Page 74 of Dukes of Peril

The command to unleash ripples through me. My hands clamp around her hips but it doesn’t still the shudder running down her spine, or the muscles in her thighs from clamping around mine. I fall with her, exploding in the narrow channel between her legs, the hot, sticky cum binding us together.

The air in the car is hot. Sweaty skin. Shuddering breaths. It should be stifling but I feel like I’m gulping in fresh air for the first time in my life.

It’s the result of letting go. Revelation.

It’s the embodiment of us.

13

Lavinia

“Just, uh, squeeze in there.”I pant, stretched to my limit. Sy grimaces, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. “Can you reach?”

“If I shift like this, I can.” His body moves like a contortionist. The problem is his size, obviously. That’s always the problem with Simon Perilini. He’s just so fucking huge. “Okay wait,” he grunts, moving one last time. “How about this?”

“Yes! Oh my God, yes!” We grin at one another. “Okay, now just move your fingers a little…” His fingers flail around. “Almost, yes! That’s it. Right there.”

As his grip finds the right spot, I also get in position. Our gaze holds as I silently count to three and we move at the same time. He wraps his massive hand around the old crank handle as I flip the lever across the room.

The old metal wheezes to life.

Sy’s muscles bulge as he gives it his all, the cog turning with a grinding noise as the mechanisms spin. Remy had a good point before about Sy being the strongest, and I see that strength now, his body rippling with it, eyes narrowed in determination. His white tank doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, and I get a little dazed as his biceps swell and shift. It’s a struggle to move my gaze to the pendulum hanging down the center of the tower. I wait for the connectors to trip it off, to force them to swing but—

“Ugh!” I groan. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sy deflates while his chest heaves from exertion. Wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead, he offers, “Want me to do it again?”

“No.” I slump against the wall, resisting the urge to kick the closest thing. “Something’s still wrong, and I don’t want to force it.” I point to the system overhead. “When you crank that, this whole section should connect into this other part, which should then propel the ropes that hold the pendulum, whichthenshould make the hands move.”

I thought if I got Sy to turn the crank, everything would get moving. But it only partially worked. I eye the area I’m convinced is the culprit. I searched high and low for the nut I finally got to fit, but now I’m not so sure.

Sy eases himself out of the tight area he had to wedge into in order to reach the lever and holds up his oily hands. “Well, I can say for certain we definitely used enough lube that time.”

Remy pops his head through the door, gaze pinned to my face. “No luck?”

Shrugging, I answer, “Some. Sy got the crank to work, but it trips up around here.” I point to the area I’m pretty sure is the problem, but my attention is diverted by the pull of Remy’s shoulders as he slips into his motorcycle jacket. “What’s up?”

“I’m headed to my meeting,” he says, green eyes trained too intently on zipping up his jacket. “Just, uh, wanted to let everyone know.”

He’s been good about this. Communicating his comings and goings. At first I thought it may be a good way to keep us from asking questions, but now I suspect having another layer of accountability makes him feel more secure.

Whatever he needs, we’re happy to give it.

Sy dusts off his hands. “Cool. I think we’re just going to stay in tonight.” His blue eyes sweep to mine, face carefully blank. We talked about it yesterday, the drive home from the cemetery somehow both relaxed and buzzing with the tension of what comes next for us.

Nick announced this afternoon he has some business to take care of, and Remy has been going to meetings pretty consistently, so we saw the opportunity coming. It gives Sy and I a few hours to work on our other project.

“Definitely,” I agree, not sure why my cheeks feel warm. Sex in this house is no secret. Their need for me, and frankly my need for them, is pretty well known, but it still feels strange to be so open about it. I give the lever a casual tap. “Just a quiet night at home alone.”

“Sure, Vinny.” Remy snorts, flashing me one of his panty-dropping smirks. “You keep pretending like you’re not a screamer.”

“I am not!” I shout, grabbing the first thing I come in contact with—one of the clock repair manuals—and toss it in his direction.

He snags it out of the air and tucks it under his arm, giving Sy a lazy salute. “Save some for me, brother.”

“Hey, give that back,” I demand, but Remy just grins and ducks back down the staircase. I throw my hands in the air. “Fuckingguys, I swear!”

Sy stalks up, following my gaze, and says, “Forget him.” Bracing his forearm on the low-hanging rod above my head, he reaches out to graze my hip with his greasy fingers. “Let’s go make the most of a quiet house.” Even though he’s towering over me, hemming me in, his blue eyes simmer with playful anticipation. “You think we’ll both fit in the shower?”

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