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“Fuck.”
He hums it in my ear—one long, low breath of approval, of appreciation. “I never would have guessed you were so needy.”
I can practically feel the curve of his lips, smiling, as he presses them against my neck.
I open my mouth to tell him that he’s making me this way, but no words come out. Just as I’m trying to remember how to get my tongue to move to form them, he grabs my clit between two fingers, pinching it ruthlessly.
It’s a scream that leaves my mouth in the end when he finds his release and demands my own. It’s primal, it’s raw, and it’s full of every ounce of pain and pleasure he’s given me tonight. I’m pretty sure they could hear it downstairs, but I don’t have the energy to care. It is only quieted when he seizes my chin and yanks me around to face him.
As the pulsing in my core eases and his strokes slow, he crushes his mouth against mine and possesses my mouth—the last thing he can take, since my body is thoroughly his now.
I lose myself in the kiss—if you can even call it that. I think he may be trying to steal my soul through my chest, dominating my mouth even after he pulls out of me, covering my lips with a bruising kiss.
The minute he lets go of me, I fall into the bed and try to catch my breath.
Every part of me is sore, raw, and too tired to move.
And I’ve never felt better.
Chapter thirty-five
Remy
Claire is so exhausted she falls into the sheets the moment I release my grip on her, and I don’t blame her. I certainly put her through her paces. I wasn’t sure how far she was willing to take the idea of being hurt, and while my palms had itched to smack across the beautiful curves of her ass until her flesh was as hot as her pussy, I restrained myself.
I didn’t make love to her either. It was tantric, raw, violent yet mutual.
And so fucking good.
Claire isn’t the first woman who has asked for me to get a little rough. But she’s the first who has ever made me feel like a god, giving me herself so completely, letting me control her body as effortlessly as if she were a puppet whose strings were twined through my fingers. It’s addicting, watching her toes curl and her cheeks flush, seeing the way her chest catches when she holds her breath like she’s too busy focusing on the pleasure to worry about such trivial things. I’m not sure which is the greater high—watching her face as she comes apart or feeling her sweet little pussy quiver desperately around me.
It’s weird, the sensation that floods me in the wake of my release. When I withdraw from her, she’s lying on her side, entirely at ease, not bothering to hide any part of herself from my view.
I brush her hair over her shoulder so I can look at her face and try to figure out whether she’s feeling the same strange emotions I am, and that’s when I see her eyes are heavy, fluttering closed. She graces me with a sleepy smile, but her eyes are hardly open enough to see me.
The chaos in my head only deepens as she falls asleep on my bed.
She slept here before, when I was too fucked up to let her out of my sight. That was the first inkling I had that I was in trouble. That suspicion has only proven itself to be truer than I’d initially thought. Rhea’s blessing was hardly necessary, but it has definitely helped me feel less guilty for the wicked thoughts I have of her best friend. And now that those wicked thoughts have become reality, I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same once she’s gone. Even the thought of leaving her now to go downstairs and check on my guests, feels like a herculean effort. But business never stops, and I’m not going to miss my opportunity to catch Davos just to lay here next to her and contemplate my feelings.
I brush my knuckles over her neck just to be sure she’s breathing, and ease when I feel her pulse ebbing under the surface. A small sound leaves her throat; It’s dangerously close to her encouraging sounds of pleasure and makes it even harder to pull away. A small part of me hopes she’ll stay sleeping, so that I at least have a chance to do what I don’t want to. The greater part of me wants to wake her with my lips on hers and get back to it. Even though I know she’s tired, I’m not. I’m awake with the blood still rushing through my veins.
Claire doesn’t stir as I dress, nor when I draw the sheet over her. I hate leaving her at all, let alone leaving her vulnerable, so I lock the door from the inside and hope that by the time I get back up here, she’s ready for more.
When I get downstairs, the crowd has thinned, and I quickly mutter my appreciation for that. I’d intended my sister to be able to help field some of the condolences being delivered en masse, but I worked out most of my frustration on Claire already. I feel refreshed and oddly chipper—too chipper, given the circumstances. This is my father’s wake and there are people watching. I need to reign it in.
“Remy!” I hear my name from across the room and look up to see Elaine fixing me with a desperate look in her wide eyes. There’s a man next to her who looks oddly familiar—middle aged, attractive to the kind of women who are into the perfectly polished sort of guy who I’m willing to bet spends more time on his hair than they do. I don’t doubt he’s used to getting what he wants, which begs the question… what does he want?
“Elaine.” I offer her a smile and then turn to the man. “You look familiar. Don’t tell me, you worked with my father.”
“Everyone worked with Jonathan Boudreaux.” The man laughs, but he appears tense, and the way his eyes flick to Elaine tells me she’s the source of his irritation.
“This is Senator Victor Massarini.” Elaine says, gesturing to the man at her side without taking her eyes off of me. Her smile is tight, uncomfortable. But Elaine pulls no punches. She’s not afraid to be honest, so if the senator was bothering her, I doubt she’d hesitate to tell him as much.
“Senator?” I feign surprise, as if he doesn’t look like the Webster’s dictionary definition of a politician. “What state?”
“Washington.” He smiles, but it’s not genuine. It’s hollow, distracted.
“Well, I guess that’s why you look familiar. My father got on famously with politicians.” I reach out a hand to shake and after a moment of hesitation, he does the same.
