Page 107 of Dance of Devils

I’ve spent the last year with a duffel bag for a closet, which I kept in Pearl's trunk.

But then, something tugs at me. Namely, my lifelong issues with taking handouts.

“I…thank you,” I say quietly. “But you really don’t have to?—”

“I’m choosing to.”

I swallow as my eyes drag up to his. “I don’t have the money to pay you ba?—”

“You’re familiar with the concept of a gift, yes?”

My lips twist. “A place to stay is one thing. But a closet full of clothes?—”

“I’m going to make this simple,” Kir says with a sigh. “I’m buying you clothes. You can choose not to wear them, but I’m still going to be buying them, and putting them in your closet. I’m also going to be covering any and all of the rest of your expenses, including your stepfather’s legal necessities.”

I blink, my pulse skipping as I stare at him.

“Kir—”

“If you were under the impression that this was a discussion or a debate, allow me to redress that assumption.”

I can feel my cheeks simmering as my teeth roll my lips. But it’s alsoveryclear that he’s right: this isn’t a debate at all. It’s just what’s happening.

And maybe you should just be okay with that, for once?

Kir’s eyes stay locked on mine. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock. I swear I just passed out last night.”

He smiles, a hint of smug devilishness in his eyes. “Imagine that.”

I blush fiercely. “I slept amazingly, though.” I shake my head. “A real bed. Who would’ve thought?”

He smiles, andgoddammit, it’s hot.

And I’m feeling freer than I have in a long, long time.

Something sparks inside me, my heart beating faster as heat throbs in my core. I slowly walk toward where he’s leaning against the counter, my lip catching between my teeth as I slink right up to him.

Kir growls quietly and slides one of his hands over my hip.

“I slept well enough,” I say quietly, taking a nervous breath. “But I was lonely…”

My hands go to his chest, rubbing the pulse-heatingly hard muscles beneath his dress shirt, then his rippling six-pack.

My hand pushes lower, drifting down to his belt buckle.

“Verylonely?—”

He abruptly takes my hand and yanks it away. Instantly, mortification floods through me.

Did I read this wrong? I mean the man pinned me to the bed last night and went down on me, giving me the biggest—and second real—orgasm of my life.

He told me I lived here now. That this house was my house. So?—

Then something else from last night slides into my thoughts.

“You’re not ready for the way I fuck, babygirl.”