by J. Kearston
Well that fuckin’ explains why he didn’t turn her in. He’d not only have to find someone new to torture, but lose the extra payout.
I try to temper my reaction, grinding my teeth and noting how nervous she is already. Dorian was the same way when I met him, waiting for the strike to come when he thought we were upset. It took years before he trusted us on a deeper level and quit flinching, and even then he still can’t handle people catching him off guard. So I stuff down all of the rage and innate need to beat the shit out of that guard for her sake.
Snatching up my rag, I go back to drying with jerky motions I can’t fully suppress despite my attempts. “That’s done now, alright? Squirrel it away for something else. Luce can help you invest if you want.”
She worries her bottom lip. “You know you can’t just go kicking a guard’s ass and expect there to be no fallout, right? What you guys do over there, I have to deal with. So if he says anything, then I get to accept your punishment.”
I set the glass down too harshly and it gets a hairline crack down the side. My fingers curl around the base, digging in and turning white as I try to rein in my temper so that I don’t scare her.
“And what would the punishment be for beating the shit out of a guard?”
She pulls the drain plug and moves to wipe down the stove. “Depends on the queen’s mood, like always. We aren’t human, Atlas, and things don’t work the same way. There is no justice, no clear set of rules. Everything’s driven by selfish, cruel people and the most cunning rise to the top. If the queen is feeling benevolent or distracted, you could walk away without even a slap on the wrist because she doesn’t feel like dealing with petty problems that day. Or, the man that stole a loaf of bread could lose his head because she has an itch she can’t scratch.”
Gently, I grab her elbow so that she faces me and can’t keep hiding. “I’m not mad at you, Cambria, I’m pissed at the situation. It’s not fair and you’re telling me there isn’t anything I can do about it?”
Her lips curl in a wry, humorless smile. “Who ever said life was fair, Atlas?”
Tugging her against me, I kiss her, hard. I have too much pent up energy with no outlet, want to lash out and can’t. I want to pummel the jackass making her life more difficult than it has to be, and she’s telling me we have to sit around and accept being victims for fear of making waves?
Well fuck that.
Her palms slide up my chest as I wrap a hand under her thigh, and she jumps up willingly. Wrapping her legs around my waist, one of my hands palms her lace covered ass and the other threads into her hair to keep her from pulling away. I only make it as far as the hallway before she rolls her hips and I groan, pinning her against the wall.
I tear my mouth away from her lips just to run a line down her jaw and neck, sucking on the flesh above her pulse. She arches into me as I brace a hand beside her head, flexing my hips to keep her in place. Her fingers trail down my chest until slipping beneath her skirt, toying with herself. I nip at her earlobe, grabbing her free hand and pin it to the wall with mine while running my other palm over her ass.
She huffs in frustration as she squirms, nipping at my lip and my cock jerks. “Going to make me do all the work?” she teases.
My chest rumbles as I set her on her feet, twining our fingers together against the wall to keep her in place while my other slides beneath her skirt. I cover the fingers circling her clit with my palm as I plunge two fingers inside of her without warning.
“Don’t stop,” I command, but she needs little prompting.
She works herself into a frenzy while I pump into her until she’s clenching around my fingers. She chases her release, hovering on the precipice for so long that she whimpers. I bite down on her shoulder, stifling a groan as she cries out, coating my hand in her pleasure. She continues to rock her hips, milking out every last aftershock.
Cambria slides her hand over the front of my jeans, eliciting a hiss. I’m hard as steel and even that small pressure is torture. Flicking open the button with ease, I release my death grip on the hand pinned against the wall. I finish unzipping my pants and cast them aside along with my shirt, groaning when her hands curl around my cock and stroke once from base to tip.
“Condoms?”
Her hand stills. “I think I left them in the car.” I curse, about to tug my jeans back on and jog outside when she drops to her knees. “Or we could work around that.”
She flicks her tongue across the tip, licking off the bead of moisture. I groan, bracing a hand against the wall to keep myself upright. She runs her tongue slowly along the underside, torturing me with every flick of her tongue. Each second she lets pass without moving faster, agony. My fingers curl against the wall, scratching grooves in with my nails to keep from tangling them in her hair and fucking her mouth.
She pumps me once, using her spit as lube to run tip to base before taking me into her mouth and I nearly blow my load, I’m wound so tight. She takes me in as far as she can, working the rest with a tight fist.
I lose track of everything beyond how good she feels, and strain to stay in place so I don’t choke her. Her nails dig into my ass as she relentlessly works my length and I tangle my hand in her hair when the first wave of pleasure slams down over me. Flexing my hips, I thrust into her mouth as gently as I can manage while coming, but she just takes me deeper as I struggle to remain standing. As her tongue swirls around my cock, swallowing down every last drop and still milking me for more, I groan, head tilted to the ceiling and riding out the trembling aftershocks.
“I should come home for lunch more often,” Dorian chuckles suddenly and my eyes fly open.
Cambria doesn’t startle and I wonder if she’s known he was there the whole time. Still, she swallows me down, appearing for all intents and purposes that it doesn’t bother her in the slightest. I shudder as she releases me with a wet popping sound and gives me a wicked smirk, winking as she rises to her feet.
“What can I say? I take my job very seriously,” she declares, smoothing down her short skirt as Dorian eyes roam over her heatedly.
Yanking my clothes back on, I war with the strange realization that I’m the only one feeling weird I was caught with my dick out. The other two sure don’t give two shits, and though I know this is what I signed up for, it’s still an adjustment.
“You know that orgasms aren’t part of the job, right?” he clarifies, especially with the way he was spiraling last night after putting her in bed.
I internally curse, pissed at myself for not considering how she might look at this like being backed into a corner, her options limited. Honestly, any number of things could have happened to her and I’m only just beginning to understand what makes her tick. This is exactly the reason I was trying to bring up the money thing, so we could all be on a level playing field with each other. Then I had to go thinking with my dick and potentially fucked everything up.
I would rather chew glass than tell Lucien that he was right.
She looks at him quizzically. “Well I would hope not, or I’ll be demanding a big fucking raise,” she scoffs indignantly. When he continues to press her, she rolls her eyes. “Atlas didn’t force me into anything, Dorian. I like sex and it’s been a heck of a while since someone else got my rocks off. Things have been just a wee bit stressful since meeting you three, so really, you only have yourselves to blame.”
“We’re to blame for you wanting to suck my dick?” I snort.
She nods sagely. “And you should feel terrible, taunting a poor fae with no follow through.” There’s pounding at the front door and her eyes light up, straightening her outfit while also pulling the top down to show more cleavage. “Please, sirs, do allow me.”
She saunters away, completely throwing herself into the role. I may not know everything about her yet, but I’m starting to see that she embraces any chance she can find to escape, even if it’s just for a little while. Whether that’s by dancing until she’s so exhausted she can’t stand, or donni
ng a persona and stepping into a fictional person’s life for a few minutes.
Anything that takes her away from herself, if only for a moment.
Dorian and I follow her towards the living room, arriving just in time to see her usher Lucien’s secretary to a seat on the couch. Belinda is eyeing Cambria with barely veiled concern, taking the water bottle she passes her politely.
“Mr. Avrell left without the file he needed, so I thought I’d drop it off. Is he here?” she asks nervously, pulling a large manila envelope out of her bag.
“Master Lucien won’t be back until later, I’m afraid,” Cambria answers politely.
Dorian is trying to hide his laughter, and I’m not doing much better. Luce is going to get his ass handed to him the next time he crosses paths with Belinda.
“Sweetheart, sit down for a moment. I think we need to have a discussion,” she prompts, all motherly concern and upset.
Cambria shakes her head adamantly. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly! No rest until the house is sparkling, just the way Master Lucien likes it.”
She keeps her eyes downcast submissively, and Belinda’s neck and face become a blotchy, red mess. She turns to glare at the two of us, and my snickers die off in my throat.
“And you two! You have a hand in this as well?” she demands, glaring.
“Not at all, ma’am,” I counter, hands up innocently.
Dorian jumps in. “We were actually concerned ourselves, so we’ve been staying here to keep an eye on things and make sure our friend hasn't finally snapped and done something lecherous.”
Belinda turns to Cambria for confirmation. “The master’s friends have been very kind,” she affirms. “All of them are perfect gentlemen. I’m just so grateful to Master Lucien for allowing me to stay, that I don’t mind his unusual rules.”
“Gentlemen? This lot?” she scoffs before hissing, “What rules?” while rolling the water bottle in her hand.
Cambria bites her lip innocently. “He offered to take care of me and even include a little spending money, but the agreement hinges on me staying in proper uniform while I work.”
“And what, exactly, is ‘work’?” Belinda spits through clenched teeth.
Cambria bats her eyelashes innocently. “Whatever the master needs. I keep the house clean and tend to any other matters he requests.”
The secretary rises to her feet, incensed. She smacks the envelope into my chest harshly, glaring at the two of us. “I always warned Mr. Avrell from keeping company with you two. You heathens have gone too far,” blaming us because obviously it couldn’t be Lucien’s fault. She storms over to Cambria. “Do you have a cell phone, love? I’ll add my number and you can call if you need me.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need a phone; the master or one of his friends are with me at all times.”
The normally matronly secretary lets loose a string of profanities that would make a sailor blush, scribbling her number on a piece of paper and tucking it into Cambria’s hand, curling her fingers around it. “You’re of age, so I doubt the police would do anything,” she growls, “but this isn’t healthy, sweetheart. You’re welcome to stay with me while you figure things out, and you can bet your ass I’m talking to Mr. Avrell the next time I see him.”
She storms out of the house and Cambria holds up Belinda’s number like it’s a prize. “See that Atlas? You’re not the only one to have women slipping you their numbers,” she teases, like it’s some contest she won.
“You’re evil, little fae,” Dorian snorts, losing his composure and laughing, heading over to the kitchen to grab something before he has to head back to work.
Cambria sticks the number on the fridge with a magnet, like it’s a work of art for everyone to admire. She hops up onto the counter and swings her legs, looking at Dorian with a wide, genuine smile.
“Did I do good, sir? Do you think Master Lucien will give me a raise?”
He snorts, setting his knife down to stand between her legs and put his hands on the counter at either side of her thighs. “He’ll give you something, but it’s more likely a hard smack on the ass than a reward.”
She twirls a lock of her multicolored hair around her finger coyly. “Certainly sounds like a reward.”
Dorian leans in and kisses her gently, all patience and adoration. “You’re incorrigible.”
I make myself useful and finish throwing something together for him to take back to work since we made him late. “You mean insatiable,” I correct. “But one thing’s for sure, Luce is going to be pissed when he comes home tonight.”
“Wait a second,” Cambria says, suddenly serious and all air of flirtatious teasing gone from her demeanor. “Belinda came here looking for Luce. Why wouldn’t she have just waited for him to come back from his lunch break?”
I share a look with Dorian, her nerves bleeding into our own. I pull out my phone to call him, but it just rings until going to voicemail. Dorian grabs Cambria around the waist to pluck her off the counter and set her back on her feet.
“Come on, I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he frowns, pulling her towards the front door and snatching his keys back off the counter as we pass.
We load into Dorian’s modest sedan, heading towards Lucien’s office while I try calling twice more to no avail. Belinda isn’t there, so I assume she was taking a half day and dropping things off for Luce on her way home. There are still plenty of others in the building, and we are getting more than a few looks because in our haste, we didn’t think to tell Cambria to change first.
The men, and a few of the women, eye her with open lust, but she sees none of it. She doesn’t stop to flirt with them, feeding off of their adoration that would make her stronger according to Dorian. Instead, her face stays pinched with concern and her eyes are laser focused on the path to Lucien’s office.
His car wasn’t in the parking lot, but we’re hoping something in here will give us a clue as to where he would have gone. Instead, his office is as immaculate as always, no sign of a struggle or a single thing amiss.
“I’ll go start asking around,” I offer, making my way out of the office to start interrogating some of his coworkers when Dorian stops me.
“Dude, don’t be dumb.” He fires up Lucien’s computer and starts typing away, frowning as he looks at the screen.
“What are you doing?” Cambria asks, leaning over his shoulder.
“Find my phone app,” he informs us mechanically, focusing on what he’s doing. “But I don’t know what he’d be doing way out there.”
I come to look on his other side, sighing. “I do. Come on, we better start driving if we want to get there before dark.”
Chapter 13
Lucien
I stand in the empty lot, not feeling any better than I did before I came here like I‘d hoped. It’s flanked by warehouses in a seedy part of town, a couple of cities over from where we live, and nothing ever grows here, not even weeds. Just a large square of perpetual nothingness.
Financially, this is without a doubt my stupidest investment, but I can’t bring myself to sell it. I don’t want a single thing to be built here, tainted by the past and becoming a new source of misery for me, as much as I logically know that isn’t how things work. But this is the one thing that truly makes me feel, and all it offers me is rage.
Before her, at least.
I’d come here when I needed to feel something, anything beyond the cold detachment I constantly live with. But now, I have her; the infuriating fae that makes my blood heat, keeps me distracted. She grates at my nerves as much as makes me smile, and I can’t remember how long it’s been since I felt a semblance of that humanity. Now that I have her, I don’t need this place.
I can finally let it go and move on, but it means putting all of my chips on her.
If we’re doing this, taking this gamble, then it’s all or nothing. I don’t do half assed. But there are so many unknowns, such risks, that it’s nerve wracking. I can’t tell you how long it�
��s been since I felt nervous about a single thing, felt that spike of adrenaline as a hint of fear reared its ugly head.
It’s intoxicating in a dangerous way.
Car doors slam and I hear them before I see them, looking onto the space one last time before letting go of it forever. When I leave here, I’ll list it for sale and take the first offer presented to me. I’ll wash my hands of it and the memories that have refused to fade no matter how many years have passed.
“You’re not fae-napped!” Cambria shouts in relief, slamming into my side as she hugs me and I look down at her quizzically before my eyes rake over her scantily clad form.
“If you thought I was in danger, why’d you decide to come rescue me in that?” The corner of my mouth twitches in amusement.
When she peels herself away from me, I slip my suit jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders, narrowing my eyes at the others for their poor judgment. What if I was in some sort of danger? Were they planning on offering her up like a sex doll to the kidnappers in exchange? How many people saw her like this as they traipsed around the city looking for me?
“Working hours, boss,” she salutes sarcastically. “A good employee stays in uniform while on the job.”
I button up the jacket more for my benefit than hers, because she looks far too tempting like this. It does nothing for the long expanse of leg she’s showing, and I have no doubt if she leaned forward I’d be able to see her underwear, but seeing her wearing my clothes satisfies a primal part of me I’m unused to.
“Let’s keep things like this to inside the house only, alright? Not all humans are civil as you well know and there’s no point courting danger.”
“Speaking of,” Dorian warns, “I’d avoid Belinda for as long as possible.” I give him a look, but he just gestures to Cambria like that should explain everything.
It pretty much does, I’d just like the details.
Her eyes sparkle with mirth. “I might have gotten a little excited and carried away with this one,” she admits. “But in my defense, I only wanted to please you, Master Lucien.”
