Page 43 of Payback

Pleasure coiled around me like a constrictor, squeezing and squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. Then when I could take no more, the most intense orgasm squeezed out of me in a series of undulating contractions that radiated pleasure down to every nerve ending from scalp to toes.

Edward continued teasing more and more sensations, stretching out my climax until it reduced to the tiniest of trembles. A whimper of satisfaction escaped my lips.

Then Henry bolted upright, eyes flying open. “Oh, fuck!”

As Blake laughed around Henry’s length, I clamped my fingers around Edward’s dick, and he thrust against my grip, letting the tip of his erection rub against my ass. Edward’s erection pulsed in my hand, and with a low, shuddering moan, ropes and ropes of thick, pearlescent fluid shot out of his slit and landed on my hip.

Still thrusting against Henry’s lower body, Blake’s muscles bunched, and he gasped out his climax.

I slumped on the mattress and licked my lips. “Synchronized orgasms? I’m impressed.”

* * *

We left for Brixton Prison at lunchtime, aiming to arrive in London in time for the last available slot for the day. Five of us sat in the back of the limo. Henry at the far end, with Edward, Blake, and me forming natural barriers between him and Charlotte. After all the stunts she had pulled, I didn’t want her getting a whiff of him.

Sergio’s latest concerto played in the speakers, an energetic piece that reminded me of a storm. According to Musical Opinion magazine, he was touring Russia. I wondered if his security guy had gotten any closer to discovering the identity of the person who had poisoned his father.

“Prison’s no place for a trollop, you know,” said Charlotte.

I shot her a glare. “After your video sex with a man older than a giant tortoise and with a body to match, I’m surprised you have the nerve to throw accusations about.”

She sagged in her seat. “Sorry… Force of habit.”

“Take no notice,” whispered Blake. “She’s faking.”

I nodded. The only thing I could trust Charlotte to do was watch out for her family and stick a knife in the backs of everyone else.

Brixton Prison was a dreary, early-nineteenth-century building behind tall, brick walls that were bolstered by miles of barbed wire and what might have been an electrified fence. As the limo pulled up outside the gates, the lining of my stomach trembled. It would be me, Charlotte, and Henry visiting Peter Underwood.

“Will you be alright?” Edward asked.

I nodded, and Blake gave me a peck on the lips. “Be careful.”

Henry wrapped an arm around my waist. “Let’s go.”

He opened the door of the limo and helped me out. We turned toward the entrance when Charlotte stumbled across the sidewalk. I shared a glance with Henry. This was the same girl who had sprinted away from me in six-inch heels. I doubted that she was incapable of stepping out of a limousine.

“You could have at least helped me.” Charlotte ran her hands down her blazer and shot me a venomous glare. “Why do they all like you?”

“Shouldn’t we focus on the matter at hand?” I muttered. “Helping your brother?”

Henry placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me through the first of the security checks. My mind kept flashing back to that terrible night when Mr. Carbuncle had threatened to rape me, and how Peter Underwood had only cared that the former caretaker didn’t do it in his presence.

He had even left me to email some photos, knowing that Mr. Carbuncle would soon return from his cigarette break. Even though he’d been duped and double-crossed by Philippe, as Rudolph would never have paid a ransom for something he had set up, I couldn’t feel much sympathy for the man.

“Edward spent years stringing along my best friends, yet you arrive and swoop him up and his friends. How did you do it?”

My gaze darted to the female security officers who checked our ID before directing us to a bank of lockers. “Focus, Charlotte.” I hissed back.

Her lips puckered as though I had insulted her. Ignoring her expression, I asked, “You brought your brother into the scheme to abduct me, right?”

“Philippe told me—”

“Now he’s in prison because Rudolph’s abandoned him. Let’s focus on seeing how much of the blame we can push where it belongs.”

She cast her eyes at Henry, who had just returned from the lockers, and whispered, “Alright.”

There were more people in the waiting room than I had expected. At times like this, I would have people-watched, but my stomach churned with a combination of dread and guilt. I should have kept my revenge to dumb pranks, like hair remover in Charlotte’s conditioner or something that would only affect the people I had wanted to hurt. By striking too deeply and aiming at their families, I had brought the wrath onto myself.