Page 72 of Dancing With Demons

Just like that. No preamble. No foreplay. No opening pumps.

And while I was mid-orgasm, Ronin was off. Pumping—pounding—my pussy like his personal fuck toy. He gave no thought to going easy on me. I knew with absolute certainty that my agreement didn’t matter anymore. He was going to ruin me from head to toe, leaving nothing left for Santino or Tristan.

“Oh, gods, yes,” I shrieked. “Ahh, fuck!”

Ronin was no less quiet than me. His grunts, groans, and growls increased with his pace, filling me with a feeling that should’ve been anger or hatred. Oh, how I wished it was. But no. The only thing I felt at hearing him come apart at the seams... was turned on.

I tightened my walls, clamping down on his cock.

“Agh,” he bellowed, tipping us both over on the seat. “Fuck’s sake!”

I smirked. “It occurs to me that someone as desperate as you are to confirm their ownership over someone is just covering up for the fact that their own balls are in a vise—my vise. I want to hear you say that you belong to me, Ronin Belphe.” I clamped down tighter, ripping a groan out of him as his eyes rolled up in his head. “And be quick about it.”

The world spun. Blinking, my mind couldn’t connect how one minute I was face-to-face with him, and then flat on my stomach with my legs free. A small eep escaped me, when he popped my hips off the bed.

“I belong to you, Charlotte.”

I had enough time for the shock to blow my eyes wide, before he lost control.

There was no other way to describe it. No other words. No other adjectives. The man buried deep inside me, and all sense of civility and control snapped.

My cries were straight screams, echoing through the luxurious dorm room. Ronin pumped so hard and fast, he was barely out before he was thrusting back in, hitting heretofore undiscovered angles, and exploding heat and fierce, fiery arousal deep within my body.

All reason abandoned me. Somewhere in the part of my mind still functioning, it was screaming I had to use this chance now that my legs were free. I had to kick him off. Steal the antidote. Run away. I was no one’s cum bucket, least of all Ronin Belphe’s.

He struck that spot, and reason fled—taking its plots and plans with it.

Railing me from behind, Ronin latched on to the back of my neck, sucking and teasing my skin.

It was too much. I was already a raw, exposed nerve from multiple orgasms and the lingering effects of the potion, but his mouth on my body while he filled me up to bursting was a battle I already lost.

Ronin broke the limits of possibility and pumped faster still, hammering that spot like a madman.

I was shaking, raw, and wet. Strength ditched me, leaving me putty in his hands—helpless to every thrust and buck. I felt his muscles coil like a viper as he lifted me off the bed. His pinnacle was coming just as fast as mine.

He spilled inside me, filling me to the brim with seed as my pussy gushed its own warm arousal.

Ronin collapsed on top of me—both of us sweaty, spent messes.

“Say it.” Nuzzling my cheek, Ronin drifted down and captured my lips—kissing me slow and sweet until my mind went numb. No furious making out, or lip-biting pleasure. He softly licked and teased my tongue—luring it into gentle submission. “Say you’re mine, Charlie.”

I started. Charlie? Not Charlotte? Not Hunter? And not pet? Ronin used my nickname. The one only used by my friends... and the people I loved.

I’d be honest, it moved me like nothing else he said or did. Lips parting, my reply tumbled out with no hesitation or uncertainty.

“Never, Ronin.” I looked him in the eyes. “I’ll never say it, and it’ll never be true.”

Later That Night

RONIN

“The woman is more trouble than you ever thought a mortal could be?” I raged. “Can you believe she dared to blackmail me? Me!” I tossed my head, sighing. “It was so fucking hot.”

“I’d definitely have paid to see that,” Tristan agreed. Lining up his arm, he wound back and threw the dart with all his strength. It flew straight and true for my left eye—

—then ricocheted off an invisible barrier and struck the mutt dusting the mantel.

He collapsed and didn’t get up.