Page 88

I should look away.

I don’t.

Damon toys with her, teasing her body. Arianette’s head falls back against his shoulder, lips parted on a moan I can’t hear, but can perfectly imagine. Hunter leans forward, completely riveted. Damon says something to him, and Hunter’s hand joins in, touching her while Damon continues to control the pace.

My breath grows heavier. I shift in the chair as a throb pulses between my legs–the first real stirrings of arousal I’ve felt since the surgery. The doctors warned me this might happen. Meds. Trauma. The slow grind of recovery. Some mornings I wake up half-hard, but nothing like every other day in my life. Nothing with real heat behind it.

Until now.

Seeing her like this–skirt pushed up, fishnets stretched tight over her thighs, head thrown back in pleasure while my replacement and his Baron touch her–it does something dangerous to me. Jealousy burns hot in my veins, but so does pride. And want. Deep, vicious want.

I want to be the one commanding her. The one making her fall apart while keeping Hunter steady. The one guiding them both through his darkness, but I lost the right to that in the tunnel that night, along with my secrets and power.

On screen, Hunter suddenly stops. He says something to them, then stands, pulling Arianette up with him. The three of them head toward the private rooms in the back. The camera angle changes as they disappear down the hallway.

I pause the footage for a moment, breathing hard.

My hand moves almost without thought, sliding down into my cotton pants. I’m hard, thickening rapidly as I wrap my fingers around myself. The first real stroke pulls a low groan from my chest. It feels foreign and familiar at the same time–my body remembering what it’s capable of.

The urge to watch and see this through is as intense as the throbbing in my erection. Reaching back for the laptop, I switch camera angles and find them again.

Inside the dimly lit room, Damon takes control immediately. He directs Hunter and commands him to strip her down. I drink in the sight of Arianette’s body. She’s so fucking beautiful. Those perfect tits and soft hips.

The scene blurs–the eroticism of watching the three damaged souls I brought together find a rhythm. I stroke myself, matching their movements with my own. I imagine it’s my mouth and tongue fucking her pussy. My hands toy with those charms dripping from her nipples. My hand moves faster. Pleasure coils tight at the base of my spine, sharp and urgent. I haven’t felt this in so long. The aching need builds in my chest but is nothing compared to the fire building lower.

I’m half out of my mind when Hunter loses control. Too rough. Too hard. He’s reined in, as he should be, but my Daughter of Darkness? She liked it. I can see it in the way her body moves, desperate little gyrations looking to get off. It’s in the wetness between her legs. The way her tongue swipes over her lips, searching for another taste.

They restart more carefully this time. Damon stays close, guiding Hunter until he flips her over and, for the first time, takes her, hands on her hips, thrusting into her deep and hard, but controlled.

I close my eyes for a second and imagine it a different way: three of us instead of two. Her body full–mouth, pussy, ass. We don’t take turns; we claim her as one, and Arianette takes everything we give her–strong, beautiful, insatiable.

A strangled sound escapes me as I stroke harder, thumb brushing over the head with every pass. My hips lift slightly off the chair, chasing the sensation.

On the screen, Arianette comes first, her whole body shaking as she cries out. Hunter follows moments later, burying himself deep and groaning as he fills her. Damon steps forward, stroking himself until he finishes on her tongue, marking her as she looks up at him with hazy, devoted eyes.

The sight pushes me over the edge.

The orgasm hits me hard. A sudden rush of blood pumping heat. I grit my teeth, groaning low as I come over my own fist, pulses of pleasure rolling through me that border on painful after so much time. My body shudders with the release, breath coming in harsh pants.

When it finally fades, I slump back in the chair, heart hammering, staring at the paused footage on the screen.

The jealousy is still there, sharp and ugly.

But so is something else.

A deep, undeniable hunger to reclaim my place.

I clean myself up with a tissue, close the laptop, and sit in the dark for a long time, the taste of tea long gone from my mouth, thinking about the statement Graves wants me to give and if I have the guts to make it.

24

Damon

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I glance at the screen, and my stomach drops when I see the name.

I answer immediately. “Rikki?”

Her voice is high and shaky, barely above a whisper. “Damon… you need to come.”