Tears leak out of my eyes. “I—I don’t?—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He covers my mouth and nose with his hand. “Come.”
He thrusts hard to the back of my walls, and I shatter around him with an ear-piercing cry, the rest of the world falling away as I give in to the pleasure he provides me. My walls clench around him, and his head falls back with a groan, his abdomen rippling as his release floods from his cock, pulsing and filling her womb.
Seven hangs his head, pressing his mask to my shoulder as his breath comes in deep, shuddering pants. My mind reels, pleasure and regret mingling in the back of my mind, pulling at the threads of her soul.
A few moments later, Seven manages to compose himself, leaning down to whisper into my ear, “Remember to pack your plug.”
Then, like always, he disappears—leaving me breathless, shuddering, and dripping with his seed.
I lie in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, reeling from the rush of feelings flooding my system. I hate Seven, yet my body craves him. Needs him more than anything.
And that is so, so wrong.
I check my clock, noting it’s now thirty minutes till Archer arrives. Not wanting Archer to smell Seven on me, I take a quick shower, washing away any remnants of Seven. But when I step out, I can’t help but feelwrong.Lonely.
But that’s ridiculous. I’m about to have an amazing weekend with Archer. The man I’m supposed to be exclusive with…
I groan, guilt threatening to eat me alive as I hurry to get dressed. What would Archer do if he found out about Seven? What will Seven do, now that he knows for sure there’s another man in my life?
I gaze toward my nightstand, thinking about Seven’s last words. “Make sure to pack your toy.”
I don’t know how he’d know if I left the plug, but I’m not taking any chances. I grab the plug out of the drawer and stuff it deep into my weekend bag, hoping as long as I bring it with me, it’ll be good enough. I’m certainly notwearingit while I’m trying to get to know Archer or in work meetings.
Just as I’m zipping up my back, there’s a knock on my door. I open it, and Mr. Graves stands there, perfectly kempt, with a heart-stopping smile.
“Ready to go, Grace?”
I steal myself, taking his hand with a nod and a wide smile.
I hope this doesn’t damn him as well as me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SEVEN
“CanI get you anything to drink, sir?”
I stare at Grace sleeping in her plane seat, her head pressed against the window, resting on my balled-up suit jacket. She’s so beautiful, so amazingly perfect.What I wouldn’t give to shove my cock past her lips…
“Sir?”
I try and fail to pull my attention from Grace so I can address the flight attendant. “Vodka, please.”
“Anything for the missus?”
A grin spreads across my lips at his words.The missus. My wife.My gaze flicks to Grace’s ring finger, imagining a large shiny diamond sitting there—or maybe something more permanent, like a tattoo or a scar. We could have matching ones.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Sorry.” I finally turn to face the nice attendant. “She’ll have a cup of tea, please. Green, with cream if you have it.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back with that.”
I turn my attention back to Grace, enamored by her serene expression. She looks so peaceful, so happy. I wonder if she’s dreaming, if she’s thinking about me. Or better, if she’s fantasizing about Seven.
I can still taste her on my tongue from earlier, and it’s driving me mad. I’ve had an erection for most of the flight, and no matter what I try, I can’t get myself to calm down. Every time I get close, I’ll catch a whiff of Grace’s shampoo, or accidentally brush my knee against hers, and I’m set off once more.
