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I plant both hands on his chest and push him down into the chair. I kick off my jeans and crawl on top of him. He stares up at me with wide eyes, his pretty mouth cocked like he doesn’t know what to do with me. The Golden Boy isn’t used to surprises.
I know exactly what to do with him.
I slide off his pants and boxers, drawing out his cock in my hand as I deepen our kiss. I stroke him until he squirms beneath me, until his teeth drag over my lip and he has to tear my hand off him. Until he’s on the very edge of control.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” he whispers, his breath caressing my lips. “How many times I’ve dreamed of making you feel so good…”
Heat tugs at my stomach as he slides his hand between us, rubbing my throbbing clit, using my own juices to make it slippery. I grip his neck and throw back my head as my whole body thrums with heat. Eli takes the opportunity to wrap his hot mouth around my nipple, teasing and sucking as he swirls his finger around my clit.
The orgasm slams into me – a freight train of pleasure crashing through my body. I wrap myself around Eli, not caring how much noise I’m making or that I’m coming all over his hand. As the orgasm crests and warmth floods my body, I look down at Eli, who’s staring up at me like he’s been lost in a desert for three days and I’m an ice-cold lemonade stand.
“Look at you,” he whispers. “You’re a dream. You’re everything.”
“Quit with the poetry and fuck me.” I croak out the words. I need him inside me. I need him to stop staying things that make my chest feel like it’s about to cave in.
Eli grabs my hips and shuffles me forward, positioning himself at my entrance. I grip the arms of the chair and lift myself up. All three of the guys went out and got tested while I was recovering from the bullet wounds, and I’m now on birth control, so we don’t have to use condoms any longer. I lower myself onto his cock. A sigh escapes me. Ocean-blue eyes lock on mine as his fingers dig into my thighs. “Fuck, Claws. You feel so good.”
I grip his shoulder with one hand, guiding myself up to slam down on him, burying him deeper. It hurts my wound to be the one doing the fucking, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. We both need this. He needs to know that he’s mine, that whatever happens, I’ve got him. I’m holding on.
He breathes hard, his hips thrusting up to meet mine as he kisses my neck, my cheeks, my lips. I feel another orgasm building inside me. I fuck him harder, driving through the spreading pain in my abdomen, bucking and fucking until we both shudder through orgasms.
I took those bullets for him. His pain is a part of me now, and I’d do it a hundred times over if he’ll always be mine.
Mine.
Eli Hart is mine.
Claudia
I never got to attend high school back in Tartarus Oaks. I was homeschooled – I sat upright in my father’s study while he was out doing whatever mobsters do. I worked on essays and math equations with perfect posture and Greek vases covered in homoerotic red-figure paintings as my only classmates.
Even though I lack the requisite experience to make a comparison, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that Tartarus Oaks senior trips didn’t involve putting the whole class in first-class seats to fly to Germany for a week.
I sit between Noah and Eli, trying to pretend that I’m totally cool and bored with the whole process instead of freaking out in the best possible way. I’ve been dreading the Germany trip and leaving the manor in the middle of this shitstorm, but my fear gives way to excitement as soon as I buckle my seatbelt. Forget being on a plane before, the furthest I’ve gone outside Emerald Beach was when we drove to Everlasting Hart Ranch to confront Brutus. Everything from the boarding process and watching our luggage being loaded to listening to the safety demonstration and experimenting with my seat buttons is new and exciting.
As the plane lifts off the ground, my gut lurches with it. I think of Malloy Manor, empty and unguarded except for Galen. I can’t even turn the security system on my phone to check the house – it has to wait until we land in seventy-million hours. I flop back in my seat and flick through videos of Queen Boudica on my phone, trying to force my body into some state of equilibrium.
In the seats behind us, George and Gabriel swap phones to listen to playlists they made for each other. I haven’t been able to get George alone to ask about Isaac – I’m pretty sure she’s deliberately avoiding me. I’m going to fix that on this trip.
George presses play and then whirls around to watch Gabriel, as if it’s suddenly hit her that she’s listening to a personalized playlist made by Gabriel Fallen himself.
I know how she feels. It hits me at random times, too. I’m too busy rolling my eyes at something ridiculous Gabriel says and then I remember that he sings the stars.
I wish he’d sing them again. I need a little starlight in my life.
Seventy-million hours and five bags of airplane peanuts later, we land in Munich. Gabriel drags our jet-lagged asses out to a beer hall where all the waitresses know his name. We’re escorted to bench seats on a long table and served enormous platters of schnitzel and wurst and warm potato salad, washed down with steins the size of my head. No one asks for ID. Some of the other students from school join us – it’s strange seeing my classmates away from the competitiveness and stuffy atmosphere of Stonehurst. I find myself talking to people I’ve never acknowledged before. Cleo holds court at the other end of the table, but we ignore her.
Munich is new and strange and different, the air alive with tension. Or maybe that’s just my nerves at being somewhere new without eyes on Mackenzie Malloy’s latest movements. Everything is the same but different – there are beautiful parks filled with strange trees and different birds. There’s no ocean roaring in the background, no seagulls landing on the railing of our hotel balcony. Some of the buildings are so old and so beautiful they make my breath catch in my throat. Daddy would have loved Munich.
The school has a selection of activities organized for each day, and we’re able to choose from cultural excursions like visiting Neuschwanstein Castle or adrenaline activities like skydiving and hiking, or a visit to a brewery for a lecture about the history of Bavarian purity laws, followed by a beer tasting. The legal drinking age in Germany is 16, and the students of Stonehurst Prep are determined to take full advantage of it. German beer is delicious so I’m not going to be the one to complain.
Antony is leading a ‘small group’ on an overnight excursion to Rothenburg ob der Tauber (this means Rothenburg on the river Tauber. My German is scheisse, but Eli speaks it fluently because of course he does, and he explained it to me). Noah, Gabriel, George, Eli, and I fill all the available spots. We leave Tiberius and Ms. Drysdale to escort another group on a tour of Sachsenhausen concentration camp (sounds like a hoot of a time), and head out of the city in a minivan Antony rented for the trip.
My cousin grins as he maneuvers the van into the fast lane on the autobahn and puts his foot to the floor. “I love this road. I only wish I didn’t have you lot so I could’ve rented a proper car.”
“You just passed an Audi in this junky van. I think you’re doing fine.”
Antony flashes me a wicked grin as he pours on even more speed. Seeing Antony like this – not as a mobster in charge of an underground fight club, but a young man having a blast in a foreign country – makes my chest hurt. This is what I wanted for him all along, the chance to discover who he is outside of the family’s plans for him. If he can extract himself from Nero, he could have this for real.
