Instead, I fill it with his dick.
He moans as he grips my hair. He tries pulling me back, but I hold onto his hips, sucking him fast. “Fuck, Nika, I’m going to come, baby.”
I whimper, licking quicker, sucking faster.
“Damn it baby, you’re going to make me come—you don’t want me to fuck you? You don’t want me to fill your pretty pussy up? Oh fuck?—“
He loses himself in my mouth. He comes hard and I swallow it, struggling a bit at the volume. I lick it eagerly, pull back with a gasp, swallowing the last bit. He groans, melting back, and buries my mouth with his, likely tasting a touch of his own salty seed, and clearly not caring.
God, I’m so pathetic.
I couldn’t even tell him that I love him.
“I should take you out to dinner more often,” he says with a heavy-lidded smile when I pull back.
I wipe my mouth primly. “Don’t think I’m going to do that all the time.”
“Why not? Don’t pretend you don’t love the way I lose control in your mouth.”
I feel a shiver of excitement. “Okay, I do like that.”
“I know.” He leans in and kisses me again. “Come on, love. Let’s go inside. We’ve got one more night. I want to spend it with you in bed.”
“Yeah? Even after I did that?”
“Especially because you did.” He tightens his grip on my hair before exhaling and releasing me. “Tomorrow is going to be hard, love, but we’ll get through it.”
“I know we will.”
He looks like he wants to say something more, but instead, he pushes open the door and gets out of the car.
As I follow, I notice two things.
First, he called melove, and he did it twice.
And second, I wonder if there’s something he’s holding back too.
CHAPTER 32
GABE
Part of me expects Paris to be gone. A smoking, stinking, ugly crater. Instead, as my caravan of armored cars rolls back into the city, my wife leaning quietly against my shoulder, it looks like life’s still grinding along.
I don’t know how, when it feels like my world’s going to end soon.
There are plans, plans within plans, ideas and beliefs and guesses, but none of them matter. There’s an old saying: even the best plans go out the window when you get punched in the face.
I expect to get punched a lot in the next few hours.
But I’m in the best position I can be, given the circumstances. Nika’s by my side, Mass is at my back, and I haven’t given up yet.
Far from it.
My only regret is Daniel. I wish he could be here with us now, but he’s still recovering. He wanted to come—practically tried to threaten me to let him—but I wasn’t about to risk it.
Besides, I don’t need guns right now.
“Ah, another high-end hotel,” Nika says as we dump our bags in the suite. We’re staying at a beautiful place right in the heart of the city. No reason to hide anymore.
