The Intern - Serena Akeroyd

One

Devlin

It was the bite that grounded me, stirred me. Had need slapping me in the face and punching me in the gut.

The bite that turned an average hook-up into something intoxicating. Something delicious. Something raw.

I needed that.

I needed to feel the fierce edge of those teeth against my bottom lip. Needed the pain to make me feel something after this clusterfuck of a day.

He didn’t let go, either. He dug in, jerking me with him, and if I didn’t want to lose it, I had no choice but to follow.

And I did.

I followed.

I’d be crazy not to, wouldn’t I?

Not because I felt as if he’d tear it off, but because my dick was pounding from that alone, and my body was so beyond ready for more.

He relented, finally, giving way to the fact that my lip belonged to me and not to him, but only for a second. He thrust his tongue inside the hot cavern of my mouth, dragging his against mine, stirring sensations into being that I’d never bloody felt before. His aggression was frantic, and it stirred a need in me that had me groaning into him as he shoved me against the wall of the dark room.

His hands reached for mine, pinning them above my head, forcing me to stay still.

To relent to his will.

To not be the CEO of fucking Astley Publishing.

To be Devlin.

Fuck.

I shuddered as he pushed into my chest, and the scent of his sweat was phenomenal. Me, the clean freak, was in love with the salty tang that was peppered with lemongrass and mint. He smelled like a cocktail I wanted to dive headfirst into. I wanted to roll around in it, cover myself in his essence. Have my nose shoved into sheets that were coated in him.

But this wasn’t to be.

This was a hook-up.

A tawdry dark room in VICE, one of my pet projects that no one knew I owned, that I visited when the need for dick became something I couldn’t control.

I was Devlin Astley.

Devlin Astley, Viscount of Lynden, heir to the goddamn duchy of Keighly, could never like cock.

But in the shadows... In the depths of the night... In a club that was my dirty little secret, I could.

I could like whatever the fuck I wanted.

Be whomever I wanted.

Among the corridor of dark rooms, I could hear the sounds of men fucking just above the throbbing beats from the main club, and as sight was denied me, my hearing was working at fever pitch, making those grunts and the EDM feel like they were in my veins. In my body. Pumping me up, stirring me, rushing me with adrenaline that I wanted to burn off on this stranger.

His cock was big. I could feel the log against my belly, and wanted that ramming into me with the same ferocity as his kiss. I could already feel the burn in my ass, knew I’d feel that ache there tomorrow, and I wanted it so bloody much that I stopped letting him maul me. Instead, I shoved back, pushed forward so that he was against the wall this time, with me covering him.

He let me too. That surprised me. I’d almost wanted to tussle away in this darkened corner of VICE, but he allowed me to shove my dick against the flat planes of his stomach, allowed me to grind it against him, rocking my hips back and forth like I could get off that way.

I shoved my face into his throat, sucking on the tender flesh that scented of the aftershave I could drown in, and I nipped him. Hard. Enough for him to grunt. Enough for him to pause. To process.

To recognize it was a taunt.

He liked it.

I knew he did.

He wanted more.

I could feel it.

His stillness preempted what I’d hoped for—he twisted his arm and released himself from my hold, before he reached down and cupped my cock through my slacks. I’d come straight from the office, desperate for release, to be anything other than Devlin fucking Astley, so the fabric was soft, easy enough for him to shape me through it. He thrust his tongue against mine once more, dragging a moan from me as he cupped me, then, he freed his other hand and went to work on my zipper.

I groaned as skin met skin and he jacked me off, making no bones about it—being as firm and hard with his grip as he was with his bite. There was something no nonsense about him, like the

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