Page 84 of Imperial: The Corvidae Family
Emir gripped my thigh and lifted my leg, hooking it over his shoulder, then eased into me. The stretch felt so damn good but the minute he bottomed out, my body relaxed. My head tipped back as he pulled away and sank into me even deeper.
His grip tightened on my hip and his jaw clenched while Emir drove into me again with more force. “You feel so fucking perfect.”
He started a rhythm of deep, slow strokes that had my entire body feeling the depths each time he landed.
“More,” I gasped, pulling him in closer, urging him deeper.
His eyes narrowed on mine and his pace turned more demanding. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room with each thrust.
The angle, the depth, the way he hit that perfect spot with every stroke was perfection.
“Emir—”
“I got you, baby,” he coaxed while his fingers found my clit.
My orgasm slammed into me, hard and fast, while my body clamped down around him as I fell apart.
He cursed, thrusting deep one last time, and his body jerked as he found his own release, spilling inside of me until his breath was uncontrollably ragged against my neck.
We stayed there, limbs tangled with us on the floor until our breathing slowed.
After a moment, he shifted, flipping us, and pulled me onto his chest, wrapping his arms around me.
“Damn,” I rushed out with my voice hoarse.
He kissed my forehead and a lazy smirk surfaced. “You good?”
“You asking because you care or because you’re ego needs to be stroked?”
His grin widened. “Both.”
I rolled my eyes and dropped my head on his shoulder. “We work.”
“Yeah we do.” He kissed my forehead again and I sighed into the satisfaction of this man, our lives, and the insanity of needing all of it and him.
Chapter
Sixteen
Emir.
Baylyn was still asleep when I left the house. I fucking loved the idea of her tucked into my bed like she belonged there. I pressed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing my keys and heading out.
I drove in complete silence, moving through the city until I was close to the address we had for Trent. My mind was heavy as fuck thinking about how different my life currently was. Baylyn had changed things without even trying which was why I needed to figure out this shit with Trent. It took Yair a minute to find this property.
Like the rest of us, he kept things in place that hid access to his life but if you knew what you were looking for, finding people wasn’t impossible. Most didn’t care enough to invest the time but this was fucking necessary. Parking a block over from his place, I shut off the engine and took a moment to assess things.
If Trent was actually staying there, this would be simple. One shot to the head and I’d deal with the consequences if there were any. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be that lucky.
I got out and moved between the houses, avoiding cameras with blind spots mapped out in my head. I reached the back entrance and broke in through a basement door, stepping into the dark space.
The stairs creaked under my boots as I climbed them, gun drawn with my thoughts and movements calculated. The house was too damn quiet. Stepping into the living room, I scanned the space. Everything looked normal. No sign of a struggle, nothing missing, which also seemed off.
If Trent had truly gone underground, this place shouldn’t feel like he left the house with intentions of coming back. There should have been signs of a quick exit, things missing, furniture out of place, an emptied closet, but his house was still lived in, like he planned on coming back.
I moved through the space, clearing each room. Kitchen? Clean aside from a few dirty dishes left in the sink. Living room? TV remote on the armrest and a jacket draped over the sofa.
I made my way to his office and the desk was cluttered, but his laptop was still there which damn sure didn’t make sense. If he was really running, he wouldn’t have left it behind.
