Page 49 of Dance With A Devil
I should sayno.
But instead, “Yes.”
What the fuck did I just say?
Before I can even question it, Karter’s fingers close around my wrist and yank me to my feet. My barstool screeches back, girls scattering like shadows in his wake.
“Oh shit,” Ryan cackles behind us. “By the look in his eyes, sis, your mouth is about to take a savage fucking.” She pauses. “Fuck. I shouldn’t watch.”
Then I call her bluff, “Chicken.”
She shoves past with a hiss. “Momma didn’t raise no punk. Move.”
I laugh, loud and wild, the sound bouncing off the club walls as we make our way to the bathroom.
Karter kicks open the door like he owns it, which he basically does, and gestures for me to step inside.
“Wait, what if someone comes in?” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
Do I care?
No. Not really. The thought actually turns me on.
He leans in, kisses my forehead like some fucked-up prince. “Be right back.”
The door swings shut behind him, and Ryan leans against the wall like she’s watching a pre-show.
“You’re really about to do this? In here?” Her voice is breathless, intrigued, like she’s waiting for permission to live vicariously through me.
“Yes,” I breathe. “For a few reasons. One, I want to know how to make it better. Two… being watched turns me the fuck on.”
“Hello, voyeurism kink!” she practically screams, hand lifted for a high five.
I slap it. Hard.
Footsteps echo. Karter’s back, face wicked. “No one will interrupt us.”
Of course they won’t. Not when he’s on the warpath.
He doesn’t waste time. Doesn’t even speak. Just grabs my face in those big tattooed hands anddevoursmy mouth. When he pulls back, he whispers against my lips, “Assume the position, Ms. Walker.”
He strips off his shirt and throws it on the floor like a goddamn offering. I drop to my knees without hesitation, not even blinking.
“Open that filthy little mouth,” he commands, already unbuttoning his pants.
Ryan gags. “Dude, I donotwanna see your dick.”
Without looking away from me, Karter snaps, “Then get the fuck out.”
She doesn't move.
Smart girl.
He grins down at me like the devil I know he is. “Don’t be shy, Brat. Show them what a throat trained by Devils can do.”
God help me, I love it when he talks like that. It flips a switch in me that I can’t turn off.
I reach for him, wrapping my fingers around his cock, thick and already hard. My mouth waters. I lick the tip slowly, teasing it, letting my spit dribble down his length like a promise.
