Royce was wrong. Ascension wasn’t a bomb.
It was a Trojan Horse.
FOUR
AFTER A TEN-YEAR SIEGE AGAINST THE CITY OF TROY, the Greeks constructed a huge wooden horse, only to abandon it and set off to sail their army home. The Trojans hauled the horse inside their gates, claiming it as a war trophy, unaware of the danger hidden inside.
That night, after the city was asleep, thirty of Greece’s finest warriors slipped out from inside, including King Menelaus, and opened the gates. The Greek army hadn’t sailed away—they burst out of hiding and stormed the city.
Troy finally fell, and Helen was reunited with her husband.
The most famous of the Greek myths endured. A Trojan Horse was anything your foe invited inside that brought about their own destruction.
Royce’s blue eyes were fixed on me as I knelt between his spread knees, my hands on his thighs and his pants undone.
“Acquiring anything right now when our stock is down is risky enough, but when the board realizes what a terrible deal my father made? I’ll call for a vote of no confidence and strip him of his seat.”
The puzzle pieces snapped into place. “That’s why you voted against it, even though you want the deal to go through.”
A smile curled on his lips. “The board will see me as the smarter, reasonable Hale.”
I nodded. “The one who’s a better fit to be in control.”
“My father’s strength is also his biggest weakness, and he’ll commit the cardinal sin of business. He doesn’t care about the deal, or if it’s any good, he just wants to win.”
I knew firsthand it was true. Not just with the chess game or the night in the maze, but the whole way Macalister acted toward me. He didn’t care if seducing me was a good idea. He only wanted to beat his son.
A dark laugh threatened to escape from me as I resumed my plan of getting my mouth on Royce. I curled my fingers around his underwear-covered dick, massaging him through the soft fabric.
Macalister had certainly failed, hadn’t he? It was pointless he’d even tried to make me his. I’d belonged to Royce the second I looked up from the book I was reading in the Hale library last year and discovered his provocative eyes staring at me.
I captured my bottom lip between my teeth as I slipped my fingers under his waistband and inched his underwear past his hipbones. I worked the elastic down just until he was exposed. He was thick and hard, laying across his thigh, and when I leaned in, he twitched.
Once again, his words were full of subtext. “Do you like my plan?”
“I do,” I whispered.
And then I sucked in a breath and ran the tip of my tongue up the length of him in one tentative lick.
It made his whole body shudder and his voice tight. “Oh—fuck—I think your plan is better.”
I giggled, both at his humorous statement and my nerves. His head dipped back when I did it again—this pass slower and more exploratory. His skin was so soft, warm and velvety smooth against my tongue.
My unsure caresses must have sent the message to him that I was looking for direction, because he adjusted and leaned back on one hand, freeing the other to cup the side of my face. His tender touch disarmed and guided me to take him inside my mouth.
A deep, appreciative sigh rained from above as I widened my lips and slid down, taking more of him in. All the way until my mouth was full and I could take no more. I wrapped a fist around the base of him, holding his dick steady while also stopping him from going any deeper.
“Oh, God, yes,” he groaned.
Pleasure ripped through me in a hot flash, landing as a pulse in the center between my legs. It felt different than when he touched me, but just as good. It stimulated my mind, rather than my body.
His fingers were buried in my hair and rested on the nape of my neck, and he used his touch to urge me to hold still. It was so he could slowly retract his hips, easing himself out of my mouth.
The head of his dick just cleared my lips before he began his advance. The push of him inside me in this new place was erotic. Hot. And when he let out another satisfied sigh, power coursed through my veins.
Before, I hadn’t understood the appeal of the act. The enjoyment seemed one-sided.
But, oh, there was pleasure here.
It burned in my body with each labored breath Royce fought for and every stroke as he worked himself in and out of my pursed mouth. I enjoyed finding new ways to draw out his sounds of contentment. He groaned when I swirled my tongue. He throbbed when I sucked. A gasp poured from him when I tightened my fist and tried to keep still, letting him control the tempo.