I moan around his finger and swirl my tongue around, clenching around his cock when he tosses his head back and groans, rocking into me. He removes his finger from my mouth to push down the fabric containing my breasts and releases them. His expert fingers twist my nipples, releasing tingling flurries that dance across my skin and pool in my belly as my pleasure builds. My pussy tightens around him.
“You're such a greedy little whore for my cock, darling.”
“Oh, Preston,” I breathe.
“When I saw those soaked panties, I knew you’d make a mess on my cock.”
“You feel like—”
His thumb finds my clit, making me cry out. “Like what,mo ghrá?”
Heat floods my neck. My chest. My cheeks and all the way down to where my pussy is being filled. “Like you were made for me,” the admission is effortless.
Preston thrusts in and out, his focus falling to where we’re connected. “Shittt,” he hisses in an exhale. “I was. As you were for me.”
My hands reach out, gliding along his abdomen as his hips slam into me. I’m breathless as I ask, “Preston.”
“Hmm?”
“What doesmo ghrá mean?”
“It means,my love, baby.”
Oh shit. My breath is shallower now, the oxygen feeling weak as I draw in air. My orgasm is swirling, his words carrying me closer to euphoria. Stars are starting to dance in my vision. Little white lights vibrating, making me shake below him from the pleasure.
Draping his massive body over mine like a security blanket, his clammy skin plasters to mine. His thrusts are controlled, his dick now going so deep that he’s hitting that sensitive spot over and over again.
My question is a whimper. “But you said that to me when you caught me in the garden.”
His mouth falls to my shoulder, his teeth gently nipping at the skin there as he pounds into me. He soothes it with his tongue, his words lathering over my skin. “I know. I’ve loved you since you stabbed me with your knife. You told me to ruin you, but that was the moment you completely ruined me.” A desperate sound escapes my throat. His lips lift against my skin.“Fuck, your pussy is squeezing me so tight. You like hearing me admit that, baby?”
“Preston, I’m going to come.” My arms knit over the hard planes of muscle in his back.
“Come on my cock,mo ghrá.Let go for me so I can fill this tight cunt and make a mess out of you like you’ve made of me.”
The stars burst. Bright white light floods behind my eyelids as I orgasm at the same time he does. I feel like I’m floating. Warmth coats my walls, the sensation of him filling me, making me want never to come down from the heavens.
But I always will, because here is where he is, and I was almost torn from Preston once.
I have blood on my hands now, too.
And I’d cover them again if it means I can always come home.
FORTY-THREE | PRESTON
Lounging back against the couch, I soak in the warmth from the tabletop fire pit in front of me and the beautiful woman tucked into my side with her hand draped on my chest. Night blankets us, the reminder making me want to take Kate to bed and make love to her again like I have tried to every night since she walked out of my bathroom in that lingerie that nearly gave me a heart attack.
Kate tugs at my t-shirt with her fingers, her head resting against my shoulder as she watches the flames dance into the air. Her soft, even breaths soothe me, along with the nip in the air that brushes across the patio. The kind of chill in the air that hints at the approaching season of fall.
All I want is more time with Kate. Although the park may be slowing now that school has started again and summer vacation is over, we are still head-fucking-deep in this war with the Calco Cartel that I’m determined to end.
Life may feel a little more peaceful now with Kate by my side, but I won't let my guard down until my blade plunges into Luciano’s heart and both carotid arteries in his neck. I’ve neverbeen into throat slitting; it’s too quick, but my darling inspired me.
I twirl the scotch in my glass, taking a sip. The spiced flavors bloom on my tongue and slip down my throat. My father lounges in one of the outdoor patio furniture chairs across from me, Carter in the matching one, while Kate and I are on the loveseat. I’m grateful that we’ve found small moments like this to exist together now that Kate and my father are on speaking terms.
I’ve started noticing he has a soft spot for her. I think it’s especially therapeutic for him when he can talk to her about my mother and Tayla. When he can speak about their memories in the way they deserve, since we’ve bottled it up for so long. I’m grateful Kate can give him something I can’t. It’s still too hard to mention them sometimes, but I’m getting better.
She sometimes sits with him in the garden, knowing he feels closer to my mom there, since it was her favorite place on the estate.
