“Jealous?” she breathed.
“Infuriated.”
He pressed her knee out wider and then wider still until she was spread open for him. His fingers continued up to the apex of her thighs, parting her lips and slicking through her wetness. She’d been hot all evening. On fire since the moment Beckham had seen her in her dress, and everything had only intensified through the night. Her body reacted instantly to his touch as he swirled a finger around her clit until she was quivering beneath his skilled hands.
Heedless of consequences, Beckham tugged both hoods off of their heads and slammed their lips together. There was nothing gentle in his touch. Just claiming her body as his own. Reminding her exactly where she belonged.
The tension had been palpable when they’d been in Graves’s mansion. He’d tested their limits. Pushed them beyond what they had even known they were capable. He might be manipulative, arrogant, and conceited, but he’d played them like a fiddle. And now they both wanted to erase the memory with the feel of each other’s body.
Beckham rocked her flat against the seat, splaying her out long. He hastily unbuckled his tuxedo pants and took his cock in his hand. A hand in her hair, lips melded together, bodies a furnace every place they touched, then his cock pressing against her waiting opening.
She gasped into his mouth. “Yes.”
He thrust to the hilt, burying himself inside of her. She threwher head back as he filled her to the brim. She’d been on the edge all night. God, she needed this. Needed him.
“Mine,” Beckham growled as he pulled out and pumped into her again.
She could sense that his anger about Graves had boiled over. This was a fervor that both of them couldn’t seem to find release from. They belonged to the other and they needed that belonging right now.
“I’m yours,” she repeated over and over again until her climax hit her like a tidal wave.
She cried out in the backseat of the limo as his own climax followed violently. As if his very roar of ecstasy could shake this world. And together they would remake it.
…
The rest of the ride was tense and silent.
Reyna had thought that, once they got that out of their system, things would go back to normal. But an uncomfortable strain echoed between them like a discordant song.
She’d never felt out of sync with Beckham. Even the days when she was terrified of him, where she had no idea what was going on in that limitless mind, even when she’d believed that he loved Penelope. They might have been on a different octave, but it was still in tune.
This stretched and expanded immeasurably.
All she had to do was reach out and touch his emotions to see what he was feeling. But she couldn’t. No, wouldn’t. Exposing herself to anything but his love was asking to push herself over the edge. He wouldn’t be pleased and she couldn’t blame him.
The limo finally came to a stop back at the pickup location. The driver opened the back door. “After you.”
Beckham slid out of the backseat. Reyna took a deep breathand followed him.
“Thank you so much for coming. Hope to see you again soon,” the driver said pleasantly.
Beckham inclined his head at the driver. Reyna threw him a half smile. She didn’t have to tap into Beckham’s emotions to know that seeing Graves again in this lifetime would be too soon. Reyna seconded that.
She followed Beckham through the double doors of the building. He’d already phoned Gerard to come get them when they’d gotten close. Gabe was waiting inside, pacing back and forth on the tiled floor like a caged animal. He’d changed into all-black attire. His red hair stark against the rest of his clothes. His jaw set.
His head snapped up at their approach. “About fucking time.”
“Hey, Gabe,” she said.
“It’s one o’clock in the fucking morning. You were gone for-fucking-ever.”
Reyna chewed her lip. She hadn’t even realized how long they’d been at Graves’s. Time had seemed to slow and stretch.
“Well, we’re here now,” Beckham said.
His eyes jumped from one to the other. “So, how’d it go? Did you get the information? What was it like? What washelike?”
Without even a single word, Beckham punched Gabe in the face. He fell back a few steps, spiraling his arms to try to stay on his feet. Then his hand went to his jaw as he cursed violently.
