Jade is a mess of smeared lipstick, swollen lips, and watery eyes as she takes me. No rush on the planet is better than this, not even being on the pitch with thousands of people chanting my name. Nothing compares to this feeling—nothing compares toher.
Jade shifts again on her heels, a mewl sneaking past her lips.
“Does sucking the soul out of my body turn you on, Hellfire?” She nods her head in assent, not daring to take me out of her mouth long enough to respond. “Do you want me to fuck you, baby? Ease the ache building betweenyour soft thighs?” She shakes her head no, tapping my thigh as if to say,this is about you, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me love her more. Always selfless, my Jade. “Touch yourself then. I don’t come without you.”
She wastes no time slipping her hand into her pants to start rubbing her clit, and I nearly combust at the sight. “That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good now, and later, I’ll fuck you like you deserve.”
She moans around my length, and I thrust, feeling the telltale signs of my impending release as sparks dance up my spine and I grow impossibly stiffer.
Jade’s sucks turn erratic, her focus going haywire as her moans turn louder, vibrating around my cock, sending me jerking forward. I spill inside her mouth just as she crests the final wave of her own pleasure.
I fall forward a little, catching myself on her desk before standing upright and easing out of her mouth. I quickly tuck myself back into my pants and kneel until we're eye to eye.
“Are you okay?”
She nods, bringing her fingers up and pushing them into my mouth. “You said you wanted a taste.” Her voice is a raspy midnight caress as I lick the sweetened musk of her release from her skin.
The sound of her stomach grumbling breaks the heated tension in the room, and both of us break out in laughter.
“Let’s go get you some food. You’re going to need to keep your energy up for the rest of the night I have planned for you.”
She takes the hand I extend for her to stand, and we sneak out of Knightsbridge Stadium, stealing away into the night.
The red silkof my gown shines under the lamplight as I walk up the steps into the hotel, careful to hold up the full skirt of my dress so I don’t trip. The bodice is tight, with a strapless, low sweeping neckline and a dangerously high slit going up the thigh on the voluminous skirt.
Aanya kept saying I was going to send everyone into cardiac arrest with the way my tits looked, Lottie vehemently nodding her agreement as we all got ready at my flat earlier. I never had real friends and was quickly learning that with the right ones, it was easy to get attached.
The gala tonight is one all Rugby Union teams are invited to, rivalries aside. Tieran told me it’s the one night a year each club puts their grievances on hold to come out and support because it benefits Kingdoms for Kids, a charity with an emphasis on placing kids in loving foster homes. The money made tonight will help fund the organization for the next year, providing meals and allowances for the children and their foster families.
Long story short, everyone behaves for the sake of the kids.
The hotel boasts an old world sort of charm, with warm lighting, chestnut wall paneling and floors, large, filigreed silk rugs, and ornate chandeliers hanging in every room. The extravagance is multiplied tenfold as I waltz intothe grand ballroom behind a group of men dressed in tuxedos, beautiful women draped on their arms. It’s hard to keep my jaw from dropping when the crowd clears and I take in the whole room. The rustic wood has been replaced with marble columns, gilded accents everywhere, and renaissance murals displayed on the ceilings. Crystal chandeliers line the vast room, hanging upwards of fifty feet high. Music trills through the air, winding around couples swaying on the expansive dance floor while others amble around, sipping champagne.
I’m struck speechless, taking in the grandeur of the room, when someone sidles up next to me. “Evening, Miss McKallen.”
Cavan Darcey stands tall next to me, as handsome as he is severe.
When I asked him during our one on one meeting what his goals were, his answer was painfully simple: to win. We haven’t spoken much since that day, but I know he knows about me and his best friend.
“Thank you,” I feel the need to say. “For your…discretion,” I add on, not sure if he heard me.
“We all have our secrets, Miss McKallen.” I follow his dark eyes across the room to where they’re settled on a beautiful woman with pastel pink hair wearing a dress that looks like liquid silver is pouring down her body. The expression on his face is one of tortured awe as he admires my friend. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to will the image of Lottie away, before he slowly turns his gaze to me. “Plus, you make him happy—happier than I’ve ever seen him. That’s all I care about.”
A lump the size of a boulder lodges itself in my throat. “I feel the same about him.”
Cavan’s lips curl at the corners ever so slightly, barely noticeable. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to check on. Enjoy your evening.”
No sooner has he gone than I feel a pair of eyes heatingme from head to toe. I find him within seconds, a crowd of people around him, talking and laughing, trying to get his attention but failing, because all his focus is on me.
His gaze rakes down my body like a phantom caress, and I suppress a shiver at the intensity of his stare. I step further inside the ballroom, my heels clicking against the floor as he tracks every move, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants.
He looks devastatingly handsome in his tux. The white of his button up is a stark contrast to his midnight black jacket and tanned skin. The only tattoo on display is the one inked on his neck.
Ephemeral, it reads.
I asked him about it one lazy morning as we lay in bed, Pebble between us at the foot of the mattress.
“It’s not important,” his voice is husky, still groggy from misuse, as he strokes my bare hip softly.
