Page 57 of Dance With A Devil

“Wyck!”

“Shut up and take what I give.”

The wet sounds of her cunt grow louder, filthy music in the booth’s shadows. She rocks, chasing release, walls clenching my fingers like a fist.

I bend, lick the curve of her throat, bite hard enough to brand. “You’re not going back to Josie,” I growl against her skin. “You live with us now. With me.”

“Wyck!”

“Not a request. Obey.” I bite again, harder, drawing a muffled scream.

“I-I understand, please.”

“That’s my girl.” My thumb finds her clit, brutal circles. “Now tumble for me. Over the cliff we rule.”

I nip her ear, voice a razor. “Come on my fucking fingers, you dirty little slut.”

Her body breaks, hips jerking, heat flooding my hand. A strangled cry rips from her throat.

“Oh God, Wyck!”

I keep working her until every tremor is wrung out and she collapses against me, spent, marked, and utterly mine.

The Devils of Cliffside just claimed another piece of the night, and I’m still starving.

“You’ve never looked more fucking beautiful than you do now,” I growl into the crook of her neck, “with my fingers buried deep in that tight, perfect cunt.”

She shudders, pulsing around me as the orgasm rides out slow and sticky. I savor every twitch, every helpless sound she gives me. When her body starts to come down, I drag my fingers out, glistening with her.

Without needing to ask, my filthy girl opens wide, lips parted like a prayer, and sucks her own release off my fingers with slow, hungry pulls.

“Greedy little thing,” I murmur, tapping her lips. “Save some for me.”

She lets go. I don’t waste a second before sliding my fingers into my mouth, tasting her on my tongue. Pure fucking sin.

As much as I’d rather stay buried in this moment, watching her dazed, breasts exposed, soul cracked wide open, I force myself to fix her top. I reclasp her bra, drag the fabric back into place, even though I want to rip it off all over again.

Then a cough breaks the spell.

She goes rigid, eyes wide. “I don’t mean to interrupt…” Moe’s voice cracks as she slides our food onto the table and scurries off, biting back a grin. Cute.

Athens sits up, flushed and ruined in the best way, trying to compose herself. “She knows what we were doing, doesn’t she?”

I tilt my head, eyes sharp. “Anyone with a working brain knows what I was doing to you.”

Her little scowl returns, and fuck, I almost smile. Then she says something that cuts deeper than a knife. “How many other girls have you brought to this very spot… and done the same thing to?”

The words don’t sting, they detonate.

I glare at her, heart thudding in my ears. “None.” It hits her. I watch it land, how her expression falls, how she realizes she’s fucked up. “You think I do this with just anyone?” I hiss. “You think I’d waste this booth,this night, on anyone that wasn’t you?”

A muscle ticks in my jaw. I’m fighting back something feral, something possessive. Then the devil in me surfaces.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Little Fox… but you’re the only one who’lleversit here with me.”

She softens. Snuggles back into me like she’s always belonged there. “I’m glad. Do you mind if I eat now?”

I should make her beg, punish her for doubting me, but I let it go. “Dig in.”