Page 70 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

“Fuck!” A scream is ripped from me as white light fills my head. Luc’s hand closes around my neck, holding me in place as my body reacts against my will. My orgasm latches onto me, refusing to let go. I come apart against the wand and the base of Luc’s cock, gushing wetness over him and the bed as he thrusts up into me and groans through his own release. With one hand, Luc holds the damn toy harder against my clit, and with the other, he keeps me anchored to the mattress—his palm against my throat. Not hard enough to steal my breath, but enough for me to feel his power.

Gasping, panting, sweating. The world flips over and over again like I’m a skydiver risking it all to feel the wind against my skin sans parachute. My body bows against him, my muscles lock and there’s no releasing them until he’s done with me. Hard pulses of electricity race up and down my spine. The screams that leave my lips fall into raspy moans as I tremble hard.

Finally—blessedly—it ends and Luc yanks the wand away, turning the switch to stop that incessant vibrating noise as he tosses it onto the nightstand and gently eases out of my sore pussy.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” Luc groans. More wetness rushes out of me, but this time, I know it doesn’t belong to me. “You have no idea how hot it is to see you so full of me.”

Exhaustion clings to my nerves and I shiver as his finger scrapes down the outside of my pussy. He gathers up some of the stickiness there and lifts it between us. Heat descends down my spine and without even thinking, I part my lips and tilt my head up.

With a grin, he offers me the remains of his orgasm. His thick finger slides into my mouth and I close my lips around it, sucking it clean as my tongue moves against his salty skin. When he pulls free, he doesn’t hesitate. Luc dips his head and takes my lips in a harsh kiss, delving into my mouth like he wants a taste of himself.

Despite the heat of him, my flesh is pebbled when he pulls back. Luc touches a strand of my hair and strokes it back, tucking it behind my ear. “Morning, pretty girl.”

I grunt and roll my eyes. “Fuck you.” Oh, damn, my voice is fucking shot.

His eyes light up with amusement. “I was pretty sure I just had,” he retorts. I slap his chest as he falls to the side, his body shaking with laughter. One arm curls around my middle as he tosses a leg over both of mine, pinning me to the bed underneath him.

“How am I supposed to explain my voice to Ava?” I grit out, wincing at the sharp pain in my throat.

“Some hot tea and honey, babe,” he replies easily. “It’ll soothe the screaming beast.”

I lift my hand and shoot him the bird, waving in his face before letting my arm drop again. “I was trying to tell you something before you so rudely interrupted me,” I say.

He snuggles closer, all heat and naked flesh. “I’m listening.”

I sigh. “Your father’s resurfaced.”

All of the languid ease of his limbs shifts in an instant. The soft movement of his body over mine becomes hard and he arches up onto an elbow, looking down on me as the amusement and happiness fade from his expression. I press my lips together in regret. He needs to know—I promised that I wouldn’t keep my plans from him anymore. Still, I hate that this is the response. I hate driving both of us out of our sex-sated happy places and back into the cold harshness of reality.

“Where? When?”

I shake my head. “I have some guys tracking him,” I say. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

He nods. “What’s the plan, then?” he asks. “Are we luring him here?”

“We don’t have to,” I say. “He’ll come whether we try to lure him or not.” One of the only things I came out of all of this with is understanding of the devil behind it all. I probably know Thomas Kincaid better than myself.

“We need to prepare,” he says.

“I will,” I tell him. “What I need you to do is make sure you can get her free before it all ends.”

Luc’s expression darkens. His brows lower over his eyes, and shadows shroud the crystalline blue depths. “She’ll be fine, Micki,” he tells me. “I have a meeting with Dean’s friend and his hacker. I have no doubt they’ve got the info we need.”

“When?”

“Soon,” he hedges. “I’m meeting Dean tonight to figure out when and where I’m meeting the hacker.”

“During the party?” I guess.

Luc nods and pushes away from me and the bed as he sits up, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “It’s all coming to a head, now, isn’t it?” he asks.

I bite my lower lip and sit up next to him. “Yeah, it is.”

As much as I hate Thomas Kincaid, if I could spare Luc the pain he no doubt feels—the guilt and the shame of participating in his own father’s downfall—I would. I’m not so naive as to believe he regrets it because I know him too well. He doesn’t regret doing this. Helping me. What he’s ashamed of is the fact that his father is who he is.

We can change our friends. We can change our lovers. But we can never change our blood. Who we are. Where we come from. That will always be a part of us—regardless of our choices, of our bonds outside. I lean against his back, pressing a soft kiss to the skin over his shoulder blade.

“You’re not him,” I remind him quietly. “You’ve never been him and you never will be.”

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