Page 38 of Dance With A Devil
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning, because she’s making it real fucking hard not to throw her down and claim her all over again.
She moves to the bed, dressing slowly, intentionally, putting on each item like a siren baiting a monster. And I’m the fucking monster.
When she slides that skirt up those bare legs?
“Where are your panties?” I already know, but I want to hear her say it.
She looks at me over her shoulder, eyes sparkling with sin. “Karter said it would be best if I didn’t wear any.” Then bends, bends, and puts on her shoes.
I clench my fists.
“Stop playing games with me, Athens.”
“I’m not playing with you, Wyck.” Her voice is sugar-laced venom.
She’s going to be the death of me.
She doesn’t even flinch when I move behind her. Doesn’t stop me from lifting her skirt and palming her ass.
She even moans for me.
Thinks this is for her.
Wrong.
I pull my hand back and let it crack across her bare ass.
She yelps, startled.
“You want to play games?” I hiss against her ear. “Then you better get used to getting burned.”
I bend down, kiss the skin I just reddened, and then bite down. Hard.
“Wyck!”
Before she can turn, I’m already gone. Slipping from the room like a ghost who just marked his grave.
Smirking to myself, I stalk toward the stairs… until a voice calls out.
“Wyck.”
Karter.
Of course.
I turn to face him, jaw already ticking.
He jogs up, hands in his pockets like he’s trying not to start another fight.
“I won’t apologize for fucking her.” His eyes meet mine. “She doesn’t belong to just you anymore.”
I see red. I want to knock his fucking teeth in again.
He smirks anyway.
“I can see you want to hit me. Go ahead. But you’ll have to hit us all, because she’s ours.”
Ours.
