Dragging my lips back to the curve of her breast, I hear the smile in her voice as she orders me to keep going. All demand. Celine knows what she wants, and it’s my pleasure to give it to her.
“Right there?” I sputter, adjusting my angle until I hear her gasp.
Her answering wail makes the burn in my quads worth it, and when she stiffens in our arms, it’s all I can do not to follow her over the edge.
Alistair’s fingers shake against mine. His eyes flit from Celine’s neck to my lips to the place where we’re all stacked together, warm water trailing over muscles and curves. It’s messy and a little clumsy, but I can’t get enough.
The coil inside me snaps, and I fuck into Celine mindlessly, losing my rhythm as my orgasm crashes over me. Kneestrembling, my vision whites out. Blindly, my lips find hers, and I only pull away to bury my face in her neck when I run out of air.
Don’t drop her. Don’t drop her. Don’t drop her.I repeat the command to my malfunctioning brain, grateful for Alistair’s helping hands.
“Holy fuck,” I moan as sensation returns to my body.
Pulling my head back, I look at Celine. Her eyes are glazed. Her perfect tits are a rosy, splotchy pink—from the hot water and my stubble. Lips puffy from my kisses, she rests her head in the crook of Alistair’s neck and smiles. My stomach twists.She’s beautiful.
“Thank you,” Celine whispers.
I blink, unsure if my inside thoughts got loose or if she’s thanking me for the fuck. My exhausted dick twitches at the thought. I focus on Alistair next.
Water rolls down his cheekbones as he blocks Celine’s face from the direct spray. His eyes—blue and shiny—are clear for the first time in weeks. He’s staring at Celine like she’s the answer to every question he’s ever had.
I shudder. Ali notices and aims his possessive gaze my way.
I’m aware of every place we’re touching—from the brush of my foot against his to our fingers grazing around Celine’s thighs. It’s fucking intimate.
I wait for Alistair to break eye contact, but he doesn’t.
It settles the hungry, restless itch inside me.
Maybe we’re sturdy enough to come through the other side of this—if not unchanged, at least stronger. No matter what happens, if they’re with me I’ll have no complaints.
My basilisk and I are in complete agreement over that.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Unspoken rule of the Fringes #42:
If you want it too bad, it’ll own you instead of the other way around.
ALISTAIR
The bass at the club pumps in time with my excitement. I feel incredible. For the first time in weeks, my body is flush with blood. I’m practically buzzing with it.
Ciprian is bringing the djinn to meet me. Or he says he is. I’m not sure I believe it.
We agreed to meet in the storage room at the Fang, so here I am waiting, pacing around crates of liquor and wearing a groove in the dusty concrete floor.
Then he knocks.
I take a deep breath and wipe my face of all expression. Overeagerness is the quickest way to turn a good deal into a bad one. Flipping the flimsy lock, I throw the door open and use my vampire speed to move to the back corner.
Ciprian steps in first. He’s followed by the fae who recentlyjoined the enclave—Idris, according to my sources—and a big guy I’ve never seen before. The djinn is here, I can smell her, but she’s hiding behind the others.
I barely resist rolling my eyes. Spoiled princess, acting like she needs guards to visit the Fringes. While it may be true, it’s also insulting... and conspicuous.
Although Ciprian’s black eye—courtesy of a run-in he had earlier with Imani—probably isn’t doing much to convince the djinn we’re civilized.
Luca texted me earlier, saying Ciprian had shown up at the club looking for Celine and run into her best friend instead. Assuming he was here to take Celine in, Imani told him to go to hell and socked him in the eye.
