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Thrust.
“Now.”
“Fuck you.”
There’s the sound of footsteps stomping across the room, followed by the door opening and then slamming shut.
Gavan groans, sliding back from the desk. He grips my hair with both hands, his eyes wild and his jaw clenched tight as he fucks into my mouth over and over, until suddenly he explodes with a long, loud, toe-curling groan of pleasure that sends ripples through my core.
Cumblastsout of his cock, rope after thick, hot rope, exploding down my throat.
Grinning, my face flushed and my body tingling, I shiver with pleasure as he pulls me up and into his lap a moment later.
“What was that all about?”
He shrugs, making me gasp as he suddenly pulls my thighs to either side of his. The steel in his eyes goes molten as he centers his thick head against my eager pussy.
“Who cares.”
He sinks into me, making my eyes roll back.
Who cares, indeed.
20
EILISH
It’s beentwo weeks since the mugging. After assuring Gavan I was fully healed, we’ve gone right back to it: hard, brutal, explosive sex that I crave like a drug. Tied up. Bent over his desk. On his kitchen counter. Against the glass wall in his living room, looking out over the city.
There are times that it scares me just how comfortable I’ve become with it. I don’t see Gavan as a tyrant anymore, I see him as—
Well, okay, he’s still a tyrant. But he’s a tyrant that I am, for all intents and purposes,dating.
Kind of. Sort of. Maybe?
I don’t know. It’s confusing. But for the time being, it’s a ride I don’t want to get off just yet. And that’s fine.
Callie gives me a sharp look over the book in her hands when I step into the library of the Drakos family estate.
Okay, even “estate” doesn’t quite give their place the right amount of gravitas.
Though they later moved to London for a while, Callie and her four brothers—Ares, Hades, Kratos, and Deimos—were all born here in New York. And they were all raised in thismassive, breathtaking home on Central Park South that I’ve just walked into—a neoclassical mansion from the British countryside, as in it wasliterallya mansion in England that Callie’s great-grandfather had moved brick-by-brick and rebuilt on the roof of a forty-story building overlooking Central Park. It has grounds, gardens, andtwopools.
It's ridiculous.
Currently, though, with Ares and Hades happy in their own places, and Deimos back in London overseeing the Drakos operations over there, the only full-time residents of the sprawling mansion are Callie, Kratos, and their grandmother, Dimitra.
“Well, well, well…” Callie drawls, glaring at me.
My mouth goes small as I look at my feet. “I’m sorry.”
“For which part, exactly? Disappearing from the face of the earth for the last two weeks—after, I might add, that I took such good care of you after the hospital? Or for not freaking telling me that you were datingGavan fucking Tsarenko?” She eyes me up and down. “Or, wait, is it someothercataclysmically huge thing you’ve decided not to tell your best friend about?”
I sigh as I cross the room and sink onto the couch next to her. “Okay, I deserved that.”
She pouts. “Yeah. You do.”
“Thank you for taking care of me after I got discharged. Really. I’ve just been so busy with…you know, life?”
