Page 70 of Dancing With Demons

My cry choked on a groan, caught in my throat as he closed over my nipple. His tongue teased and tortured the little nub to a hardened pebble, standing it to attention, then punishing its wantonness. Sharp canines scraped the delicate flesh—shooting equal parts pain and pleasure straight to my lower belly, and loosening the chains on the gate.

I snapped up, balancing on clasped hands and the heels of my feet as the next orgasm shredded me to bits.

Smirking like a jackass, Ronin winked at me as he said, “And that’s three.”

I flopped back down—limp and weak like an overcooked noodle, legs clamping on him. “Ronin... please...”

It was too much. My mind was melting. My body was on fire. No one could handle this kind of sensory overload without it resulting in a lobotomy.

“Stop,” I cried. “I can’t take it. It’s too much... give me the antidote.”

“I told you...” Ronin pushed his fingers in deeper still, then spread them wide. “Your antidote is right here.”

“Ah!” My pulse raced as he found my clit.

Ronin rubbed the bundle of nerves between my legs like he was pouring out all his frustrations at me. Hard, fast, rough—spots danced before my eyes that made me think I was seeing stars.

“You’re mine, Hunter,” he growled. “Say it.”

I wriggled, kicked, and flailed in my binds—my body tingling and prickling. Shivering and shuddering. How could someone I hated so much make me feel this good?

“Ronin, I—” I roared up, snarling in his face. “Will never say it.”

He laughed. “You tell me to stop, but then you challenge me on. Make up your mind.”

“What is that supposed to—?”

Ronin dropped between my thighs, and devoured my pussy. My legs snapped around his head—mouth open in a silent, jaw-cracking moan. Ronin went down on me like a feral beast. Getting head was stimulating enough, but receiving it while under the effects of the potion was a whole different game, with all the rules blown off the hinges. I felt every single bump and ridge of his tongue as it explored my folds.

The ice cream had melted, and now he was licking every single drop of it up—nothing was going to waste.

He bobbed and dipped his head from side to side—both drilling me and tormenting my clit. Crashing, surging waves of pleasure flooded my body over and over again. I couldn’t catch my breath from the first wave before the next was bowling me over, drowning me in ecstasy.

“Oh, fuck,” I screamed when his tongue struck a head-scrambling, fire-igniting spot within me.

Orgasm number four came screaming out of me, twisting me up so hard and tight, I cut my palms clenching my wrists and yanked bruises around my ankles that wouldn’t fade for days.

“Say it,” Ronin whispered—his voice a snake charmer’s melody.

I came down just as hard as I went up, and I was spent. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I didn’t even have the strength to tell him to screw off again.

Ronin didn’t let my silence slow him down. He palmed my breast, taking my poor nipple between his fingertips. Then a finger disappeared inside my ass.

My eyes blew wide—wider than my gaping mouth. “Uh, uh, uh! Oh, fuck, AH!”

His finger stretched my puckered hole. His tongue plundered my pussy. His thumb rolled my nipple. Potion or no potion, I never stood a chance.

Tension rose to a fever pitch, boiling over with hot, sweaty, limb-trembling pleasure, and I exploded.

Screaming myself hoarse, my fifth and final orgasm exploded out of me... and he hadn’t even put it in yet.

“Holy fucking shit,” is what I tried to say, but unintelligible mumbling is what actually came out.

“Well, it looks like I win.” Triumph laced his voice. “I get to do this now...”

Ronin snapped his fingers, and my phone appeared in the palm of his hand.

My jaw dropped when he crushed it in his grip. “Are you kidding me?” I croaked, finding my voice fast. “Are you telling me you could’ve done that the whole time?!”