❝So, you think you danced with the Devil and you love him now?❞
𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓.
𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
A book where the Devil ends up being the savior.
This is not your usual love story. It's a...
It took me a couple seconds to figure out what I really wanted to say. There was a lot I wanted to scream at him about, but I felt too numb to even say a word.
"M-Michael, can you come get me?" I stutter out, "and c-can you bring some clothes too?"
"Of course, anything for my girl," I imagine him smirking right about now, "did you miss me?"
"That depends."
"Well I did," there was a pause, "I love you, Sahara."
Right when he said that I hung up. I can't lie and say I hated his guts. Well I do now kind of, but over these months of knowing him I grew to love him. I'm starting to accept the fact that I might get murdered tonight, my whole life was going to shit anyways. Why can't he just leave me alone?
I throw my phone and keys onto the bed and slip off my shoes and heading off to take a shower. I let the water run, stripping from my blood soiled clothes, throwing them into corner. I put the slip of paper with Michael's ex wife's phone number inside my phone case so I wouldn't lose it. I get into the shower and the water washes away all the dried blood, sweat, and tears from my skin. I close my eyes, not wanting to waste this moment of peace that I may never have again. Soon the curtains were pulled and cold hands come in contact with my wet skin.
"You didn't say you love me back on the phone, babygirl," his face nuzzled in the crook of my neck, dragging his lips up to my ear, gently biting the lobe. He closed the space between us with his bare front against my back. His hands that were once on my waist moved up to cup my breasts.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"How did you get in?" I trembled.
"God, not being able to touch you for days killed me," he whispered in my ear, not answering my question. You weren't killed, you killed.
His left hand now trailing down to my intimate area, teasing my outer labia with his fingers. I moan, raising my hand behind me to caress the side of his face. I shouldn't be wanting this. Not right now... but I can't help it.
He turns my body around and pushes me back up against the cold tile wall. Both of his hands were pressed against the wall by both sides of my head and the water was now wetting his curls, making them stick to the front of his face. He stared into my eyes slowly leaning in to kiss me. I close my eyes and wait for him to do so, but he doesn't.
I open my eyes back up in confusion only to see a smirking Michael crouching down onto his knees. His hands moved to grip my thighs, spreading them apart, not once breaking our eye contact.
"I've had dreams of what it would be like to get a taste of you," he said, sliding his fingers all over my wetness. I let out a small gasp. Why was he making me so wet at a time like this?
"But, sadly I'm only going to be getting a taste test today," he whispered before placing his fingers in his mouth, sucking my wetness off, "sweet like candy."
