That intensity always did something to me, and now that I didn’t have to wait for our usual after-show fuck? My mind went straight to that filthy little place.
Before, I’d shove it down and tell myself to be patient, but not anymore. He was mine.
Peeling off my jacket, I let my wings unfurl, appreciating the shimmer of iridescence that told others I was taken.
I bit my lip, hovering for a second before silently gliding toward him. The hallway wasn't long, but because I was trying to stay as silent as possible, it felt like it took forever to get to him. The second my boots hit the floor with a heavythud, I took the tablet and shoved him back against my office door.
“What’cha looking at?” I purred, eyes locked on his lips as he let out a surprised grunt.
“Tonight’s setup,” he breathed, his eyes eating me up like he hadn’t just seen me this morning.
I slid my knee between his legs, forcing them apart, then dragged it up his thigh. When his gaze flicked to the camera in the corner, then back to me, I saw the flicker of hesitation. He knew Ras was watching. He always was. But, damn it, that just made it hotter.
“Let’s give him a show,” I whispered, hooking my arm around Van’s neck and yanking him down.
I expected him to fold, to let me lead like he always did, but the second our lips touched, I felt it. The shift.
His arms wrapped around me, his tongue invading with purpose, fingers dragging up my spine to the base of my wings before he wrenched me back. Bent me.Tookme.
The moan that ripped from my throat was raw, guttural, pulled from somewhere deep and aching.
One leg lifted and locked around his waist, my heel digging into his back as I rolled my hips into him, cursing the layers of fabric between us.
When we finally broke apart, we stayed close, foreheads pressed together, panting like we’d just sprinted across the damn continent.
“I think I can feel him vibrating with jealousy,” Van said smugly, his lips wet from our kiss.
I opened my mouth to agree, but my phone buzzed. Van stepped back immediately, knowing the rule: I had to check if it was my siblings.
With a huff, I pulled it out. Two texts lit up the screen.
Ras:Trying to make me jealous, huh?
Ras:It’s working.
I handedthe phone to Van, and he glanced down. With a wide smirk, he turned toward the camera, gave a dramatic little bow… then flipped it off.
Adorable. Petty. Sassy as hell.
Gods help me, I think I’m really going to enjoy having mates like them.
The hot moment was gone, so I handed Van’s tablet back. I wasn't too mad about the interruption since I’d gotten a cute memory instead.
He tucked the tablet beneath his arm then cupped my cheeks. “Do you want me to talk to them about Glen?”
“Of course, not! You think I can’t do this?” I scoffed and pulled away, my blood pressure rising by the second when I heard a set of footsteps coming our way. I shoved those feelings away as Cara and Fashi strolled up with linked arms, teased hair, and shredded outfits. They looked like they’d just survived the apocalypse, but they were smiling as if they’d just won the damn lottery.
“Boss!” they called, prancing over in nine-inch heels. “Look!” They motioned to their outfits. “We’re trying out a new scene tonight!”
I gave them an encouraging smile and a nod, pretending I knew what they were talking about. Behind me, Van leaned in and whispered, “Mr. Langston met the twins at the reopening last night and?—”
“He fell in love with us, obviously!” They giggled in sync.
Cara reached out, petting the air dramatically. “We always wanted a kitty.”
That jogged my memory. Morento Langston, a cheetah shifter. Rare, considering most non-were shifters came from Faerie. They were always seen as second-class citizens until they crossed the Veil. When they shifted, glowing lines lit their bodies like celestial tattoos, proof they weren’t from this world.
“We made a special night just for him!” Fashi clapped excitedly. “We’re going to be plane crash survivors who end up stranded on an island, and he’s the lone native who's never been able to act on his... urges.” Her lips twisted in a dramatic pout as a single finger traveled down her face, mimicking the path of a lonely tear.
