Devourer of Men (Devourer, #1)

by Nikki St. Crowe

He rolls his eyes at me. Bloody hell he has the fucking best eye roll. So sexy and rolly.

And yet some days I am aware that I am driven mostly by fear. Fear of who I am. Fear of who I’m not. Fear of what happens when I face myself in the mirror. To be bold is to be truthful and I am built of lies.

and the richness of the nut fills my mouth.

That’s what she said. 😆

“Blow jobs are a power dichotomy,” he says and sits up straighter, dusting the shell from his hands. “Most people think that being on your knees and getting railed in the face is a position of submission. But a man is never more vulnerable than he is when his cock is in someone’s mouth. Especially a mouth with sharp teeth.”

“Please accept my apologies.” I reach across the table and pat her hand. “I plan on fucking him tonight so I must decline.”

“Tell me, Captain, are you sober? Do you know what you’re asking for? Because once you have it, there is no turning back.” “Are you insinuating you’re a drug?” I smile showing all my sharp teeth. “I’m insinuating that once you have me, you will not be the same after.”

“You can’t go around threatening to kill someone in a foreign court!” “Now who’s being ridiculous? Of course I can.” “The fact that you never concern yourself with consequences⁠—”` “Is impressive?” I cut in.

He could devour me whole if he wanted to, and I think I’d let him.

At this point, I would.

“You get six words. More. Harder. Stop. Slower. God. Fuck. Now stop being so difficult and let me take care of you. All right?”

“One,” Roc says, “you come over to the bed and you join us.” My mouth drops open. “Two, you sit in that chair and you watch.”