For a moment the world was bright and blinding, my heart slamming against my chest.
Then it all melted away into something soft and hazy. I disappeared into his mouth. Licking and sucking. Biting and thrusting. Devouring me, marking me internally.
Anyone could have been staring at me and I wouldn’t know or care. All I knew was Grim.
I fell apart to him speaking worshipping words against my pussy.
FORTY-ONE
GEMMA
No one spoke on the way home—no, nothome, I quickly corrected myself. This was not home. The drive lasted most of the night, and by the time we got back to Crowne Point, it was morning. I wasn’t sure where we’d gone, probably somewhere out of state.
Lock got out and held the door for me. That would never not be weird—the Horsemen being gentlemen.
The Horsemen started talking as they got to the foyer, about mundane and sundry things like whose turn it was to do the laundry.
Where was I? What was that place? Why was the fucking prince there again?
I followed Grim up the stairs, to his room, mind spinning, tongue tied.
“Tell me what that was,” I said before the door had even shut.
He paused, the muscles in his back twitching beneathhis black shirt. He shut the door with a soft click, then turned around, face a mask.
“The Underworld.”
I took a breath, trying to calm the tiny, scratching fingernails clawing at my chest?—
Anger.
Oh, I’m angry. Again.
Hmm.I’d spent the majority of my life numbing my overactive emotions, but with Grim, they bubbled up and over.
Because how dare he?
How dare he upend my life? How dare he whisper sweet promises to me while he was inside me andkeep fucking lying.
He glanced at my clenched fists, like he could see the thoughts in my head, and smiled.
“You keep saying that,” I said. “But you know I know of the Underworld as that fucking club.”
He dragged a hand across his jaw. “You got a lotta questions today, Rich Girl.”
“And, like always, you have zero fucking answers.”
Cool.
Fuckinggreat.
Of course nothing was changing. I went to move past him and open the door, needing space, needing a quiet place to question my life and my choices. Because, like, what the fuck was wrong with me that Iknewthis was our reality and I kept hoping for something different?
He grabbed my arm. “Wait.”
I stared at the inked fingers curled above my elbow, traveling up to meet his gaze. Some kind of foreign emotion clouded his eyes. Fear?
No, that couldn’t be right.
