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This is the control she wants.

The surrender she craves.

And it’s hot as hell.

My eyes flutter closed.

I hold on to my last bit of strategy. We’ve done enough to condemn Fuches. The hard work is over.

There’s really only one reason to hold back:

To protect my heart.

But I don’t.

I give her what she wants. What we both want.

I surrender to my need for her. Let my thoughts dissolve. Let pleasure flood my senses.

My fingers dig into her hair.

She works me again and again, sucking harder, wrapping her hand more tightly.

I toy with her nipple exactly the way she likes.

Until she’s groaning against my cock.

Until she’s dripping with need.

And then I’m gone. Lost in the free fall of giving her control.

That turns me on more than anything.

The pleasure inside me winds to a fever pitch.

Then it releases. The world goes white. Nothing but pure, blinding bliss.

Jamie presses her hand against my thigh to hold me in place.

To insist. That is mine.

She waits until I spill every drop and swallows hard.

She looks up at me as she wipes her lip. “That was better than I remembered.”

She fixes my clothes, rises to her knees, climbs up my body, and settles into my arms like a cat settling in for pets.

She’s a predator, not a housecat, but I let myself live in this fantasy, for a moment.

I let myself believe that somehow, we can spend the rest of our lives together.

After, we take the camera, sneak out the back, and take the car straight to the hotel. I process the footage while she sets up the blackmail email.

It’s a clever setup. One designed to turn us into allies against an unknown enemy. One designed to put him to work for us.

When she’s done, she showers, changes into that pink silk robe she was wearing in Rome, and brings a glass of wine to the balcony.

She lets out a soft sigh as she takes in the warm evening. One that’s all peace and calm.