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My skull constricts, and for a harrowing moment, I’m light-headed. Losing the thread again. No.Fuck.
I’m not aware of looking away from Elise. I have the impression of the blue of Jacob’s eyes. Please don’t kill me. Help me. Please.
Then his hand is on my arm, just above my elbow. It’s not a sexual touch. It’s the way he’d touch me if we were crossing the street, and I was distracted.I’m watching,the light, confident pressure says.I won’t let anything happen.
Elise’s face. Elise’s eyes. She’s so tight around me. Feel that. Forget about the consortium. There’s a single moment of vertigo, when I’m sure it won’t happen, when I’m sure I can’t make it happen, but Jacob doesn’t let go.
And Elise wraps her legs around me and pulls me tight to her sweet, perfect body.
Mine answers.
Hormones and adrenaline and pleasure thrust my hips, hard, hard,harder,and it’s so good, fuck,fuck,I can’t stop.
I was right. My release shuts down my vision. It shuts down everything except the drive to fill her completely. To make her mine. She’s mine. She’smine.
It takes forever for the orgasm to let go. My cock pulses, the sensation so raw that I have to close my eyes.
It’s so loud. Air rushes. My heart pounds. I’m breathing too fast, and too sharp. Oh, fuck me, it’s not going to let go. I’ll be killed by an orgasm instead of the consortium.
But slowly, gradually, it releases me. Jacob stays where he is, his hand steady on my elbow.
I resurface to dead silence.
18
ELISE
I expectedto feel lots of things tonight. The warm, satisfied, human-jelly feeling currently suffusing my body was definitely not one of them.
I’m surprised to find myself on a conference table and not a bed. That’s how good it was to be with Gabriel. And it really did feel like I was withhimand no one else. I close my eyes for a few seconds and wish to wake up in my bedroom with him. Orhisbedroom with him. Anywhere that’s not here. Because the deep, warm connected feeling that rests over my body like a blanket doesn’t belong in this room.
It doesn’t belong to the consortium.
I need a minute. I need to bake. Tonight was designed to be awful for me, and it wasn’t. Not all of it, anyway. Victory swells in my chest. Triumphant music should be playing.
Gabriel shivers, and my sense of victory is like a tray of cupcakes I’ve been careless with. It slips off the edge of the countertop and crashes to the floor, ruining them all.
We did it. We made it through the non-negotiable sex scene my father ordered us to perform. Nobody walked away. Nobody died.
They’re in. Gabriel and Jacob are in the consortium.
No.
Gabriel pulls himself away from me, and I feel like I’ve tripped on the stairs at my apartment and gone tumbling to the bottom. All our attention was on the sex. How could it not be? The three of us had to work our way through every moment together. My father and his friends might be terrible, corrupted men, but Gabriel and Jacob aren’t. If they were anything like my father and Chambers and Newhouse, they wouldn’t have taken so much care with me.
Heartless men would’ve known it would be easier to bend me over the table and get it over with. Gabriel and Jacob got a little bit of a reprieve from what comes next—actually being in the consortium.
I still don’t want to look anywhere but Gabriel’s face, so I see his expression waver. His chin dimples for a split second. He’s calm almost immediately. The dimple’s gone. He squeezes my knee.
Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out my panties.
They’re not really mine. I tense, getting ready to lift my legs for him to put them on, but a firm hold on my knee keeps me on the table.
Gabriel shushes me. I haven’t said anything. I open my mouth to point that out just as he presses the panties between my legs. Shit, that’s sensitive. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but the light touch is almost too much. Gabriel’s quick and confident about cleaning me up.
He holds the panties in his fist and looks up and away from me. “Which one of you has the bag?” Wilson Chambers makes a sound that’s not quite an answer. “Ah. Good for you, Chambers.”
The white cloth flies out of his hand. I hear the panties hit the polished conference table, and the softpopof a plastic bag being opened.
