Page 27 of Falcon's Prey

Ren

There was a hunger in me that kept growing; unlike Ember, I was the one looking to fill a void until my next hit. My addiction didn’t get fed easily, and I’d learned to curb my appetite. As I drove back to the penthouse, I tried not to think about everything that had gone down tonight.

Number one, Marcus had it bad for Ember. The fucker was in love with her, and she knew it. She used his affection toward her and manipulated it to her advantage.

Number two, I didn’t like Silas. There was something about him that made me get twitchy fingers, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Number three, this was no accident, so whoever attacked Ember’s father and uncle wanted to send a warning or kill them.

Number four—probably the one I didn’t want to admit—was the fact that the spoiled little bitch was growing on me. I should have known she would. The first time I saw her, she intrigued me, but meeting her in person? Well, that had worked against her. Yet underneath all her ugly was a soft spot I could see but not touch—and that fucked with me.

Deciding that Ember didn’t get to hide from me, I pulled down the partition.

“Ember,” I called her name in a warning.

She turned to look at me, her eyes high and full of mischief. I didn’t smell anything, so she’d either popped a pill or inhaled it.

“Ren.” She brought up a flute of champagne to her mouth.

“What the fuck did you take?”

“I just wanted to feel happy again.” She gave me a soft smile that was all wrong.

I hated that look on her. The grip I had on the steering wheel got tighter.

“Why don’t you like me?” Ember looked at me through the mirror, our eyes meeting, and I could see the hurt in them.

“You’re a fucking mess right now,” I told her.

She laughed and tipped back more champagne. I hated her like this, the way she numbed herself. She thought she was strong, but the weakness in her reeked, especially with the bullshit she put in her system.

“Why don’t you want me?” Her voice was gravelly, and I felt her glare through the glass. “Everyone wants me.” Her voice dropped to a throaty moan.

I heard movement in the back, but I was focused on changing lanes, so I didn’t look right away.

Fuck me.

Fuckme.

Fuck.

I looked at the road and then back at Ember again. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy, her lip between her teeth, and I could see her chest rising and falling as her hand moved too far for me to see from this angle.

With my hand on the wheel and one on the mirror, I moved it until it gave me the perfect view of Ember fucking her fingers. My eyes alternated from the road to watch her fingers dip into the entrance of her pussy, gathering moisture before bringing them to her clit. Her glistening pink folds taunted me. I wanted to be the one to touch her. Earlier, I’d lied—it’d taken everything in me to stop myself—but now…

Fuck, we were going to crash if she kept doing that.

“Ember,” I groaned, as I watched two fingers dip inside.

“Ren,” she moaned.

Fuck me, it stirred my dick to life. I knew I could get pussy when I wanted, but sometimes I only fucked if it was convenient. Just a release that was lacking, and it never took the edge off. Only one thing did. I was thankful to pull into the parking lot of the penthouse just in time for the show to come to an end. I didn’t turn to look back once I was parked. Instead, I adjusted the mirror and fixed my hard dick in my pants.

“You’re picturing me, aren’t you?” My voice came out thick with desire.

Ember didn’t reply, but she didn’t have to, not when she started to work her fingers faster, and I could see her pussy get wetter.

“Fuck three fingers,” I growled.

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