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She had never taken the full length of him all the way down her throat, but now she was determined to try. Wrapping one of her hands at his base, she sucked the tip of him into her mouth, making his hips buck forward with a curse and sliding a few more inches between her lips. He used the hand in her hair to gently guide himself even deeper, and she took it greedily. She brought her unoccupied hand up to rest on his thigh for balance as she took him further and further one inch at a time, until he hit the back of her throat. “Fuck, angel,” he panted. “Your mouth feels like fucking heaven.” She
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“What did you offer for this?” “Nothing important.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” “He’s being modest.” Jasper smiled, though it was not necessarily kind. “He gave up three years of his memories for this information. When you get back into bed, you should thank him nice and hard—”
“You aren’t even a little curious?” The slit in the center of his eyes widened, black swallowing his ruby-colored irises. “About what I can give you that he can’t?” She swallowed. Truthfully, she was curious, but probably not for the reasons he assumed. And as if he saw that very thought in her eyes, he laughed. “That’s right,” he purred. “Just say the word, sweetheart. If you don’t ask me to touch you, I won’t.” She hardened her heart to what she was about to do. “Kiss me. Touch me.” Wicked laughter rumbled in Sinclair’s chest as he granted her request, bringing her lips to his and sweeping
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Without another word, he kissed her again and pulled up the side of her skirt to slip his hand beneath them, pushing two fingers inside of her when he reached her core. Curling them forward with a beckoning motion to hit that sensitive spot deep within her, he used the pad of his thumb to rub her clit at the same time. Her body barely reacted, the pleasure so much less intense than it had been with Blackwell.
“Oh, it didn’t look all that bad from here,” a sultry, feminine voice said from the right. Ophelia whipped her head to find Rayea leaning a hip against the wall, watching them. Sinclair gave the other Devil a languid smile in greeting. “Then you have him,” Ophelia spat as she straightened her skirts to leave. “Been there, done that,” Rayea remarked. “You’re missing a good time. But I understand. Blackwell just has something about him, doesn’t he? Those eyes, that mouth, that tongue—”
“And what about Luci’s?” Leon pressed on. They all shifted their gazes to Luci, whose dress was a sunny yellow. Baker hesitated now. “A light coral color,” he finally answered. “Are you stupid?” Cade glared at Baker. “No, he’s colorblind,” Leon said. “I remember once, at dinner, you said something about how it was strange that there were pink apples here—except the apples in question were very much yellow. You’re yellow-blue colorblind.”
Baker paled a bit as he watched them all hit false. He tried to switch his answer, but it was too late. They glanced around at each other in anticipation, Cade’s smile never budging, and for a long, tense, moment nothing happened at all. Then the pillar above Baker slammed down to the ground, crushing him to smithereens and splattering blood across the room.
“That’s… that’s false, isn’t it?” Leon pressed. “It’s true,” Ophelia spoke for Luci. “Answer and let’s move on.” Leon’s expression turned pained. “Luci, no. It’s against the rules to fall in love here. It’s—” “Press your fucking button,” Cade commanded. Leon pressed true. Luci began to cry.
When his false button sank down, the shrieking began. Beau’s was hysterical, his desperation a torture to listen to, and Ophelia plugged her ears as best she could. Beau soiled himself as he begged and keened to be let out, trying to form the words to summon the Devil for a bargain—but he couldn’t quite get them out and it was much too late. Ophelia closed her eyes as the stone came down and crushed him. And when she reopened them, even Cade—Cade—was sobbing in horror.
“I want to go home,” Luci sobbed. “I’m done. I’m done.” “Luci, don’t,” Leon pleaded. “We’re so close. We’re—” “You don’t love me,” Luci whispered, and Ophelia’s heart ached at the devastation on the girl’s face. “And I cannot bear being here a second longer. I, Lucinda Veil, surrender to Phantasma.” Within seconds, the Devil, Phoebe, appeared. “Time to go,” Phoebe stated as she took Luci by the shoulder.
“Do we really need to have this conversation?” she asked. “Which one of them told you?” “Rayea got to me first. But, rest assured, Sinclair didn’t pass up the opportunity to taunt me with all the salacious details.” His green eyes darkened. “You let him touch you.” Now she was angry. “And? We’re only business partners, remember? Who I do and don’t let touch me is, therefore, none of your concern.”
“Vivi, this is Blackwell.” Ophelia gestured to the Ghost who was watching them with intrigue. “Blackwell, this is my sister. Genevieve Grimm.” Genevieve held her hand out to him, and he bowed formally at the waist as he took it and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Suck-up.”
“What about—” Genevieve began as if neither of them had spoken, but was suddenly interrupted when something small and ghostly popped in by her feet. “Oh! Fluffy! You’re back.” “Fluffy?” Ophelia and Blackwell questioned in sync.
Genevieve snorted. “I’m sure you are after all that energy the two of you probably burned earlier.” Ophelia’s face heated for the millionth time in the last hour, but Blackwell was grinning like a fiend. He stepped up next to Ophelia, reaching over to brush a piece of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear as he told her, “I enjoy your sister immensely.”
“I’ve got to say, he’s creepy, but in a deliciously hot sort of way, you know?” Genevieve said. “I can’t say that I do,” Blackwell deadpanned.