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I push back in until I’m buried in her right to the hilt. She’s so damn tight that one word comes to my mind. I won’t allow it to manifest. I ease back, then push in again. It’s taking every ounce of self control I have not to pump away into her, but she needs it slow. I’ve never slow fucked anyone before. It always felt too personal. Like I didn’t want to get too close before shooting my load then kicking them out. It’s almost painful waiting, taking my time, but it’s the kind of pain that draws out into pleasure. I kiss her again and as I do, her whole body relaxes. I take my time, coaxing her, pushing in, drawing back. The tears have stopped now, but I can still see the rivers they’ve drawn down the side of her face. Even in the height of sex, she’s still a confusing mystery. And so fucking good. It’s no longer sex. Somewhere along the line, she’s turned it into making love. I lower my body weight onto hers for the first time, no longer holding myself up by the strength of my biceps. When I kiss her, it feels real. This is what I missed out on all those years ago and what I’ve been missing out on ever since. When her hips begin to buck, matching my thrusts with her own, I take it as an invitation. I thrust harder, faster, and this time she works with me instead of against me. It’s like fucking coming home. My balls tighten and I come inside her with a grunt on my lips. I stay inside her, too spent to roll off. When I look down at her, she’s staring right past me at the ceiling. Not past me. Through me. She’s not staring at anything at all, I remind myself. She can’t see me.
37
MERCIER
“What the fuck, man? It’s not even light out.”
Dacre pulls the blankets from me and grabs my phone from the table before throwing it at me. “Unlock your phone.”
I rub my eyes and sit up. “Is this some weird British custom that I don’t know about, cos I think I’ll pass.”
“Just unlock the goddamned phone.”
I sit up straight. “I’m sensing some tension here. Did he murder her and throw her over the side of the yacht?”
Dacre growls. “He better fucking not have done. What’s he said to you?”
I look down at my phone. There’s one message. Unsurprisingly, when I open it, I find it from Nix. “He says he’s got something to tell us and we’re not going to like it.”
“Damn!” Dacre stamps his foot. “That’s what he said to me, too. Get up and get dressed.”
I want to pull the covers back over myself, but no one gets any rest when Dacre is in one of his anxious moods. I hope whatever Nix has to say isn’t as bad as it sounds, because I’m pretty sure Dacre will have us all stress-cleaning the fucking apartment.
“Take a fucking chill pill,” I grumble. “I’ll make us some breakfast.”
As I prepare breakfast, Dacre marches round the apartment, wearing a path in his parents’ rugs. Every twenty seconds, he pulls out his phone and dials.
“Why isn’t he answering?”
I check my watch and stifle a yawn. “Probably because it’s five fucking am, and he’s not insane like you?”
Funnily enough, my answer doesn’t calm him down. Nix’s bad news is probably that he’s fucked Sinful in every position and he wants to wait to tell us to see our reactions. I wouldn’t put it past the psycho. Hell, I’d do the exact same thing.
“I mean, he’s already dropped the fucking bombshell that there’s no money. How worse can it get?” he says, ignoring me. I’m pretty sure he’s only talking to himself by this point and has forgotten I’m in the room.
“He’s winding us up. He’s probably balls deep in Sinful as we speak and doesn’t have time to answer the fucking phone.”
Dacre throws me a dark look, which makes me chuckle. He didn’t even like Sinful at the start of the week and now he’s like a puppy without a bone. I don’t blame Nix for spending the night fucking Sinful. I should have done the same thing when I got the chance instead of jerking off over her. If there’s no ransom and no reward, we get to keep her as our plaything. All three of us. I really don’t see a downside at all. Of course, we’ll all be living on the streets, but at least we’ll have Sinful’s warm body to keep us all warm at night.
I have to endure three more hours of Dacre’s complaining before Nix finally makes an appearance. Sinful practically runs past him into the bathroom and closes the door. I wonder if we’ll get another repeat performance of her emerging from the bathroom naked, but apparently Dacre’s mind is on other things.
“What the fuck is going on?” he spits. “I’ve been up all night.”
“Me too, but not in the way you think,” Nix grunts. He strides past us to the kitchen and pours himself a juice. “Well, not later. I was up the first half of the night in the way you think.”
“I’d have thought fucking Sinful would make you sleep like a baby,” I muse.
Dacre’s neck ticks. “Forget fucking her. What’s going on with the money? What do you mean, there’s no ransom or reward?”
Nix is acting weird. He’s not got the angry expression he’s been wearing all week, but he also doesn’t look like a man that’s spent the night finding heaven with Sin. “Just what I said. She’s been playing us from the start. She didn’t write a ransom note. I mean, how the fuck could she? The thirty mil wasn’t even on the table. Waldgrave knows she ran away.”
Dacre’s eyes flash with anger. I pull myself forward and rest my head on my fists. I have no idea what Sinful has done to play us apart from bullshitting us about the thirty million, but I sense this is going to be fun to watch. I thought I liked her at the start, but I really fucking dig this chick now.
“Okay, so the thirty mil is gone. What about the reward? Let’s just give her back. We can drive back today.”
Nix stares at him pointedly. “Can you give her up?”
Ohh, this is getting juicy.
