Page 47 of Dancing With Demons

Lifting off the chair, I pumped in her mouth—fever rising beneath my skin. For all that I said her skills were terrible, I could not give a bad review of her mouth. Hot, soft, and wet—her throat sucked me in and held me fast, refusing to let go.

“Fuck,” I gritted, eyes trying to roll up in my head.

I had fucked more women than I could count. Literally, too many for me to count unless I wanted to be here all week. All those wild, dirty fucks with partners each more experienced, willing, and desperate to please than the last.

So why was it so different with Charlotte Hunter?

Tears soaked her face. She was dangerously red—gasping and gagging as she fought to breathe. Her nails dug deep into my pants, piercing me through the fabric. All her histrionics left me doing this task on my own... and still it was the best blowjob I ever had by so wide a margin, I was about to embarrass myself.

“Shit!” I pulled out—exploding on her face.

“Kergh!” Charlotte doubled over on the carpet, coughing and hacking her lungs up. Clutching her throat, she glared at me through a mask of cum and tears—defiant to the last.

I collapsed on the armchair, my dick still twitching and spasming like mad. “I have to apologize to you, Charlotte.”

“For which horrible thing you’ve done in the last hour!? There’s so much to choose from!”

“I have to apologize”—grasping her by the arm, I lifted her up and tossed her on the bed—“for pulling a minute-man and finishing so fast. But don’t worry,” I growled, tearing my clothes off. “I’ll last much longer in the next round.”

“N-next round?”

I ate the distance between us, raking her up and down. How had such a scrumptious prize fallen into my lap? Was I going to have to do something I’d never done in my life? Say thank you.

Thank you to that irritating, red-eyed crybaby, fallen angel for kicking off another plot for inter-realm dominance that resulted in him bringing me Charlotte Hunter.

I loved to lie, but I wasn’t doing it now when I admitted I thought I’d already be tired of her by now. It’s the chasing of the prey that’s exciting. The fun’s over when it’s caught. But not this time.

Out of those asylum-chic outfits was a body sculpted by the goddess Aphrodite herself. Her velvety pale skin kept a record of my touch from her red, swollen lips to my fingerprints on her wrists. She looked like a slight wisp of a thing at first glance, but a closer look revealed lean, hard muscle rippling down her calves, and abs hidden under her shirt. But by far, the most beautiful thing about Charlotte—

I climbed on top of her and licked the mark on her shoulder.

—was that she was mine.

“Wait,” Charlotte cried as I pried open her legs. “Don’t!”

Looking down, the grin left my lips. Dotting the inside of her thigh in the most intimate place it could be, were dozens of vampire bites in various stages of healing.

I snarled, energy crackling off my skin. A surge of hate escaped me and blasted through the room, shattering the lamps.

“Ahh!” Charlotte snapped to the side, covering her face from the onslaught of flying glass. “What the hell’s the matter with you!”

“Radu,” I hissed, feeling my malevolent form rattling its cage—frantic to get out and do some leech-hunting. In the time Charlotte was “dead,” it wasn’t until Tristan told me that I found out Radu had lied about killing her and was instead keeping her hostage in his quarters.

Of course he wasn’t going to squirrel away a mortal for any reason other than a private food course, but just because it was the logical conclusion doesn’t mean it wasn’t a fatal one.

“Don’t worry, pet.” Charlotte shivered as I stroked a finger along her thigh. The fang marks slowly faded away. “He’ll die for this.”

“What?” She lifted her head, frowning at me. “Who will die? What are you talking—?”

Diving down, I buried my head between her legs—devouring her pussy as the name written on my strings of fate demanded.

“Ahh-ugh!” Surprise snagged her scream on a moan. The woman twisted like a corkscrew—kicking, failing, and squeezing my head fit to tear it off. “Ronin, stop, no!” She grabbed hold of my horns trying to pry me off—the exact opposite of the right move.

Her rough, hot-blooded grip on the most sensitive part of me was a direct signal to my cock, ordering it to attention. I was already so hard it hurt, and I hadn’t even put it in yet.

I plundered every inch of her sweet, poisoned well—not bothering to be gentle or slow about it.

“Ahh!” Charlotte cried out. The heels of her feet pummeled my back while she yanked on my horns. “Ronin, e-enough, please— Are your ears for decoration, demon?! I said get off!” She bounced her hips up and down, trying to shake me off.