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The Devil's Mistress 111
ROXANNE POVIt was finally Thursday evening.Which meant tonight, I’d be meeting Damien’s father, the man everyone in Marseille feared. The Godfather. The Don. And to be honest, I didn’t know if I should be worried or terrified.The only other dangerous men I’d known and encountered before were nightmares I could still smell in my bones. There was Damien himself, back when I first met him as Raphaël, cold as stone and a complete menace, after I accidentally hit him with my car. Then there was Garry, the fake stepfather who wore cruelty like cologne. I could still feel him breathing down my spine, waiting for the day I’d crawl back to him, broken and obedient.And Kendrick...the sadistic psycho still out there, trying to drag me back into chains and call it love. As if I’d ever let that happen.My thoughts came to a sudden halt when the car stopped. I looked out the window, frowning at the only building standing in this deserted, gravel-covered lot. It looked like an old warehouse. Me
The Devil's Mistress 110
ROXANNE POVDamien suddenly removed his fingers entirely, leaving me empty and aching. I let out a frustrated scream against my hand. Before I could protest or reach back for him, he flipped me onto my back roughly, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them above my head on the bed. "Shut up and listen."I glared up at him, my face flushed and my lips parted as I tried to catch my breath. He smirked down at me, his free hand reaching between my legs to play with my soaked pussy. "You're gonna come all over my fingers in three seconds." He declares. "One..."He slid two fingers inside me quickly, his thumb pressing hard on my clit. "Two..." His fingers started moving fast and deep, hitting that spot inside me which drove me crazy. My back arches off the bed as I try to scream out his name. "Three." I cried out his name loudly as my orgasm hit me hard, my pussy clamping down around his fingers while my entire body trembled underneath him. He kept fucking me through it until I was compl
The Devil's Mistress 109
ROXANNE POV "I love seeing you in my clothes." His voice dropped lower as I settled against his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. We were now inside the bedroom, the door closed as he held me closely in a sitting position on the bed with my back pressing against his chest."Maybe I should wear them more often, since you won't." I glanced back at him and he chuckled softly in my ear.His lips began pressing gentle kisses to my shoulder and neck, marking me with his touch as he whispered. "You're mine. All fucking mine. And don't you ever forget it, kitten."I gasped softly, giving a small nod as his hands started to wander, one sliding to caress my bare skin under the shirt I was wearing. The other gripped my hip firmly as he pressed a kiss to my neck.Then, his hands slowly inched upwards, pushing the shirt higher to reveal more of my skin. I bit my lips as he nipped at my neck with his voice a low rumble. "Spread your legs over mine." It was more of a command than a
The Devil's Mistress 108
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POVI headed upstairs and paused outside Angelina’s room, cracking the door just enough to peek in. Her nightlight was on and she was tucked under her sheets, sound asleep with her arms wrapped tightly around a pink teddy bear. I stood there a second longer than I meant to, then I closed the door gently and headed for my own room. The bed was untouched, no sign of Roxanne. Her side was still neat, the sheets undisturbed. I didn’t need to guess, she had a habit of sneaking off at night for snacks. I stripped and headed into the bathroom, letting the steam fill the space as I stepped into the shower.Hot water hit my skin, rinsing off the blood, gunpowder, and gasoline. My kill count didn't matter since none of them walked out.Fifteen minutes later, I stepped back into the room, steam trailing off my bare shoulders. Still no sign of Roxanne.I ran the towel through my hair again, drying it half-heartedly, and pulled on a pair of black sweatpants. The clock on the wall
The Devil's Mistress 107
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POVThe hum of the engine was the only thing that kept me from slipping too far into my head.I sat in the passenger seat of the lead SUV, eyes locked on the GPS coordinates blinking red on the dashboard as we moved through East Bay. One hand rested on my rifle across my lap, the other lazily drumming against the door.The boys behind me were locked in, loaded and ready in the two SUVs with their headlights off. "Showtime." I muttered, clicking the safety off the moment we turned the final corner. No cops dared patrol these streets after sundown, not unless they were paid off or suicidal.The convoy of black SUVs screeched to a halt in front of the compound, an old dockyard warehouse turned gang stronghold. The kind of place cocky street rats thought they could build an empire in. One they thought could stand independent from Raphaël oversight. They were wrong.I stepped out, feeling the cool bite of salt air sweep through the open lot. My bulletproof vest was snug b
The Devil's Mistress 106
DAMIEN RAPHAËL POVThe water was choppy, rough enough to keep the cowards off the sea, but nothing I couldn’t handle. My hands stayed firm on the steering wheel of the motorboat, the wind cutting across my face as we cruised toward the drop point. I wore my aviator shades, not for fashion, but because I liked to see clearly without squinting like some amateur.Behind me, a few of my old man’s loyal foot soldiers sat with their guns resting between their knees, their heads bobbing slightly with the boat’s rhythm. The cargo was strapped down, three crates, locked tight, marked only with black tape. I didn’t ask what was inside. I already knew. This was business, and in my world, business never asked too many questions.As we neared the dock, I saw the buyer and his men waiting. Ten of them, maybe more, all dressed with open shirts, sunglasses and cigars. The type of guys who drank scotch for breakfast and bragged about the time they “almost died” smuggling shit through Marseille. They
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