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“Yes!” she screams, her nails digging into my back, her heels digging into my thighs. Each push into her body is a new shockwave of pleasure I ride closer and closer to completion, but not until she finishes first.

“Come for me, Angel,” I growl into her ear. In seconds, she’s thrashing her hands up and down my arms as her tight sheath contracts around my cock. Fucking hell yes. I keep going, keeping pace through her orgasm, and only when she slumps in my grasp, her body going limp, do I let myself finish, pounding into her one more time, pinning her tight between the wall and my own body.

I’m panting, drawing in as much air as possible, the pleasure spinning out until it slowly fades into a dull ache in my legs, my chest, my thighs, and my back. “I’m going to put you down now, Angel. Can you stand?”

She gives me a dreamy-eyed look. “Stand? Oh, yeah, if I have to.”

Gently, I put her on her feet until she gets her legs under her. They wobble like my own, but she keeps herself upright while she clings to my arm. “Can we go back to bed now? Or breakfast. Maybe both…”

I laugh softly. “Both is fine. I’ll order breakfast, and you get in bed. I’ll join you in a moment.”

When I usher her toward our room, mindful of anyone in the hall, I return to the command room and dress quickly, then grab her clothes as well in case she needs them later. Not if I have my way.

Back in the hallway to head toward the kitchen, I almost run down Andrea. She jolts to a stop and then retreats enough to put distance between us.

“Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

She snorts. “The entire penthouse heard why.” But she’s not mocking me. Her eyes are too solemn, and her response is nothing more than going through the motions, which makes me even more worried about her.

“Are you doing okay? Need anything?”

She ducks her chin, her long dark hair falling forward to hide the bruises still healing on her face. “No, I’m good, thank you. Let me know if you need me to do anything. With everything going on right now, I feel kind of useless.”

I reach out to touch her arm, but she flinches away before I can make contact.

“Fuck, sorry,” she mumbles and then rushes off down the hall before I can even say anything.

Kai will have to help her get a therapist in here in addition to the doctor. I can’t lose Andrea, not this way.

I march toward the kitchen, gather breakfast, then join my wife in bed.

For one fleeting second, I imagine us to be a normal couple enjoying a lazy morning in bed making love, appreciating each other.

Tomorrow is early enough to break the spell and figure out how to keep us all alive.

54

VALENTINA

It takes about a week, but slowly, I stop tiptoeing around the penthouse. It’s not that Adrian has come out and said he forgives me, and really, I don’t think he’ll ever be able to. Even if he says the words and plays the part.

Strangely, I don’t feel like I need that forgiveness. It’s mostly because Adrian won’t say a single word about it, unlike the man who raised me. My father used to rub every slight back in my face.

I quickly learn the others are slower to forgive, especially once they learned about my condition. Michail, with his quiet intensity, refuses to speak to me. Kai, when he does speak now, mostly uses a chilled tone I don’t recognize from the perpetual flirt of a man I’d come to know. But it comes and goes, like he remembers a little to late that I betrayed his best friend and boss. Not that he’s ever risked flirting with me. But I saw it all too well the last time Adrian dared to take me out of the house.

That’s become my problem now. Adrian refuses to take me anywhere or allow me to leave his sight longer than a few minutes. As much as I love his attention, it’s hard being his sole focus because having Adrian’s concentration is like being choked to death with the softest silk on the planet. You’re not sure if you want to run or ask for more.

I sit in Adrian’s office today while he works quietly at his desk. They’d moved an oversized chair that swallows me whole into the corner, and I have to admit it’s the most comfortable piece of furniture I’ve ever sat on.

This is how I spend most of my time now. If not in the command room, I’m always only a few feet from him and no more. Some days, it’s thrilling—like when he lifts me up on his desk and orders everyone out—and other times, it’s boring.


Tags: J.L. Beck Crime