Page 40

Ekon presses his knee between my legs, and I know he can feel the wetness of my panties.

He moves toward my ear. "You don't get to fuck someone else to get me out of your system, Yue."

I turn away from him, body on fire.

"Look at me."

When I don’t obey, he grabs my jaw and makes me face him. Using one hand, he holds me in place and slips it between my legs. His fingers dive into my pussy, and I grunt, grinding as he shoves them into me.

"Say my name."

I shake my head, loving the pleasure.

He angles his fingers, and my pussy clenches. He pumps them into me, stroking my insides.

"Say. My. Fucking. Name."

"Ekon—" I say, the words leaving my mouth broken.

He fucks me with his fingers before removing them without a word.

“What the—” I start before he shoves a finger into my mouth.

I taste my flavor and then Ekon leans in, kissing me and sliding his tongue along mine. His other hand moves to his waist, and he undoes his belt. He grabs me and jumps into the air. My legs wrap around his waist. My body shudders against the cool New Orleans air. It’s a little after eleven in the evening, and the clouds are high in the sky.

The ground falls away. Bourbon Street shrinks beneath us, and the buildings become little ants on the ground. My stomach lurches, and my hands grab at his shoulders. My nails dig into his flesh, leaving fresh scratches. Ekon grunts, making a noise that’s mostly monster. He doesn’t talk, though.

"Put me the fuck down!" I holler, my voice coming out breathless.

My dress bunches around my hips, and the cool night air splashes on my bare ass because the thong I'm wearing covers nothing.

His wings beat once, twice, and we surge higher. The French Quarter spreads out below us like a circuit board. The Mississippi glints black and silver to the east.

“Put me down!” I hiss again.

"No," he finally says. His arm tightens around my waist.

"You can't just—" I start.

"I can." His mouth finds my ear. His breath is hot against the shell. "I can do whatever I want with what's mine."

My pussy clenches, and my heart stops.

I shake my head. “I’m not yours.”

“Stop talking,” he replies easily, his voice a mixture of human and beast.

A bolt of electricity shoots straight from my ear to my clit. My thighs squeeze tighter around his waist.

“All mine,” he growls.

My body grinds against him for some reason. The wet fabric of my thong drags against the hard plane of his stomach. His hand on my back lowers. His fingers find the edge of the thong and hook underneath. The air hits my slick folds, and I shiver, teeth clicking together.

"You're still wet," he says. His voice is rougher now, the gargoyle bleeding through. The skin of his chest changes, growing harder than ever. Roughness ghosts against my flesh.

"Fuck you," I manage.

"You’re about to."