And for the first time, one hand pinching my nipple, the other planted on my hip, he leans in and kisses me.
It’s deep and dangerous and messy. I’m still riding Faust’s fingers. Still chasing the wave. Our teeth clash, and then I’mthere,and Sylvan presses his temple to mine, then slaps my breast with a downward motion, causing me to cry out in pleasure.
And he says, “Say my fucking name,” in a way that’s half a command but mostly a plea.
And I do.
I say it.
“Sylvan, fuck.”With my free hand, I reach for him, my arm up and slung over his shoulder, my nails grasping at his shoulder blade. My pelvis is arched, and Faust is praising me and humiliating me all at once. When I come, I feel iteverywhere,head to toe, and I’m shaky when Faust slows and awareness filters back in.
Sylvan is still holding my breast, my hip. Faust’s arm is still around my waist, his fingers cupping me.
The tension seems to fall heavy again in the quiet as I fight to blink open heavy lids, and icy eyes connect with mine.
And Faust says, his cheekbones pressed to mine so we’re both staring at Sylvan, “Do you want to hurt her?”
Sylvan’s nostrils flare, and he cuts his gaze to Faust. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
Confusion seeps into my brain. I thought the setup was this moment, and that, I was down for.
But there seems to be real anger in Sylvan’s tone, and even Faust’s body behind me is tense.
“She could die happy now, you know.” Faust speaks as if I’m not here.
I grab his wrist and yank his hand away from my thighs. He laughs but allows me the motion, only to grip my jaw softly and guide me to look at Sylvan.
Something flickers behind Sylvan’s gaze.
He slides his palm up, over my collarbone, the silk of my shirt leaving little to the imagination when it comes to his touch. His path continues higher, over my throat, my jawline, then he grazes Faust’s fingers, before he clamps down on his wrist. I can feel his knuckles along my skin from his hold as his eyes cut to Faust’s.
“If you betray meonce,”he says in a dead tone,“you’renext.”
And just like that, whatever made Faust so strange, so different from how I’d assumed he was, seems to vanish.
It melts from his body in waves, I feel his chest relax, then his fingers on my jaw. He’s caressing my face instead of keeping me prisoner, using me as a hostage.
I frown in the darkness of the entryway, my skirt a mess, my body like a pawn between these two hockey players.
“What thefuckis going on?” I snarl, my voice throaty and raw. “Did you…” I stare at Sylvan. “Hurt Ace?”
Sylvan’s eyes flash. “Why? Are you upset you didn’t get to fuck him?”
I take a breath. I don’t speak.
Faust kisses the top of my head which only confuses me more, and I see life return to Sylvan’s eyes.
Then a loud buzzing sound fills the silence, my question going unanswered. I startle, because Ifeelit more than hear it. And it takes Sylvan saying softly, “Your phone, Neve,” for me to understand where it’s coming from.
I keep most of my notifications off so I know when my phone rings, it’s important. Quickly, I dive my hand into the shocking side pocket of my mini skirt, and with shaky fingers, pull my cell out.
It’s Nolan.
He’s calling me, which is unusual without a text first, and his notifications are prioritized, so I would’ve seen it.
When I swipe to answer the call, allowing myself to lean against Faust now that I know he’s really not going to kill me, my eyes connect with Sylvan’s.
This close, he undoubtedly saw the name on my screen.
