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“Cali, stop teasing me and suck my dick before I choke you with it.”
Biting my cheek so I didn’t laugh, I looked up at him and without further preamble, I swirled my tongue around his tip before swallowing him whole.
He made a sound in his throat and tangled a hand in my hair. I wrapped both my hands around his base and worked them up and down in succession with my mouth, toying with his piercing every time I glided up.
“Just like that. You look beautiful with my dick in your mouth.” I felt the muscles in his thighs tense. His grip on my locks grew tighter the faster I worked and harder I sucked.
He started fucking my mouth, forcing me to repeatedly deep throat, holding my head in place. I let go of his dick and gripped his thighs to keep myself up.
Doing my best not to gag and choke on the saliva rapidly building up and running down my chin, I slurped what I could, occasionally coughing around him, feeling the rest coat his balls. My eyes watered and spilled over. I sucked harder as he thrust down my throat.
He didn’t warn me before he came. The only sign I had was the hair along my scalp feeling like it was about to rip out and his dick jerking a second before his semen coated my taste buds.
I caught and swallowed every last creamy drop, flicking my tongue out just to be sure I’d milked him bone dry. His dick left my mouth with a wet pop.
I rolled my lips together, watching him tuck it back in his pants, and wiped my saliva drenched hands on my jeggings.
In the blink of an eye, he had me on my feet and his mouth on mine, no doubt tasting himself. Not seeming to care, he cupped my ass and pulled me into him, nipping my lower lip.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine and he held my face in his hands.
I dared imagine a future with him, something I’d never had the guts to do because happily ever after wasn’t meant for girls like me.
Regardless, whatever happened, I knew walking away from him wasn’t an option.
I wasn’t ever letting him go, even when keeping him meant I’d soon be standing beside him in a war where I would be forced to partake in a bloodbath, fully embracing the dirty twisted bitch he always saw me as.
Part Two
So if the devil ever asks you to dance,
You better say never,
because a dance with the devil may last you forever.
-IMMORTAL TECHNIQUE-
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It looked like something out of an apocalyptic film.
Me and Arlen had matching facial expressions as we eyed the monstrous machines in front of us.
“When did you do this?” I asked, glancing over to where Romero stood.
“I had it done the day you got here,” he responded absentmindedly, shoving the last duffel bag into the hatch.
It was still the same jeep he’d always had; it’d just undergone some drastic changes.
There was a flood bar on top. The already large tires had been swapped out for a set of larger ones that slightly extended away from the frame. An identical jeep was parked behind it, loaded and ready to go.
There were seven of us in total. Cobra and Grimm had been helping Romero. Arlen stood by my side, Dhal and the green eyed man I’d seen the night before who I now knew was named Bryce, stood off to the side.
The sun beat down on us remorselessly as Romero gave some last minute instructions to Cobra, who would be riding in the second jeep with Dhal and Bryce.
“This is like the start of a bad fuckin joke. Five psychopaths, a redneck and a fugitive go on a road trip,” Arlen mumbled.
“Let’s go,” Romero called out before I could ask her who the fugitive was.
