I pushed her hand away. That was my job.
“You wanna come?”
“Yeah.”
I pinned her arms with both hands. She grunted and squeezed my cock with her pussy.
I reared back and rammed deep, rotating my hips, fucking her hard.
“Tommy, please,” she tried to wrestle her arms free.
“Who’s in charge?” I asked.
She blew out a breath, “You. Please. I need to come.”
“You come when I let you come.”
“Hurry! You’re torturing me. I need you.”
I couldn’t deny her. I put my hand to her clit and fucked her hard.
“Come with me, baby…” she pleaded while I kept playing with it until she came, hard, calling out my name.
I came inside her, then, emotion fucking pouring out of my soul at the idea that I might not’ve had this… had something worse happened the night before, had I not been able to save her.
I collapsed onto her, shutting my eyes tight to try to push away the flood of thoughts about Johnny, lying in a hospital bed, wondering how he could possibly survive without the woman he loved, how he’d face his children. He’d probably blame himself for getting involved in the Fete project; he’d wish he’d put out a hit on Leo Fucking Denarda months back when the bullshit had started.
Then my mind flashed to that waiter with his gun to Tia’s head, his arm hooked around her throat.
I rolled to my side, pulled her tighter against me, locking her against my body, burying my face in her hair, which smelled like it was supposed to. It took a while to fall asleep but when I did, I did it grateful to have her in my arms and vowing no one would ever fucking touch her again. I didn’t know how I’d manage that but fuck, I’d die trying to keep her safe.
Two hours later I had to go beat on my heavy bag because nightmares of Tia under a pile of rubble, her beautiful face crushed, that hair covered in blood, woke me up.
Angel
Dare left me alone. I don’t know how long he was gone but I needed to do something. I needed the beach. Our spot. It would help me feel like me again, maybe. If it didn’t work, I’d have to fake an illness or something to get out of being seen by the Kruna leadership team for the rest of the day. I was undone.
The beach. It’d help.
I picked my clothing up off the floor and put it back on, and then I brushed my hair and checked the mirror. I didn’t look like me. I looked like her. Felicia. The slave who just beat someone bloody with a dragon’s tail whip.
I turned away from myself in disgust and walked out of the bathroom and slipped on my flipflops. I felt for my collar to count my three strands. And then I walked out of the room and down the hall. I saw Truly coming out of a room a few doors down. She was wearing a double-strand collar and an emerald green merry widow corset with black thigh-highs and metallic green stilettos .
“Felicia,” she greeted, a little smile on her mouth.
“Truly,” I said.
She slowed.
“Walk with you?” she asked.
I was a little surprised.
“I heard what happened with Cleo,” she whispered, “Bravo.”
I slow-blinked.
“I need to warn you about something,” she said very low, her hand covering her mouth.