Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
DIORA
I’ve never had my own office before. Nor did I ever think that I’d be helping run hits for a society of serial killers and hitmen.
I also never thought I’d have a dream or a man who’d do anything, even spend twenty-five million dollars on a house, to make it happen.
I’m not the kind of person to get a happy ever after. Good things don’t happen to bad people… yet here I am, in a sky high office, surrounded by the people I love, helping people who are like me.
Bad. Evil. but not completely gone.
We kill people, and so do the many members of the Society around the world, and I still get to have my happy ending.
Even better, Mom and Dad were wrong. My badness didn’t rub off on Juliet, even after she found out about it.
I came clean about what Mom did when I was six, the scar on my forearm not being me, or an accident, but a moment of weakness for Mom. I like to think that maybe, one day, my parents and I can come to love each other like a normal family, but I know, deep down, we aren’t normal.
Plus, I’d take the life I have now over the life I could’ve had, had I been normal.
“You called?” Elliot slides into my office and shuts the door behind him. I watch as he glides to one of the chairs in front of my desk. A vision of me sucking him off at his desk in downtown Litchfort in his studio apartment flashes through my mind.
Hmmm.
“Yes, I did,” I say, staring at my man. My handsome man.
A shiver runs down my spine in excitement.
I love being in the same room as him. I could live the rest of my life handcuffed to him.
As it gets colder in the fall, he wears more layers.
His crewneck sweatshirts are his favorite, and he wears one now, with a teddy bear embroidered on it. How damn cute.
Pulling back my shoulders, I flip my hair back and stare at him directly in his eyes. “I want your sweatshirt on the floor.”
“Oh, really?” he asks, smirking at me. I lick my lips as one of his eyebrows goes up. His sweatshirt doesn’t come off, though. “Is that why you brought me here? To demand office sex?”
“It’s not demanding if you want to, too, right?” I ask, standing from my desk and circling it to stand directly in front of him.
“No, I guess not,” he says, and his sweatshirt is off, but he has another layer on, too. A t-shirt. My smile drops and nod toward his still clothed torso.
“Oh, this, too?” And I know he’s playing me. He knew exactly why I called him in here, and now he wants to be cute.
“No, it’s okay. I got it,” I say, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, the dagger from my pencil cup is in my hands and cutting a line straight down the middle of his shirt. Nicking his lower stomach. A thin drop of blood bubbles over the torn skin, and I have half the urge to lick it up.
But this is my office.
He needs to kneel for me.
“The office has a no fucking rule.”
“When have we ever been rule followers, handsome?” I ask as I sit back on my desk, my legs hanging and my heels threatening to slip off. “Are you really gonna tell me no?”
“Absolutely not, Little Crane.”
I hook one of my heels under the leg of his chair, and with great strength, pull him closer to me. His chair doesn’t move far, but I don’t need it to.
Leaning forward, I see the amusement dance in his eyes as I cross my arms. My hair flies forward like a curtain.
I don’t have to say anything before his hands shoot for my waist and he’s pulled me into his lap, his lips meeting mine.
My hands find his soft hair, and my legs straddle him as our chests brush each other.
I love his skin against mine. The warmth, the blood pumping through his veins, the aliveness of Elliot Jay, is like a drug.
I try to touch more of him, his cut open shirt giving me free range of his chest. Pushing myself closer to him, I accidentally tip the chair, and we go flying toward the floor.
I try to break free of his kiss to laugh and fix ourselves, but his lips remain on mine and his hands dig into my hips to get me to stay. I’m high off the rush of the fall, and if he wishes to stay, then so be it.
Kneeling, under, sideways; however Elliot Jay will take me, I’ll let him.
His hands slip up my short dress and my bottom is bare to the air, feeling just how much he wants me through the fabric of his jeans.
“No underwear?”
“Not when you’re here,” I murmur. He smiles, taking the straps of my dress down and letting it slide down my body so it lays twisted up at my stomach.
The dress also didn’t call for a bra, which I’m grateful for, seeing the look in his eyes.
He leans down to take a breast into his mouth.
He licks my nipple before sucking, and I grind my hips against his thigh, needing the pressure, the friction.
I feel wild as I hump his leg with my breast in his mouth. He doesn’t stop there and nips at the underside of my boob, which has me gasping for breath.
“God, Elliot.” I groan, feeling the heat building in my core. I think I’m going to come before he even enters me.
“Use me, baby, I’m all yours,” he whispers in my ear and I nearly collapse. I love having an office.
I reach my hand between us, needing him more than I need my next fucking breath. Unzipping his jeans, he slides them down and frees his cock.
Gosh, my man is handsome.
I line him up at my entrance, ready to ride this frustration off, when I hear a hard knock at the door.
“Fuck,” I sigh. I move to get off of Elliot, but he thrusts his hips up, entering me, and in that moment, I slam down, probably hurting him, but by his groan, maybe not.
I pause, needing a minute to adjust since we’re going so fucking fast.
“We finish what we start, Little Crane,” he grunts and takes hold of my hips with one hand, helping me ride him to our end. I rock into him, my knees burning against the fabric of the chair. The rush of having to be fast sends tendrils of adrenaline through my veins.
“Did you lock the door?” I mutter, as he takes his other hand and lightly plays with my lit as he rocks up into me.
I moan, trying to focus on hearing the answer to my question but I get lost in the sensations to my pussy.
My hands grip his chest to steady myself, but then he launches upward, his core flexing, holding himself up as his hands wrap around me.
He kisses and nips over my chest, a thin trail of his spit covering my skin and lighting me on fire.
He holds the thread of my sanity, and the few moments I lost him, I lost my thread. I need my handsome man as much as he thinks he needs me.
I won’t let him slip through my hands again.
“I did lock the door–Enyo has a master key. We’ll have to be fast, Little Crane,” he says. His fingers circle my clit a touch faster, and I thrust with wild abandon. My wetness at full steam, dripping between us.
“Juliet is here for lunch, Diora,” Enyo’s voice booms from the other side of the door as I hear keys jingle. I think the man is trying to buy us time, since I know there are only three damn keys on his keychain.
“Oh, handsome,” I mutter against his ear, no energy to go much faster. “I need more. Please.”
I grab his hand from my hip and pull it to my neck.His arm is bent between us as he lays back down, focusing on trusting more as his eyes stare at mine.
“Trust me?” I ask and he nods. His hips jerking more forcefully. “Squeeze.”
He does. Following my instructions perfectly.
“Good fucking boy.” He starts slow, increasing the pressure and as he does I get impossibly close.
The rush of pleasure courses down my body to my core.
The lack of air doing wonders. God damn.
My body tenses as I lose a bit of air. My core flexing, trying to find breath and it makes me so fucking hotter. So damn close.
“I got you. I always got you, Diora,” he comforts. His golden brown eyes peer into mine, love and warmth spreading into his face. He yanks my neck down and kisses me again, and I wanna swallow the damn man. He keeps the pressure, tightening but not enough to bruise. How sweet.
“I love you, handsome.” My words come out jumbled but I attempt to say the words anyways.
I fucking love those words, and I hope he loves hearing them.
The same thrill I felt in those fake woods at the ball thrum through my body and fuck, I’m there.
I come hard. My moan is so loud I'm sure Enyo and Juliet can hear and for the moment all I can focus on is my handsome man and how good he makes me feel.
“I love you, Little Crane.”
Him coming inside me is the best feeling in the fucking world. I have to rush, though, because my sister is about to come in, and as morally questionable as I can be, Juliet seeing me have sex is not on that list of expectations.
Shooting off Elliot’s lap, I pull my dress down my hips and back over my shoulders, and push stray hairs back over my shoulder. I speed walk around my desk, feeling Elliot’s and my cum slide down my thighs.
I try to control my breathing as Elliot puts himself back in his pants and right his chair as the door opens.
Enyo and Juliet will know what we did, since not only are we hot sweaty messes, but Elliot’s shirt is cut open, down the middle, with a faint line of blood in spots down his chest.
Still, I giggle, as he raises his eyebrows at me and the crew walks in the door.
“I would hope you’d save the fun times for when you don’t have something scheduled with your sister,” Enyo boasts, barely holding back his laughter as he and Juliet walk in. Juliet’s beautiful face is beet red as she grips the strap of her crossbody purse.
“I said I’d reschedule with you, but he was insistent on coming in,” she excuses, pointing a finger at Enyo as she sits in the chair next to Elliot, who silently watches this exchange.
“You’re throwing me under the bus, honey pie? I thought we were a team,” Enyo says, clutching his heart as he gives Juliet a pained look, which has her face creasing with worry.
“She’s on my team, and my team only,” I say, leaning back in my chair, raising a challenging eyebrow.
“Well, it sure didn’t feel that way when you left her waiting outside your door while you were fucking my brother.”
“We were fast,” I excuse, as Juliet chuckles. Enyo and I both smile at that, and I decide to let his annoying ass persistence of coming in, go.
“Lunch?” I ask, grabbing my purse and nodding at the brothers in invitation.
“Of course. We’re always hungry,” Enyo answers, leading the way back out of my office. Juliet follows him, and I wait for Elliot, who pulls a clean shirt from the stash he keeps in my office.
“Ready, handsome?” I ask, holding out my hand for him to take.
“Always, Little Crane.”