Page 21 of Dance With A Devil
“You’re not fine.” His eyes darken. “Stop pretending you are.”
I slam my hand against the bed, not hard, but enough to make a point. “I wasn’t finished.”
That smirk of his flashes, but I see the tension behind it.
“I’ll be laughing by the end of this, Karter.” I rise from the bed, moving toward him.
The smirk vanishes. His whole body tightens.
“Athens, this little stunt isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“If you say the wordpunishment, I swear I’ll punch you in the throat. I’m done being handled like I’m made of glass. When will one of you justfuckme and stop acting like I’ll crack open and bleed out?”
I stalk past him, heading toward the closet, but his hand snatches mine mid-step.
The moment he touches me, a jolt passes between us, hot and undeniable.
He doesn’t let go.
“Some of us want to fuck you,” he growls, stepping closer, “while others are ready to gut the world just to bring your smile back.”
His voice, low, fierce, aching, cuts through me like nothing else.
I glance at him, vulnerable for the first time. “I don’t know how to talk about it yet. About any of it.” I swallow. “Just… make me forget for a while.”
His eyes burn. Conflict wars in them, but so does something else.
Hunger.
“I can make you forget,” he whispers. “But when we’re done, the silence ends. You’ll tell me everything.”
That’s not a question. That’s a demand. And I don’t want to fight it.
I nod slowly. “Fi-”
But I don’t finish the word. Because his mouth crushes into mine.
I melt into him instantly, his hands tangling in my hair as the kiss deepens, devours. This isn’t sweet. It’spossession.His lips claim me like I’m already his.
One arm slides under my thighs, lifting me with ease. My legs wrap around his waist, and Ifeelhim, the length of him, hard and thick, pressing against my center.
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had pussy… your pussy,” he growls against my throat, “but I can’t wait any longer.”
My body answers before I do, arching into him, aching.
“Then don’t.”
He walks us back to the bed, eyes locked on mine like he’s already inside me in every way that matters. He drops down onto the mattress, dragging me with him, my knees bracketing his hips as I straddle him.
His voice is wrecked, rough with hunger. “I’m so fucking hard for you, Athens.” He groans, lifting his hips just enough to shove his pants down, his cock springing free, thick, flushed, leaking for me.
That sound in his throat, half growl, half gasp, sets fire to every nerve in my body.
I grin, breath hitching. “Then take whatever you want. It’s yours.”
He doesn’t need a second invitation. Gripping the base of his cock in one rough hand, he gives me a look that should come with a warning label.
“Lift up.” His tone is pure command. I rise without hesitation. “Now, lower yourself slow. Ride me like the fucking sea was made for you.”
