“God…” she moans, then fists my hair and pulls me to her. “You’re perfect, Dorran. So good.”
I grunt when my balls tighten at her praise, then widen my legs and rotate my hips in a way that allows me to fuck her deeper. She stretches so well for me,feelsso good around me.
We’re so close that we share the same breath. Her nipples brush against my pecs, and her eyes – hypnotic as always – hold mine as I continue to fuck her. Every time I thrust inside her wetness, she rocks against me, heightening our pleasures. I increase my pace, but just a little, only because I’m eager to feel her orgasm against my cock.
I love how we join; how every other feeling fails in comparison to her body on mine.
I groan and thrust forward, and her pussy squeezes around me – hard. Cignette presses her brows to mine and lets go of a sharp moan, seconds before her entire body shakes as she orgasms.
My release follows soon after. My spine stiffens, and my balls draw up as I spill inside her, with our lips merely an inch apart.
I stay with her like this for a while, basking in the overwhelming buzz I feel throughout me, then gently pull out of her before setting her on her feet. I clean the remaining blood off her hair and body, and once I’m sure there’s none of it left on her, I lead us out of the shower.
We don’t say anything, because really, no words could justify the calm between us. All I know is that it’s there, and I know Cignette feels the same, because she’s not as lost as she looked a few minutes ago.
I hand her a towel, and have just grabbed another one for myself, when my phone rings from the floor. Cignette leaves the bathroom and heads into my bedroom, and I pull my phone out from the pocket of my discarded jeans before receiving the call.
“Maverick.”
“Body’s been dealt with, and the guards have been spoken to,” he informs.
“And Miranda?”
“She apparently has a very important last-minute meeting with a realtor in Paris.”
What the fuck?
“Paris?”
Maverick sighs. “She’s planning to open shop over there, it seems, and is in need of a property.”
I arch a brow. “Tonight, of all nights?”
“Too convenient.” He clears his throat. “How’s Nettie doing?”
“She’s fine. You heading to the airport right now? It’ll take me at least 30 to get there.”
“I’ve almost reached, actually,” he says.
I grin. “Good; keep an eye on Miranda. I’m on my way.”
“Gotcha.” He ends the call.
I get dressed in the same clothes as before, and when I look up, I see that Cignette – still wearing the towel – is curled up on one side and is fast asleep on my bed.
I wish I could hold her, stay by her, but I’ve got work to do; a bitch to catch. And I won’t rest easy until she’s in my grasp.
I sigh and leave the bathroom. Staying as quiet as possible, I put a blanket over Cignette, making sure she’s otherwise comfortable, then head downstairs.
Ready or not, here I come, Miranda fucking Adler.
54.
The airport’s parking lot is thankfully secluded. It’s lined with cars, sure, but there’s not a single person in sight. Well, no one other than Miranda and her driver, who are currently still inside her silver Lexus. And from the looks of it, they seem agitated, but I can’t be sure what exactly it is that they’re doing.
“You see anyone?” Solo asks from next to me.
I shake my head, then look around. The airport is illuminated, given the hour, and there’s distinct chatter of people, and sounds of various vehicles near the gates.
