Andthis—this was the image I would take home with me. Gemma’s wide blue eyes, lips parted. Her features soft and open. Vulnerable.
This was what Gemma Crowne’s trust looked like.
And she was giving it to me.
I captured her mouth in mine. Kissing her brutally, bruising her, memorizing her with my tongue, marking her with my bite. Her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, over and over again, trying to steal a lifetime’s worth of kisses in one night. Her sighs fogged my flesh, her lips searched for mine.
“Mi locura,” I breathed against her lips.
My madness.
Because that was what she was.
I was mad with her.
Mad with want.
Mad with need.
Fuckinginsane.
I licked the side of her neck, up to her ear, then back toher lips. She clenched, and shit, I was ready to go again. Her nails dug deeper into my chest.
“Santos—”
Fireworks blasted off in the distance—the Crowne family Fourth of July party. It was booming, thunderous popcorn in the sky. And it shattered the moment.
I could feel the change.
Feel her walls build back, brick by brick.
Feel our stolen moment leave and disappear into history.
I slid out of her, ignoring the way her eyes widened at the reminder of me. I slid back into my wet jeans, zipping them up as I stared down at her in the sand. Her dress was tangled around her hips. Naked. My come leaked milky onto her thighs and into the sand.
In a final, reckless moment, I knelt down, shoving my finger inside her, pushing the come back inside. I knew everything about Gemma, like I knew she was on birth control. She got the injection every few months.
Her mouth dropped.
“Don’t do this shit again,” I said, pumping my come deep inside her.
“You don’t fucking own me,” she hissed.
“That’s not what you said a few minutes ago.” I smeared my come across her clit, causing her to arch and shiver.
Then I stood back up.
She got to her elbows, still open for me. I stared down at Gemma, legs spread—waiting for me. She’d let me take her again. She wanted it.
Her rose gold hair was wild and knotted, mascara smeared black beneath her blue eyes. Her freckles faintly visible beneath all the crap she piled on. And fuck if that didn’t get me hard, again.
God damn.
My fucked-up princess.
With a clenched jaw, I left. Left before I did something neither of us could come back from.
I left the beach in a daze, still mindless as I walked into the house and up the stairs. The rest of the Horsemen were out—out where I wassupposedto be—prepping for the Underworld Fourth of July party.
