I don't have words. This is fucking insane and yet I’ve never wanted something more. I thread my fingers through his hair and let him take what he needs.
His mouth is hot. Wet. Skilled in ways that still surprise me. He takes me deep, swallows around me, sets a rhythm that's designed to undo me. His hands grip my thighs, steadying himself, anchoring us both.
I watch him. The way his cheeks hollow. The way his eyes close in concentration. The way his throat works as he takes me deeper. He's beautiful like this, on his knees, giving pleasure instead of pain.
"Jinx." His name comes out rough, wrecked. "Fuck, you're destroying me.”
He hums in response, and the vibration makes my knees buckle. I brace myself against the wall, let my head fall back, let the sensation wash through me.
This man. This impossible, infuriating, incredible man. On his knees in an ancient antechamber, sucking my cock like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
The pressure builds. My fingers tighten in his hair. He moans, the sound muffled by my cock, and the vibration pushes me closer to the edge.
"Close," I warn him. "I'm close."
He doesn't pull off. Takes me deeper instead, throat relaxing, letting me slide all the way in. His nose presses against my stomach. His eyes open, meet mine, and the look in them is fierce. Possessive.
I come. Hard. Spilling into his mouth with a groan as he opens it and lets it drop to the ground in a fat blob.
The orgasm washes through me, leaving me shaking, staring down at the man I love.
Jinx pulls off slowly, deliberately. Licks his lips. Grins.
"Better?"
"Christ, what a time to get a blow job, but hey, now I’m focussed." I haul him to his feet, kiss him, taste myself on his tongue. "You're going to kill me someday."
"Probably." He kisses me again, soft this time. "But not today."
I tuck myself away, straighten my clothes. He does the same, composure falling back into place like armor.
We're ready.
The heavy door waits. Beyond it, the Board. The Custodians. The reckoning.
Jinx takes my hand and pushes the door open, and we walk into the lion's den.
The chamber is exactly as Jagger described.
Circular. Ancient. Ten seats arranged in a semicircle around a central floor. Torches burning in iron brackets, casting flickering shadows across stone walls carved with symbols and names. Centuries of history pressed into every surface.
The Custodians are already seated.
"Jinx Harrison." Sterling's voice echoes in the chamber, resonant with authority. "You were not invited to this session."
"The Harrison family holds a seat on this Board." Jinx's voice matches Sterling's, cold and commanding. "We're claiming it."
"The Harrison seat has been vacant for years. Your father—"
"My father is dead. I'm not." Jinx walks forward, toward the empty chair that bears his family's name. "I'm taking what's mine."
Brooks leans forward. "You can't simply walk in here and demand—"
"I'm not demanding anything." Jinx stops beside the chair, rests his hand on the carved back. "I'm telling you what's happening. The Harrison seat belongs to my family. I'm here to sit in it."
"This is highly irregular." Holloway, annoyed. "There are protocols, the Directors need to be here. Ceremonies. You can't—"
"Director Webb won't be joining us tonight," Jinx says, cutting him off. "He's dead."
