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I lean in closer. Take all her space. Elise hasn’t stopped making tiny, desperate circles. But I see the moment she gives up her power. It’s a physical shift. The flush in her cheeks deepens.
“Make yourself come, and when it’s time for a rough, dirty game, I’ll make you cry.”
The promise sends her right over the edge. Elise’s hold gets tighter and tighter and then her hips come up off the bed. I watch the pleasure hit. Watch it roll through her eyes.
She lets go.
The moment she does, I turn her over and push her face into the pillows. Angle her hips up. Push inside her while she’s still coming. Elise moans into the pillow. At first her body tries to get away, but then she changes direction, bracing herself on the mattress.
“Fuck, you’re wet for this. Christ. Is this what you think you owe me? A tight, wet pussy? Answer me, Elise.”
She turns her face to the side, panting. The hot clench of her muscles yanks a groan out of me. Elise bites at her lip.
What a willful little brat.
I lean down over her, covering her body with mine, and fuck her harder. Elise is so slick that there’s no resistance. Harder strokes drive the breath out of her. “Do you think this makes everything better, sweetness? Answer, or I’ll stop fucking you.”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“You’re right.” I skim my fingertips around her waist. Over her hips. To her clit. “Give me another one.”
She’s pinned. I half-expect her to tell me that she can’t do it. That it’s too much. But Elise grabs for the pillow and spreads her legs another inch.
How is she so good? How did her life turn her into this sweet, perfect person? She rocks back into me while I circle her clit, again and again and again. I feel the trembling in her musclesfirst. The squeeze. It gets tighter, pulses faster, and she’s right there,right there—
My orgasm takes me by surprise. I don’t have time to prepare. I’ve been so focused on her that I forgot to hold myself back. I forgot to keep my distance. It’s like falling face-first into a pool of sugar. It reminds me of thecrackof a home-run hit at one of the baseball games my dad took us to. It has nothing to do with locks or keys or secrets or revenge.
It’s good. It’s right. It’s mine.
For now.
I need both hands to hold myself up. Elise starts to come just as I lose control and collapse onto her. I kiss the back of her neck, finding her softness while my vision goes dark. Holy fuck. I’ve never been so wound up. I’ve never felt such release.
Oh, God, it’s going to be impossible. It’s going to be so much harder to pull off a suicide plot and take down the consortium when I have her. When I have this. I’m not just leaving a sham life. I’m not stepping off the stage at a show that should have ended its run years ago. I’m leavingher.
And I want to stay.
The intense pull of pleasure burns the new knowledge into my brain.
I’m leaving her.
Fuck.
I can’t care about it right now. Elise turns over and curls into me again, both of us falling to the pillows. It’s on the tip of my tongue to make an unhinged proposal.Run away with me. Forget all this. We’ll never look back.
She kisses my cheek. My chest. Struggles to catch her breath. I think she might also be attempting to hide her face, as if there’s any need to be embarrassed. Elise Bettencourt has been repressed for years. She wants me to show her everything. Especially pain for the purpose of pleasure.
“Sweetness, I—”
A phone rings.
It’s a muffled vibration, coming from somewhere on the floor. Elise picks up her head and looks toward the bedside table. Her phone is both visible and silent.
It’s mine.
I kick off the sheet tangled around my leg and get out of the bed. The phone is in the still-damp pocket of my pants.
Unknown Number
