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“That’s the focus right now. Safety.” Gage must feel the need to emphasize things with my girl because he ends our meeting on the most vital note. “You’re part of this fucked-up family now, Celeste. Ours to protect. Ours forever.”
It’s been about two and a half weeks since the family meeting that felt like a bridge between Celeste viewing herself as a visitor and as part of us. She’s settling into her role at the shelter and certainly thriving, which has been as monumental for her as it is for Ty. He needs to be able to break away from that torment on occasion, and Celeste needs to know how adept she is and that her brilliance is valued. She’s also maintaining a relationship with Whispering Pines and her work there, so she’s able to indulge in the horses and photography.
There have been some brief communications with her family, none of which ran smoothly. They’ve backed off the pressure, but aren’t quite embracing her path. Maybe in time. I’m offering her the space to work through it with them. For now. My patience is already growing weary.
Aside from Ty and me accompanying Celeste to the stables with her security team, we also ate out one night at a restaurant for a late Valentine’s Day surprise, everyone except Gage and Dante, who stayed back with Felicity. Wells rented it for a couple of hours, so it was only the five of us with Natasha, Rex, Keith, and Arnold—not a sappy, romantic date, but Celeste was grateful. Plus, I made up for the lack of romance that evening with champagne, strawberries, and a naughty massage.
That’s how all our outings will be for the foreseeable future. Isolated. Preplanned. Heavily guarded. The girls both seem amenable to those measures. It trumps being housebound indefinitely.
Today, Wells and I surprised them with a private shopping trip. We rented out a designer’s shop they both like and invited Rena along for a girls’ outing. With Rex, Keith, Dante, Arnold, Wells, and me. So, there are twice as many men on the girls’ day, but we’re doing our best to blend into the background.
Natasha is heading back home in a few days, so we’re taking advantage of her being available to help with Felicity while we’re out. When we proposed the idea to her last week, she was thrilled for the girls and excited to have some extra time with her granddaughter. Ty and Gage and a few of the Noire brothers are at the house, too, awaiting our return. We’re bringing dinner back later.
The girls are in the dressing room, trying on clothes and giggling nonstop, while Wells and I lounge in the cushy waiting area up front. It’s been a couple of hours already. Celeste’s security guys are manning the doors outside, but they don’t seem to mind. They’ve been a welcome addition to our crew.
Rex was happy to tighten the reins under our command. After what happened on his watch, the guy has been beating himself up. So have Keith and Dante for that matter. All three have been on edge and eager to take whatever steps needed to make it up to her. That I understand. We’ve dealt with our own misses concerning Ivy, and I certainly shoulder the fault of the fiasco at the hotel with Celeste. But all we can do is move forward.
Unable to keep myself from Celeste, I quietly announce to Wells that I’m sneaking back to see my girl. He just smirks and shakes his head, fully aware of what my visit will entail. The personal shopper is in the dressing area, hanging up garments, so I hold my index finger to my lips and show her a picture of Ace. She knocks on the correct door, citing that she found something perfect for her, and when my girl opens, I slip inside.
She’s in a silky little black number. I like it, but I’d prefer it on the floor. It’s her smile that does me in though. Just as depraved as me.
My hand slips to her lower back as my lips move against her ear. “I missed you, Ace. Think you can be a good girl and stay quiet for me?”
She bites her lip and nods, so I flip her around to face the mirror, place her hands on it above her head, and ruck that dress up to her hips. Her heels keep her at the ideal height. I’ve got myself unleashed, her panties ripped off, and my steel cock lined up with her perfect pussy in another two seconds. I tarry at her entrance for a moment, relishing the sight of her wiggling her ass against me in anticipation.
“So wet, baby girl,” I whisper. Ivy and Rena are making enough ruckus to mask my words.
“For you,” she murmurs, brown eyes wanton, breathing shallow.
I slam into her from behind, one hand clutching her hip while the other massages her clit.
Pinch. Flick. Swirl.
Her head falls back against my shoulder, hair tickling my cheek. Releasing her magnificent tits so she’s only covered by this black dress over her midriff, ravenous want pouring off her, I am undone by the visual greeting me from our reflection.
Sexy as fuck. Christ Almighty.
“How’s that one working, Lettie?” Ivy asks from the other fitting room.
A smile blasts across my face, and my eyebrows dart up as I instruct my girl to answer while tweaking her nipple.
“A perfect fit,” she replies, the timbre of her voice hoarse with arousal.
“Get it, girl!” Rena shouts. “Gonna let us see?”
Celeste and I both almost lose it with that, but thankfully, the girls start chatting in hushed voices, granting a reprieve. Our eyes are locked in the mirror, a charge of electricity spiking through me everywhere I touch her silky-as-fuck skin. Jesus, I love making her mine in every damn place we go. Let the whole world know I’m claiming her, fading away until it’s just us.
Despite this divine unhinging, Celeste finally musters the strength to respond to Rena. “I think I’ll let this be something I save for a private showing.”
“Ahh. Slutty,” Rena quips, to which Ivy corrects, “Our mothers would say risqué.”
“I was raised by men who run a casino, a nightclub, and an exclusive sex club,” Rena counters. “Slutty is as demure as it gets, ladies.”
That girl always has something hilarious to add to the conversation.
They’re eventually quiet for long enough that I can really work Ace up to a state of madness, her teeth sinking into her parting lips, her hungry gaze dipping to where we’re joined, her eyes hooded. Her orgasm crests so violently that she clamps down on my cock, squeezing me like a damn vise and forcing me to follow her over the edge in a silent shattering. I bury my mouth in her collarbone, breathing in her cashmere fragrance and sucking on her skin to keep my groans at bay.
“Want some candy, Celeste?” Rena asks while I’m still emptying myself inside my girl. “If you’re into sucking, I’ve got Lemonheads. Or if you’re a spicy lover, I have Red Hots. Or …” On each word, her voice rises with excitement as I tuck myself away and straighten Celeste out, trying not to all-out guffaw from this ridiculous candy chitchat. “If you’d rather have the eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head experience, I’ve got a Dick Taylor chocolate bar.”
