“The game!” Neo shouts from the living room. Our cue to return.
Gogo and Naledi, exhausted from cooking, eventually head upstairs to bed while the men shift their attention to the Azkals men’s soccer match streaming from a rainy evening in Manila.
I sit next to DK on the sofa, tucked into the curve of his arm, while his eyes stay locked on the pitch. DK told me how much it meant for Angelo to have his sons watch the first match of the season with him. Deciding to give them that time together, I press a kiss to DK’s jaw. “I’m going to head up.”
“I’ll be there soon to tuck you in,” he whispers, the dark promise in his voice sends little shivers down my spine.
I rise from the couch and say goodnight to Angelo and Neo, who lift their eyes off the screen only long enough to return the words.
The cheers and chatter from downstairs are muted behind the closed door of DK’s room. I gather what I need from my bag and step into the shared bathroom, tilting my face up tothe warm spray. I’m well-fed, well cared for… and completely in love.
I take my time applying the rich, moisturizing lotion I packed specifically for this weekend, the one that leaves a subtle gold shimmer. Need thrums through me as I rub it into my skin, feeling that deep, pulsing beat of anticipation. I apply a light mist of my favorite perfume—notes of vanilla, rose, and bergamot—to the pulse points at my neck, wrists, and behind my knees, the fragrance intensifying from the heat of my body.
I slip into the chemise I’ve been saving. It’s milk chocolate, open at the front except for a thin tie between my breasts, and so transparent it might as well be invisible. I set the leather restraints on the side table, and leave the lamp on, so he can see them—and me.
Then I pull back the covers of DK’s bed and slide in. The low buzz of the vibrators fills the corners of the room. This is exactly how I want him to find me when he comes through that door to “tuck” me in.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
DK
Living in D.C., Dad, Neo, and I rarely got to watch the first game of the season together. I hadn’t made the time then. But tonight, I relish the joy on my father’s face at having his sons by his side when his team scores the winning goal.
We toast with a celebratory shot of Three Wise Men, a potent mix of Johnnie Walker, Jack Daniel’s, and Jim Beam, that’s like a punch to the throat.
A short time after, Neo heads out to meet friends at a club, and Dad and I start up the stairs. He catches me on the landing, his hand light on my shoulder.
“Rayne is just as you described,” he says, his voice low enough not to carry. “She suits you, DK. A good heart…a fiery spirit, and she already knows how to handle Gogo,” he adds with a rare grin. “You chose well.”
His words hit me right in the chest—simple and honest. Mom had basically said the same thing to me earlier. Gogo wouldn’t say it out loud, but I’d seen it in those small nods of approval.
“Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”
Family is important to Luna and me. We have to keep our true feelings private, so acceptance from the people we love matters. Knowing my family is already folding her into our tight-knit circle just makes my choice that much sweeter.
“Goodnight, son.”
“Goodnight.”
I wait until I hear his door click shut at the other end of the hall before I move. The house feels thick with a different kind of energy now—the heat of awareness that the woman who has become my center is waiting on the other side of the wall. I enter Neo’s old room without stopping and head straight for the adjoining bathroom. The air is still moist from her shower and carries her scent.
I’d told Luna to be ready for me. I’d given her the green light, knowing the layout of the house protected our privacy, and I’d spent the last hour downstairs anticipating exactly what that readiness would look like.
But the moment I open my bedroom door, I realize that trying to prepare myself was entirely pointless. She wasn’t just waiting for me. She’d already started.
Her eyes are like smoke. Her knees bent and parted, her hand moving with a slow, erotic grace as she pushes a toy shaft in and out of her pussy.
A groan leaves me in one sharp breath. She’s wearing something translucent, open, and inviting. The glow of the lamplight catches the gold shimmer of her skin, tracing over all that voluptuous softness I’ve memorized but never seen quite like this.
She has me in a fucking chokehold. I’m riveted to the way her features tighten, and her breath hitches as she works. Her pointed toes are pressed into the mattress, her heels raised, calves flexed, her hips subtly rocking. A second vibrator, sitting around two fingers like a knuckle ring, plays against herpuckered nipple. It’s the most beautiful thing—blatantly sexual and boldly feminine—Luna taking what she wants while I watch.
I reach up and slowly begin to unbutton my polo. I want her to see every bit of the effect she has on me. “How many orgasms have I missed?”
“One,” she breathes. “Better catch up.”
“Don’t come this time without me.” I drop my shirt on the dresser, and my hand moves to the button on my shorts. I shed my clothes to free myself for her heavy-lidded gaze. We haven’t touched yet. We haven’t even kissed. But the air between us is vibrating so hard I’m surprised the windows aren’t rattling.
She arches her back, a small, choked sound escaping her throat as her tongue slides along the seam of her lips. When she catches her full lower lip between her teeth like she wants to eat me alive, I pour her lotion into my hand. Planting my feet wide, I fist my dick with the scent of her, and stroke it from root to tip.
