Serious takes me to dark places.
“I know you can’t talk,” I say, “but if you promise not to make a sound, we can fuck you nice and slow.”
Luna nods, and without needing to move much, Elijah pushes inside her. Gripping tightly onto me, she keeps her promise, gritting her teeth against calling out as Elijah rolls his hips, shifting the water enough that it overflows the tub. My hand grazes her nipples and grips the softness of her breast, watching all the tiny flickers of arousal in her expression, keeping track of her responses in a way I’ve never needed to before.
The forced silence makes everything seem furtive. Even Elijah is biting his lip as he thrusts faster. Luna’s eyes scrunch closed, the concentration wrinkling the top of her sweet nose. I press a kiss there, wanting to commit everything that’s happening to memory for cold nights in the future. My finger finds her slick, swollen clit beneath the water, rubbing in tight circles that mirror the tempo of Elijah’s movements, and I watch the moment Luna starts to come apart with absolute awe.
She keeps her promise, swallowing the moans that she usually makes, shuddering through her pleasure. Elijah pulls out, using his hand to finish.
Wasting no time, I pull her onto my lap, wrapping her limp legs around my waist. It takes nothing to push inside her. Elijah’s made her slippery and stretched her open nicely. The first thrust feels like heaven wrapped around my cock. Luna’s arms hook around my neck to stabilize her, and even though he’s still reeling from his orgasm, Elijah is there to kiss the back of her neck and finger her nipples. God, it’s something to watch Luna’s head drop back with ecstasy as the two of us work to satisfy her. Two of us master her body and scramble her mind enough that the incident that happened tonight seems forgotten.
We lift Luna from the trials and tribulations of her life into a place that’s safe and filled with satisfaction, and for the minutes that I’m buried inside her, I go to that safe place too. When she comes around my cock, I’m not expecting the vice-like pulsation of her pussy to trigger my own orgasm. My cock, buried deep inside her, releases a rush of heat from my body to hers and I groan so loudly it’d wake the neighbors.
We’re all panting and hot, the water and exertion bringing a pink flush to our cheeks.
And as I come down from the most intense orgasm of my life, it’s only then that the outside world creeps in again.
I hold Luna tight against me, knowing that this will be the last time we’re this close.
Sometimes love is fleeting.
It sweeps into our lives, taking us by surprise.
Sometimes love can’t be the permanent state we want it to be, no matter how much we want or how much we fight.
Sometimes we have to let go because it’s the only way to save the person we love. Luna can’t be the superstar she is with seven lovers.
Tomorrow will be a terrible day, but for now, my girl is in my arms, and everything is okay.
24
LUNA
I can tell that there is something going on.
All the indications are there in the constantly worried looks passing between my bodyguards. It’s there in the fact that I heard Angelica banging on the door to the hotel suite, but nobody let her in. It’s there when I go to look for my phone, and it’s not in my purse.
I don’t ask what’s happening, though. I’ve learned to trust that my men are doing everything they can to shield me from stresses in the outside world, and I’m tired. So tired of trying to keep me together.
I miss home. I miss my brother and my best friend, Jordy. I miss having my feet firmly on home ground.
So instead of asking why, behind all the bright smiles, there’s an atmosphere similar to a funeral, I settle into bed with Connor and Mo and let them shoulder the burden. I keep my worries stuffed down deep the way I’m used to doing. I swallow my fears and rest my voice like I’ve been ordered to do. In the morning, we’re flying to London.
At daybreak, when everything is packed, Connor gives me a black baseball cap, sunglasses, and a scarf to try to shield me as much as possible from the prying eyes of the pap photographers and rabid fans. “Keep your head down,” he says.
Then Mo hands me some earbuds and a phone that isn’t mine. It’s already playing some calming music, and I don’t question why they want my attention focused elsewhere.
I’m hustled into the waiting car so fast I feel as though my feet never touched the sidewalk. At the airport, we enter into a VIP security area, and all the checks are handled by Steel 7. Today, they seem even fiercer than usual, their eyes darting in a way that seems fearful, muttering observations into their audio equipment.