Fucker cowers under her gaze. "N-no, I swear it's not true! I didn't do anything, please, you have to believe me!"
Devon smirks. "Liars get punished. Isn't that right, Brick?"
"Always." My hands clench into fists as I stalk toward Fucker. He's still lying, even now, the worthless piece of shit. I grab his hair and yank his head back, baring his throat. "Perhaps you'll be more forthcoming after I skin you alive."
Fucker screams, writhing against his restraints.
Devon watches with a predatory gleam, blowtorch at the ready.
"Please! I'll tell you everything, just stop, please stop!" The bastard dissolves into hysterical sobs.
Devon sighs. "How disappointing. I was hoping for more of a challenge." She shrugs, flicking on the blowtorch again. "But if you insist on giving up so easily..."
Fucker’s shrieks echo through the basement, like music to my ears. Tonight, he'll get exactly what he deserves.
And Devon and I will have our fun.
After a few more ministrations with the blowtorch’s cruel flames, Fucker passes out, his ruined body slumped in its restraints.
Devon wipes her brow. "Well, that was entertaining."
I chuckle and squeeze her shoulder. "It was. You're a natural."
Devon grins, sharp and wicked, her eyes gleaming. "I learned from the best." She glances at Fucker and her lip curls with contempt. "He didn't last long."
"Pathetic," I scoff. A wry smirk tugs at my lips as I notice Devon’s knuckles, stained crimson with blood. She's been training again, for moments just like this. "Lucky for us, we have all night."
Devon's eyes darken, meeting mine. “Oh really? What did you have in mind?"
A low chuckle rumbles in my chest. "Patience, Devon," I growl. "We’ve only justbegun."
Fucker stirs with a groan. Devon's eyes light up as she turns toward him, blowtorch at the ready. She grins as she fires it up again.
Fucker screams, thrashing against his bindings in a futile attempt to escape.
I watch, entranced, as she works the flame over his already scorched flesh. His screams rise in pitch, ragged pleas for mercy tumbling from his lips.
Devon ignores them, her focus intent upon her task.
The scent of charred flesh fills the air, stronger now. I breathe it in deep, arousal stirring low in my gut at the heady combination of pain and fear.
Devon glances at me from under her lashes, her eyes dark with desire to inflict more pain. "Like what you see?"
Fucker’s screams fade to whimpers, his pleas trailing off into incoherent babbling.
Devon clicks her tongue in annoyance, switching off the blowtorch, and shakes her head. "Pathetic."
"It seems our friend lacks stamina," I remark dryly.
Devon huffs out an irritated breath, and crosses her arms over her chest. "I was just starting to have some real fun." She glares at Fucker, her eyes narrowed. "He's no fun when he's unconscious."
Amusement flickers through me at Devon's disgruntled tone. "There's always next time."
Devon's lips curve into a slow, wicked smile. She leans up on her tiptoes, whispering in my ear, "Promise?"
A throaty chuckle sounds behind us. We break apart to find Angel descending the stairs, one brow arched in amusement.
"Don't let me interrupt," she says lightly. There's a teasing lilt to her tone and her lips twitch at the corners.