Page 42 of Dance with the Devil

I know what he means. If

Reaching over him, I grab the blanket from off the floor. “What if we put this over us? It might be hot, but no one could see what we were doing.”

He scowls. “I should’ve thought of that before.”

“Winter never would’ve let you. Remember? The whole point was a blackmail video.”

Cross’s scowl deepens.

I lay back down on the bed, grabbing his arm, tugging him so that he can start to climb on top of me again. “I’m not worried about that. Trust me. Right now, there’s only one thing on my mind, and it’syou.”

He doesn’t have to let me tug him anywhere. If he doesn’t want to fuck me, he could easily shake his head, get up, walk to the other side of the cell, and it would be over.

Instead, Cross rises up over me. Giddy with both relief and excitement andneed, I think that he’s about to give me what I want, what we bothneed, when suddenly he pauses.

His expression is back to being concerned. “Are you sure?”

Is he serious? “I’m very sure.”

“But are you tender?” His fingers ghost over my pussy. When he draws them back, seemingly surprised to see how fucking soaked I am, his breathing kicks up a little. His voice is thick as he says, “I tried my best not to hurt you.”

I laugh, hoping that’ll be enough to wipe that slight worry from his eyes. “Please. I’m aballerina. I’ve danced on a sprained ankle and broken toes. I dealt with road rash and a bike crash. My pain tolerance is pretty high.” My hand goes up to his cheekagain. “So is yours. Don’t you think it’s time we finally get to feel good?”

Cross claps his hand over mine, keeping the connection. Never letting go, he lowers his head, taking my mouth. At the same time, he throws his leg over my hip, angling his lower half so that he can grip his cock by the base and feed it right into my waiting pussy.

I gasp into his open mouth, the slight sting from before a distant memory as the overwhelming sensation of being stuffed by him overloads every other nerve ending.

Feel good?

That feelsamazing.

Too bad it doesn’t last—and I don’t mean how eager Cross is to fuck me that he ends up coming inside of me shortly after he plucks my clit, playing my body like a pro, making me forget again that when I scream his name, someone else might’ve heard me.

But that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Tonight?

I get to have Cross, and even before I fall asleep under him, I can already feel him drifting away from me again....

FIFTEEN

SAVANNAH

GENEVIEVE

I’m glaring at the camera, holding my shoe in my hand.

Cross is watching me. He has his chin tucked into his chest, a closed-off expression on his face. His shirt is on again, which is unfortunate, and he’s sitting on the floor again, his back to the cinderblock, which is even worse.

All morning, he’s basically said three words to me: “How ya feeling?”

If he cared how I felt, he wouldn’t have waited until I passed out from a combination of endorphins and exhaustion to wiggle out of my arms, choosing to sit on the floor instead of the bed where he so carefully took my virginity.

And I know I wasn’t being fair. He’s as much of a victim as I am. More, honestly, because Ididwant to sleep with Cross. In another world, in another time, I would’ve gladly had my first time with him… but it was me he didn’t want.

Pretty words. Everything he said last night… that’s all they were. Pretty words.

So I said, “Fine,” and left it at that.

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