Dancing with the Devil (Ravens Ruin MC 3)

“Let me go,” I spit.

“Too sweet for you?” The taunting lilt of his voice contradicts the continued softness in his touch between my thighs. “Just thought I’d be nice and return the favor. Give a thank you for the epic suck off, but I don’t think nice is what you need. Is it?”

I yelp in surprise when suddenly I’m tossed onto my bed. I bounce twice, and when I land, TJ is already between my thighs. His jeans are still around his thighs and the heat of his once again thick cock arrows to my pussy like it’s one step ahead of the game.

Of their own accord, my hips swivel, and a shameful cry rushes past my lips at my inability to control my own body.

“No.” Cruel fingers grip my jaw until TJ forces me to look him in the eye. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t fucking think. And don’t you fucking dare picture anyone but me. Watch.”

Obeying his command, my eyes follow him as he slides down my body. Every ripple of his abs bumps over my clit as he makes his way down my body.

“Don’t be nice to me,” I beg.

He nods, one soft dip of his chin, and suddenly we’re on the same page.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I thought we were in tune with each other, but then the single light in the middle of my ceiling glints off the blade of his knife. I don’t even know when he picked the thing up from the ground, or maybe he keeps more than one on him at all times.

“Do you trust me?”

My head shakes.

“Smart girl.” The blade trails over the inside of my thigh, and I jerk suddenly at the misplaced tickle. “Be still, or I might hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.” I’m not daring him, but what would be the purpose of this man saving me only to nurse me back to health, then to turn around and hurt me again. “What the fuck!”

I feel a burn on my inner thigh, and when I look from his face to the wound. It’s already welling with a dot of blood.

“Don’t,” I whisper when his tongue starts at my knee, trailing a hot wet path toward the injury.

First, he cut me, now he’s going to lick my blood? This fucking changes everything.

“TJ.”

He doesn’t listen, and it only takes a split second before his tongue slowly, in one fluid motion, licks the droplets away. My pulse pounds ferociously in my clit at the sight of my blood coating his tongue before he closes his mouth and swallows. His eyes flutter closed on a groan, and it’s a long moment before he opens them again. When he does, his pupils are dilated and the devious look in his eyes sets me on fire.

“You liked that?” His tongue sweeps over the wound again, but the cut is so small a single dot of blood is all he gets. I begin to tremble with the notion that he may hurt me again so he can get more.

“I didn’t.”

“And yet,” his tongue licks higher, and the rush of his breath over my center is all I can focus on, “you’re glistening.”

“I-I’m sorry.” The apology is expected, but he frowns anyway.

“How far can I take you?”

I don’t answer him, but I’m certain I’m going to shake right off the bed with the shiver that has settled into my spine.

“This far?” The tip of his blade traces my outer lips.

“TJ,” I gasp, legitimately scared he’s going to slip and do some real damage. That thought amps up the shaking even more because more damage may be exactly what he’s after.

“This far?” he continues, ignoring my plea. The tip of his blade maps out a path over my clit. “I did promise to make you come this way.”

I’m so fucking close. The threat, the pain, his mouth so close to my core, all of it is too damn much, yet also not nearly enough.

“I remember you said you wouldn’t come.”

I whimper in duress when he pulls the knife from my skin.

“But I love a fucking challenge.”

With deft fingers, he turns the knife in his hand, pressing the hilt at my entrance.

“More than that though,” his head lowers, dangerously close to being right there, “I want to feel you, taste you on my tongue when you explode.”

His puckered lips suck at my clit the exact second he shoves the hilt of his knife into my pussy, and I see fucking stars. My body convulses, pussy sucking on his knife at the same tempo his lips work on my clit.

“Jesus keep going,” he hisses, and my body obeys for what seems like years until I’m wrung out, muscles aching as if I’d just run a marathon.

The knife and his mouth disappear, and I don’t bother opening my eyes when he shifts his weight. The clank of his belt hits my hardwood, and I expect him to pounce on me and slam his thick cock inside of me, but it doesn’t happen. When I open my eyes, all I see is his back disappearing into my bathroom.