rammed his cock in and out of me like a motherfucker. He tilted his hips, grunting and panting like a drunken horse. His stamina was perfect. I felt my hole expanding with pain and pleasure. My head fell back to the bed. “You’re so big.” I was breathless before he finished one round.

“You’ll get used to it.” He threw his head back, lips slightly open. His rhythm wasn’t fixed. I arched my back as he pinned my hips, grinding hard and deep right against that perfect, aching sweet spot inside me until I couldn’t form a proper thought—just moaning senseless words, fully aware that tomorrow I’d have practice, but yet I kept jerking back, still wanting that hard thrust that reached my chest.

He really felt like Grayson. But Grayson wasn’t even in the country to begin with.

I pray we never meet again. I wouldn’t want to know what he looked like.

But something in my chest already knew we would.