Page 89 of Hell Breaks Loose

Right on cue, I suck him in, opening my throat to the fullest, clamping my lips around the base of his cock and shaking my head back and forth slightly.

Game. Set. Match.

“Fuck!” he shouts, gripping his thumb and forefinger tightly inside me, making me shower the inside of my underwear with a mild but oh, so satisfying climax.

All while nearly being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of his unburdening.

His head hits the headrest on the seat, and he moans softly, chills shivering through his core as I take every drop, savoring the taste of my lover. And savoring the torture of that oversensitivity in the aftermath.

The car slows, then stops.

And before he can try to pursue another round, I’m dropping back, bouncing out of the car, never once looking away from him as I drag my fingers around my lips and suck them clean.

“You’re—”

“I know,” I holler back in reply, cutting through the foliage. Gavin parked us out of view from the main road.

A short hike has us at the old, overgrown gate to the abandoned community development that my dad used as cover for his safe house and main base of operations. At least I think that’s what this place was meant to be.

The cabin in the woods seemed more lived in.

Like he spent more time in hiding there, outside the general vicinity of Sanctum proper.

Signs of the floods passing are noticeable immediately. Branches, mud, murky pools all along the drive.

Only when I reach the turn leading to the house’s driveway do I really see how bad it is.

Where the unfinished houses received a battering and a fair share of water, the glass front of the partially hidden building is shattered.

The place was built cleverly into the side of a mountain, sheltering it from any satellite or aerial view. The one thing it was not built for was millions of gallons of white-water rapids slamming down through the ravine that conceals it.

The whole bottom floor is still flooded. Waist deep, maybe more.

It’s the way the foundation was built, seating the main room below the level of the driveway that caused the water to have nowhere to go. And fuck me if I have any clue how to go about draining the place out.

“Damn. Gonna need a water pump and some fans.”

“Or dynamite,” I grumble, pouting at the disaster. “Blow the whole place up and forget about it.”

I really liked this place.

Wanted to be able to call it my own.

“It’s not unsalvageable.”

“It’s not something I want to think about right now, either.”

“Still.”

He’s thinking ahead, to a time when we will be able to settle down. Have a life together, the four… no, the three of us.

But I can’t imagine that, hope for that.

Not yet.

Not ever. Marco is still breathing. The Seven might still have agents working against us.

It’s a long shot, but a possibility.

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