Chapter 32
GABE
Part of me expects Paris to be gone. A smoking, stinking, ugly crater. Instead, as my caravan of armored cars rolls back into the city, my wife leaning quietly against my shoulder, it looks like life’s still grinding along.
I don’t know how, when it feels like my world’s going to end soon.
There are plans, plans within plans, ideas and beliefs and guesses, but none of them matter. There’s an old saying: even the best plans go out the window when you get punched in the face.
I expect to get punched a lot in the next few hours.
But I’m in the best position I can be, given the circumstances. Nika’s by my side, Mass is at my back, and I haven’t given up yet.
Far from it.
My only regret is Daniel. I wish he could be here with us now, but he’s still recovering. He wanted to come—practically tried to threaten me to let him—but I wasn’t about to risk it.
Besides, I don’t need guns right now.
“Ah, another high-end hotel,” Nika says as we dump our bags in the suite. We’re staying at a beautiful place right in the heart of the city. No reason to hide anymore.
“Don’t act like you hate it.”
“Please, I got used to our little farmhouse.” She grins at me as she flops down on the bed.
I sit beside her, kick off my shoes, and press myself to her side. I kiss her neck, slowly exploring her, nipping at her chin and throat.
“Tell you what, when I’m a Dragon, I’ll buy you as many farmhouses as you want.”
“Can we keep the one we already have?”
“That’s possible. But I’ll have to renovate it. My wife is used to a certain standard of living.”
“Please, you’re the fancy one here.” She curls her fingers through my hair. “I’m happy like this.”
“Are you?” I drag her on top of me. She laughs, straddling my hips, grinding her core down. “Now that’s better.”
“Don’t you have a meeting to prep for?”
“That’s what I’m doing.” I kiss her lightly, tugging her in, but a part of me is too aware that this might be my last chance. There might not be an after this. I can’t tell myself there will be more, there will be another time, another opportunity, because I can’t promise any of it.
I kiss her harder. I slip my tongue into her mouth.
I devour her, because I have to. I can’t hold back anymore.
I tug her shirt off and toss it aside. I pull off my own shirt and throw it on the floor.
I press her tight to me, her stiff nipples against my cool skin, and I run my fingernail down her back. She shivers, letting out a soft moan.
Fuck, I go slow. I have to go slow. We have two hours at most, and I want to spend every single second right here with her. I lick her lips, suck her neck, bite her nipples lightly. I squeeze her breasts, palming them, marveling at how soft she is, how she fits in my hands.
“Can I ask you something?” she whispers as I stroke her hair and cup her ass tight.
“Only if it’s about how deep you want me to fuck you.”
“Tonight—if something happens—“
“Nika.”
“No, listen.” Her skin’s flushing as she looks at me plaintively. “If something happens, I want you to promise me that you’ll get out. One of us has to walk away.”
Sadness hits me. I shake my head. “Baby, come on. If anyone’s going to survive this, it’s going to be you. No, don’t argue. I want you to stay home tonight.”
Her eyes widen. “No way.”
“Baby—“
“Absolutely no way. This is what we’ve been working toward. No matter what happens, I want to be there by your side.”
“Nika—“
“No, no, I’m not staying behind, not again. You married me for my money, I know that, but this is more now. We have something and you know it. I just, I can’t, if it goes wrong—“ She takes a shuddering breath and pulls my hair. “I have to be there. I have to know.”
I kiss her hard, aching with how badly this fucking hurts. I know it’s stupid to bring her along, but god, I don’t want to go alone. I kiss her and hold her, and only pull away long enough to gasp a breath.
“I love you, Nika, it’s fucking breaking me and I love you.”
She laughs, tears filling her eyes. “I love you too. Holy shit, that feels so good to say. I’ve been fighting with myself—“
I bury her mouth again. Fuck it, fuck it all.
I turn and pin her on the bed, kissing every inch of her, taking in the way her breasts pool, her hair spilled around her, the way she looks at me with pure lust in her eyes, a smile on her face, tears on her cheek, and I kiss those away too as I strip her down.
My fingers slide through her slit, teasing her, making her back arch, because I’d rather hear her moan than cry.
I push my fingers inside and I suck her clit, growling at how much I love her taste—
There’s something about knowing you might die soon that makes everything so much more intense.
Every sensation, every motion, every inch of skin lit by strange angles of light slanting through half-closed blinds.
Her lips kiss-puckered and pinked, her heart fluttering, all the little noises she makes.
Everything about her. I fuck her with my fingers until I can’t control myself anymore, on the verge of coming right there on the sheets like a fucking beast.
I sink between her legs, filling up my wife with my big dick, spearing her deep and holding myself there as her breaths turn to whimpering, gasping moans.
“If you won’t stay behind then I’ll have to fuck you until you can’t walk,” I whisper, grinding in deep with rough, slow, vicious thrusts.
“God, please try. Bet you can’t.”
We fuck like there’s no light in the sky, like the moon’s coming down and the moon’s real pissed, like fucking’s the only choice in the face of probably being dead.
She rides me as I spank her ass, shove my fingers in her mouth, wrap my hand around her throat.
I fill her deep, moaning as I ride the edge of bliss, building her to breaking and holding her right there as her legs twitch and stretch, only to start over again.
She’s a beautiful mess, skin sheened and shiny, body trembling with strain.
Closer then, closer, I fuck her from behind, fuck her slapping and spanking, and pulling her hair, I stroke her clit and make her suck her juices from my dick, until she’s begging me to end the suffering, begging me to end her, to break her, and what other choice do I have, time doesn’t stop, there’s always a clock somewhere.
I break between her legs. She shatters in my arms. I moan her name and she moans mine as we tangle, spent, gasping, dizzy with how good it felt and bleak with the comedown, knowing there’s not much time left.
I tug her close in my arms. I tell her I love her again like I should’ve a hundred times before now.
“Let me ask you something,” she whispers in the dimness. The sun’s starting to set.
“You can ask, you know.”
“I like to prepare you.” She clings to me tightly. “Have you ever thought about kids?”
I laugh, unable to help myself. She slaps my arm playfully.
“With you? Absolutely. But not before.”
“You want a family with me?”
“I want to fill you with so many kids you can’t imagine getting away from me.”
She groans, shaking her head. “That’s fucked up.”
“Good. I want to trap you, baby.”
“We’re a little bit past that.”
“I don’t care.”
“Alright.” She looks up, peeking from behind her hair. “Tell you what. Here’s a little incentive. If we come home tonight, you can fuck me until I’m pregnant.”
I breathe the smell of her sweat and sigh. “Baby, I was always going to do that.”
“Sicko.”
“You like it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I feel her smiling against my chest. “Unfortunately, I do.”
There’s only ever so much time. That’s how it works, and eventually, our time runs out.
We get out of bed together and pull on clothes.
She’s in red. Glorious, bloody red, the kind of dress that tells the world to fuck off but also begs it to keep staring. It shows her back, some of her chest, and I’m sure I’m going to have to do some very bad violence tonight purely to keep my rivals from looking at my wife with impure thoughts.
I put on a black suit, like always.
“Ready?” she asks, slipping her hand through my arm.