Page 50 of Dance With A Devil

He hisses through his teeth. That’s my green light.

I take him in. All the way. I flatten my tongue, hollow my cheeks, and swallow him whole until the tip punches the back of my throat.

Gag reflex? Dead.

Shame? Buried.

I become the thing I was born to be, his.

Inch by inch, thrust by thrust, I let him fuck my mouth while I moan like a pornographic prayer. I mix in little licks, wet kisses, teasing sucks on the tip, soft cupping of his balls. He groans above me, hand tangled in my hair, hips starting to snap harder.

I sneak a look up. His face is raw, unfiltered, lips parted, brows scrunched like ithurtsto feel this good.

Good.

I want him ruined.

He picks up the pace. More brutal. Less patient.

That coil in him is winding tighter, and I can tell he’s about to lose it.

So I lock eyes with him.

And finish him.

He explodes with a sharp growl, cock pulsing against my tongue as his cum slides down my throat. I swallow all of it, every drop. When I pull off him, he grabs my face, kisses me hard, his taste still lingering on my lips.

“You fucking Brat,” he growls, voice ragged.

“I’d say she passed the test,” Ryan murmurs, wide-eyed, arms crossed. Fred just giggles uncontrollably beside her.

Karter doesn’t let me go. “You bet your ass she did. That mouth wasmadeto be used.”

Fred stammers, “You should seriously consider teaching a masterclass in head, girl.”

I laugh, breathless, my cheeks on fire. “I can’t believe I just did that… in front of you two.”

Karter tilts my chin, touching his forehead to mine, a rare gentleness behind the carnage. “How do you feel?”

My blood’s singing. “Like a sinner high on grace. Good. Wrong. Perfect.”

“Own it,” he whispers. “You’re ours now. And these girls? They don’t speak unless you say so.”

His hand slides to my waist. “I told Wyck we need a woman on the inside, someone who can run things with the same fire we do. I meant you. Maybe even the two of them too… if you trust them.”

Fred’s eyes sparkle. “Us? As the female version of the Devils?”

Karter smirks. “Literally just said that, Fred.”

He yanks me close again and bumps her out of the way. “You’ll need your own name.Devils of Cliffsideis taken.”

I blink. “Wait… theyknowwho you are?”

Ryan rolls her eyes. “Of course we do. I’ve worked with them before. Just not under their ‘precious’ mansion’s roof.” She mimics air quotes and drops her voice into a mocking purr. “Nooo, I get to live with Mommy Dearest and her wrinkled husband #5. He wants me to call himDaddy.I’d consider it if he looked like Karter. But he’s seventy, smells like mothballs, and probably has worms.”

I deadass choke on my laughter.

Fred howls. “Please tell me you’re writing a memoir.”