Page 47 of Destroyed

I grab his towel from his waist and yank hard, watching it catch on his jutting dick before it drops to the floor.

“May I?” I ask then, inching myself off the counter and twisting in his arms.

He grunts in response as I bend over the counter and look to see him staring back at me in the reflection. He’s behind me, rubbing his dick back and forth near my entrance, transfixed both on the sight of that and my eyes being locked on him.

“I’ll move in with you,” I say, reaching between my legs and grabbing his hard length, “but only if you promise never to stop fucking me.” Then I wiggle my ass and swipe the head of his penis around my wet entrance.

His eyes are dark and full of lust, and he can’t decide where to look. He watches me spin around and around, and then I see him lose control.

“Never,” he growls, then plunges inside me. He’s so forceful I’m slammed into the counter, and I reach up to the mirror to keep from crashing head-first into it. It’s hard, fast, and intense, and we’re both on the edge in a few thrusts.

“Touch yourself,” he says, and I do, reaching down to vigorously thrum my clit while he pounds from behind. I feel his dick throbbing, and somehow knowing he is close makes me even hotter.

“I’m gonna come,” I whimper, speeding up my hand’s pace and pushing back into him. He slams into me once, twice, and then we’re both speeding over the edge, shouting in the bathroom so it echoes all around us.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says, pulling himself out but still leaning on top of me from behind.

“I love you,” I say. And it’s true. I fucking love him.

He grabs his towel and wipes us up, then pulls on his sweatpants and helps me shimmy back into my leggings.

“Couch?” he asks.

“You know it,” I smile. “I’ll get snacks.” I meander into the kitchen, grabbing our usual crackers, nuts, and cheese. I pause, eyeing the white wine in the fridge and feeling guilty. Should I not drink in front of him?

“Pour yourself the wine,” he says, watching me from the kitchen entrance. “Soda water for me.”

I smile because, of course, he knows what I’m thinking. We settle into the couch and spend a few minutes talking about the guys coming later.

“So,” he says then, “I want to tell you before they show up…” He’s a little nervous now, so I start to worry.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“The guy who took me last night told me something. He said that Sasha...” he pauses.

“Sasha?” I ask. “What about her?”

“She’s my sister. Eric Lockhart was her father, too.”

“Okay,” I say. “How does that make you feel?” Then something pings in my head. “Wait, she worked for you, right? Nothing happened between you two, I hope?”

“Oh god, no,” he says, looking relieved. “But I’ve not always thought of her in the highest regard, so I feel like shit about that.”

“You didn’t know Xavier,” I say, trying to reassure him. “How could you have known?”

“Yeah I know,” he says. “But now that I know we’re related, and how fucking psycho that guy last night was…” he turns away then, pensive. “We have to help her, Corrine.”

I nod, not sure what that will look like. “We will, don’t worry.” Then I kiss him, not a passionate kiss, but a loving one, and settle next to him to watch Friends before the crew arrives.

Chapter 36

Xavier

I’m sitting on my couch with Corrine curled beside me. Sebastian sits with Riley while Jonathan is seated in my armchair. Jamison messes with his phone feed before setting it on my coffee table, facing all of us. I see Andre’s face come up on the screen. He looks to be sitting in his home office, a signature glass of whiskey on the table next to him. He nonchalantly pushes it off the screen, making me chuckle.

“You don’t have to hide the alcohol, Andre. I’m fine, I swear.” I smile at the screen.

He smirks at me. “Good to see you alive and well, brother. How are you feeling?”

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