“Gotdamn, Ember. Gotdamn, baby girl,” he grinds out, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss under my ear. “Get there. Get us there.”
His fingers slide over my hip, then tangle with mine. We both strum my clit, working me in tandem. In perfect synchronicity. Pleasure, so sharp, so loud and bright, vibrates within me. Crackles along my skin like electricity over exposed nerves. My hips buck against our joined touch, turning me into a willing captive to his dick, our fingers.
“Asad,” I rasp, my voice serrated by raw lust. “Please. I need… Oh God.” I groan, shaking. “I justneed.” I’m not above begging. I want to beendedby this lust.
“Hold on to me,” he rumbles, and not waiting for me to comply, he cuffs my wrist and draws my arms up and around his neck. “Hold on, and don’t let go.”
I can’t tell if he’s referring to now or ever. And I don’t question it.
And that is foolish.
Gripping his hair, I turn myself over to him completely. And as he fucks me, as I fuck him right back, I break. Crack and explode into pieces. And even then, it’s not enough.
And I’m just aware enough to be scared by that.
CHAPTER THIRTEENAsad
“Well, I guess I should thank you for making time to see your mother today.”
I stare at Michelle as she strides across my office, the cloying perfume of her passive aggressiveness preceding her. Glancing away from her, I nod at Mars, my executive assistant, silently ordering her to close the door behind her. After a hard, narrowed look at my mother’s back that she probably doesn’t think I catch, the beautiful, plus-size woman with her halo of red natural curls returns the gesture and quietly exits the room.
“It’s only eight in the morning, Michelle. A little early to be on the rampage and terrorizing the staff, isn’t it?” I tap my pen on the desktop as she gracefully perches on the chair in front of my desk and crosses her legs. “We’ll need to make this quick since you don’t have an appointment and I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”
When Michelle called asking to see me, I’d been wrapped around Ember. For the first time in, well, ever, I’d overslept and had been contemplating not coming in to work, which I’d never done. But that’s what Ember did to me—changed me. Made me operate different. Put someone else’s needs other than my own first. For years, my sole goal was to inherit Cross and claim Ember. All the years of planning and scheming had finally earned out. And while lying there, arms full of the woman who’d been my obsession for longer than I care to admit, I finally felt… whole. And hopeful that all the fighting was coming to an end. Now Icould be the one who started living. Nah, everything isn’t solved between us, but last night was the move in the right direction.
Then Michelle hit my line, and here I am instead of fucking my soon-to-be wife.
Whatever this is had better be important and not the same ol’ bullshit. Because Michelle can complain, she can threaten, but I’m not letting Ember go. There’s nothing she can do about it.
She stares at me, her fingernails tip-tapping on the arm of the chair the only sound in the heavy silence. I almost smirk, but instead sink back into my leather chair. The silent treatment is an old game, a tired one. She must’ve forgotten who she’s dealing with though. I like the quiet. I thrive in it. And Michelle Prince ceased to intimidate me a long time ago.
“I saw on the news that Deacon and Xavier are dead. The only details they’ve released are that the deaths were particularly brutal and appear to be targeted. You don’t think it would’ve been wiser to be less… splashy?”
Locking my fingers over top of my abdomen, I cock my head.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about since I haven’t seen the news this morning. It’s a damn shame about Deacon and Xavier though. A real damn shame.”
She mugs me, but I return it with another stare. Fuck what she thought. I don’t know what Marcus handled shit with her, but damn if I’m discussing confidential Cross business with my mother. And keeping it a hundred? I don’t put it past her to walk up in this bitch wired up. Loyalty was never one of Michelle’s virtues or burdens.
Just ask my father.
“Really, Prince?” she scoffs, brushing an invisible wrinkle from the razor-sharp crease of her pants. “Is that what we’re doing? It’s bad enough that you’re going against every principle Marcus taught you and all of his wishes about the survival of Cross by inviting Ember”—she practically growls her name, the disgust dripping from her tone—“into family business, but you cut your brother out of it. Like last night. Why wouldn’t youhave him by your side? I bet you took your newsecond. And that other bitch you promoted. But not Kareem. How do you justify that?”
“I don’t.” I shrug and fall back against my chair. Drumming my fingers on the arm, I tilt my head. “Because once again, I don’t know what you’re referring to. But, hypothetically, if I had handled a contract for the fashion house and Eli or Makeda accompanied me, it would’ve made perfect sense since both are part of my security. Also, hypothetically, brother or not, if he’s not qualified or experienced enough to handle whatever business I’m on, then it is what it is. I’on know, Michelle. It feels like I’m having a sense of déjà vu, as if we discussed this very same thing before. But that can’t be true because we both know how I hate repeating myself.”
Her face hardens with fury, and that shit doesn’t move me. There was a time long ago—when my father was alive—when her approval meant everything to me. When I breathed to please her and witness that beautiful smile spread across her face.
Those days are long gone. She killed that impressionable, blindly loyal boy with the same doses of poison she administered to my father.
Michelle created the monster before her lie by lie, betrayal by betrayal, murder by murder.
“I’m your mother, Prince.” She states the obvious after another long beat of silence.
I nod. “Yes.”
“You wouldn’t be sitting behind that desk if not for me. You wouldn’t have this life if not for me. This position, the power, the influence—all me.”
“Okay.”
