♫ I Can’t Stop - Flux Pavilion ♫
“I’m gonna come!” Lux screams, her back arching off the bed as my lips clamp down on her clit.
I pump my fingers in and out of her cunt only twice more before her thighs lock my head between their grasp, her hands roughly fisting my hair. The moans that erupt from deep in her throat completely undo me, unleashing the beast within.
On a growl, I tear myself away from her and plant my feet on the floor, breaths ragged, cock aching.
I need her so badly it hurts.
My hands clasp her ankles and yank her shivering form to the edge of the bed. She gazes up at me as the last of her climax rolls through her, and the look I see in her eyes says it all…
Fuck me.
Own me.
Possess me.
I’m over her before either of us can say another word, sliding into her effortlessly with an urgency I’ve not ever felt before.
“Fuuuck,” I hiss, losing all sense of sobriety as her heat envelopes me, sucking me in deeper.
I’m in so deep, I can feel the very end of her entrance straining to keep me from pushing in any further.
“So greedy,” I coo in her ear, hitching one of her legs around my waist.
Lux nods shamelessly. “So good, it’s so good,” she breathes, clawing at my back, her nails breaking skin as I increase the pace.
She’s not wrong. Good is only putting it lightly. This right here is sublime, the only damned sliver of Heaven I’ll ever get to experience.
And I don’t want it to stop…
“Right, Rome?” Vic’s voice suddenly cut through another explicit daze.
Another vividly real, cock-jolting daze I couldn’t seem to escape these days. The semi barely contained by my tuxedo pants was proof. Thankfully, neither one of the men standing before me—or anyone else for that matter—seemed to notice.
Vic placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Roman…you good?”
I nodded and tamped down the ridiculous amount of desire swimming through my veins. “Yeah, apologies, man. Just remembering a few things that need to get done before the weekend is over. What were you saying?”
He eyed me keenly but didn’t seem inclined to press me on the matter.
Yet.
I’m sure he’d be up my ass about it later.
“I was telling Ryzhkov here that Lux hasn’t been very easy to wear down.”
Of course he had to bring her up.
I glanced over at the older Russian man who was watching me like a hawk. According to Vic, he was Pahkan of the Ryzhkov Brotherhood from Chicago, which left me wondering what the hell he was doing here in Miami. Couldn’t be solely for this so-called charity gala, that’s for sure…
“She hasn’t been, no,” I agreed, snatching another champagne glass from one of the waiters passing through with a giant sterling silver tray. “But we’re getting there.”
“It’s about time,” Vic grumbled, taking a sip from his flute.
Ryzhkov chuckled darkly and shook his head. “You can’t rush such things, Victor. Not if you want them done right. Give the man some credit and have a little patience,” he advised, his Russian accent thick as molasses.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
The satisfied gesture seemed to deepen Vic’s scowl, and on the inside I was damn satisfied about that, too.
“I realize that, but we’re falling behind. She’s a stubborn broad with tactics of her own. Not to mention Roman’s last travesty set her off like a bomb,” Vic explained.
Ryzhkov seemed very intrigued, his blue eyed gaze bouncing between us both. “I see. Well, there’s always a way, and if she becomes too difficult, then simply eliminate her completely. Problem solved,” he countered, offering a shrug when Vic’s expression paled.
“I don’t want to kill her. I just want what’s mine.”
“Then you don’t want it bad enough. If she’s such threat, you’d be willing to do anything to rid yourself of her presence. And since that’s obviously not the case, I suggest you start taking rather than asking.”
“How?” Vic asked, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.
Ryzhkov laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Women are easy to subdue, Victor, far easier than you think. You just have to figure out how they like it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone here I must introduce myself to.”
And just like that, the man was gone without a glance back, leaving Vic and I alone amongst the masses.
“That’s not part of your plan, correct?” he questioned after a beat, staring out at the sea of elegantly dressed people.
I mulled it over for a moment.
If Ryzhkov’s suggestion took him aback so blatantly, I was curious to see what his reaction would be if I agreed.
“If it comes down to that, yes,” I lied, sipping my champagne.
He tensed beside me, but continued watching the crowd as if I hadn’t struck a nerve. “We’re not going that route, so go ahead and cross that off the list.”
Interesting.
“I thought you agreed to stop bitching and let me—”
“The answer is no, Rome,” he growled. “End of discussion.”
“So touchy,” I chuckled, mentally shaking my head at his stupidity. “My bad, mate.”
“I just don’t see it being necessary, that’s all.” His tone was clipped, like he was just realizing he’d given himself away, yet again. “Oh, I forgot to mention earlier. Your house is finally ready.”
I almost laughed and pointed out the abrupt subject change to further my point, but considering the news he’d just thrown my way, I decided to humor him. After all, I’d been at the Colony for weeks while the house was being remodeled, and it was bloody-fucking-torture at this point.
“Fucks sake, about time,” I replied.
“Just in time, actually. You heard about the hurricane right?”
What?
“No, what hurricane?”
“Hurricane Glenn. He’s a Cat 5, supposed to hit us as a Cat 4 on Wednesday.”
Again, what? I was genuinely confused.
“Okay, you lost me,” I admitted. “What does that have to do with my house?”
Vic plucked the drained glass from my hand and set it on a tray of empties as another waitress strolled by. “Hurricane party, brother, that’s what.”
“Still lost. What the hell is a hurricane party?”
“A party during a hurricane?” he said, though it sounded more like a question.
“Seriously? That’s a thing?”
“It’s almost a tradition, really.”
“And you just volunteered my new home for the occasion?” I snapped, turning my head toward him.
“Well,” he grinned, “I would hope you don’t mind. You’ve got the most space, after all. Just consider it a house warming party.”
He couldn’t be serious.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked as steady as possible, tipping my head graciously at an older couple scouting around us.
“Pussy, lots of it, and good company. You don’t want to ride out a storm this large alone. Truuust me,” he drawled.
Was that supposed to make it better?
I enjoyed my space, enjoyed it quite a bit, and I wasn’t afraid to pass some storm in my own company.
“C’mon, Rome,” he cajoled knowingly. “You got the guest house and all. You have my word we won’t overdo it on the body count. Don’t forget, the power will go out eventually. With a storm this big, that’s a given. It’ll get quiet and you’ll have your space.”
He had a point. Unfortunately.
Despite not ever having a experienced a hurricane, I knew power loss was a probability. Sometimes it lasted hours, other times days. Depended on how bad the storm was and how quickly the power company could stitch things up. Having people around would make the blackout period less excruciating, I suppose.
“I guess we’re having a party then,” I sighed, resigned.
There was no use arguing him, honestly. He’d gone and organized it without my knowledge. What’s done is done.
A pleased grin spread across his face at my concession. “There’s my boy,” he said excitedly, squeezing me to his side. “I asked the reno guys to go ahead and put your shutters up, so that’s done too. We just need to prep.”
See?
Presumptuous dick.
“What all do we need?” I was already regretting my decision to let this slide.
Vic smirked gestured for me to follow him. “Some weed, food, and of course, drinks.”
This shit wreaked terribly, and unfortunately for me, no amount of weed or alcohol could have prepared me for the storm headed my way.