Page 17 of Gambit
“Food’s ready,” I murmur some minutes later to shouts of approval from everyone. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Grinning, I set the dishes down, and steam rises off the stew. The scent of good food fills the room like a warm hug. I step back as they all dive in, spoons clinking against the porcelain.
Eliza smiles and winks at me. “Top notch, chef.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, my cheeks heating up. It’s not just the stove that’s got me sweating now.
We settle into an inane conversation that avoids anything to do with the university or the mafia, we’re just five people chilling out after a long-ass day.
As the meal winds down, Eliza asks, “Movie night?”
“Only if it’s something with explosions,” Raphael states, standing up and gathering up the empty dishes to rinse off and place meticulously in the dishwasher.
“Or car chases,” Tarquin adds, already heading toward the couch.
“Fine, fine,” Eliza concedes, tossing her napkin onto the table. “But next time, we pick something with a plot.”
“Hey, explosions are a plot,” James defends as she giggles.
We migrate to the living room, and I flick through the streaming service until we land on something suitably action-packed. Eliza plops down on the couch, and immediately, James and Raphael flank her, their bodies moulding to fit around hers. Tarquin sprawls out on the floor, his head resting against Eliza’s knee.
I hesitate for just a second before joining them, squeezing in beside Eliza as Raphael moves over to let me, to my surprise. But then it hits me. He and Tarquin have shown her already thatthey love her and need her, now it’s mine and James’s turn. She turns her body to lean against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, kissing the top of her head as she stretches her legs out over James’s lap.
“Comfy?” she asks, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Perfect,” I reply, because it’s true. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
The movie rolls on, but I’m only half-watching. The rest of me is tuned into the soft sounds of her breathing and the way her thumb brushes absentmindedly against my hand. These little things, these quiet moments, bind us together tighter than any vow or blood oath ever could.
In the flickering light of the TV, with the shadows dancing across their faces, I realise that this is what home feels like.
The credits roll, and I snatch the remote to kill the screen’s glare. My hand inches up her thigh, under the towel, reaching for something real in this life of ours that’s so often smoke and mirrors.
She doesn’t pull away; instead, she turns into me and crawls onto my lap, leaning forward to kiss me deeply, letting me know she is okay with this and that she wants it. I’m lost. Lost in the way she takes charge of the kiss, fierce and demanding, like she takes charge of everything else in her life. It’s a wildfire, and I’m more than happy to burn.
Our bodies press together, a tangle of limbs and longing. My hands roam over her skin, pulling the towel apart so she is naked and writhing right over my cock. She’s power personified, and I’m drawn to it, drawn to her, like nothing else matters. The darkness we come from, the blood on our hands—it all fades away when she’s this close.
“Eliza,” I breathe against her mouth. She’s the queen of this twisted kingdom we’ve built, and I’m all too willing to serve.
“Fuck,” I groan as she grinds down on me, my cock hard against her pussy. She’s wet and ready, and I need to be inside her. She rips at my tee, yanking it over my head quickly before she expertly undoes my pants and drags my cock out. She is eager, and that just makes this even sweeter. My hand slides between us, finding her clit. She gasps, her head thrown back, exposing the elegant line of her throat.
“More,” Eliza commands, her voice thick with desire.
James takes that as his invitation, moving in, his lips on her neck. Tarquin’s hands sweep over her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she moans. Raphael’s fingers tangle in her hair, guiding her mouth to his in a searing kiss. She rises, and I guide my cock into her soaking wet heat, my hips pushing up to meet her as she descends. She’s tight, hot, and utterly intoxicating. The room fills with the sound of our heavy breathing, of Eliza’s soft moans that turn into sharp cries as we find a rhythm.
“Fuck, Eliza,” I pant, watching the others worship her body with hands and mouths. It’s a sight I could never tire of—us giving everything and her taking it all like the absolute goddess she is.
“Harder,” she orders, and I obey without a second thought.
My thrusts turn more desperate, more primal. We’re all drawn into this vortex where pleasure is king and Eliza reigns supreme. I can feel her clenching around me, and I know she’s close.
James is watching us intently, his hand working over his length.
Tarquin pulls at her nipples, and she arches into him, Raphael’s mouth still devouring hers in a kiss that looks like it could consume them both. It’s carnal and perfect.
“Just like that. Fuck,” Eliza gasps out between kisses, her body shaking with the beginning tremors of her climax.
The sight of her coming undone is all it takes for me to follow. My body tenses as waves of pleasure crash over me, my orgasm ripping through me as I spill myself inside her pussy, and then she’s gone, torn away from my cock by James, who is desperate for his cock inside her.
