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“Come for me,” the voice orders. “Be a good boy. Come for me and say my name.”
“Fa…fas…ter.”
The room fills with the sound of our flesh smacking together as she fucks me harder.
“Yes…oh fuck.”
My fingers dig into her legs as every muscle tightens and I come with such force that I stop breathing. Each jet of come flies out, filling her, and all I can think is finally.
She’s mine.
“Ahh, fuck! Alden, yes,” Emily yells, her walls tightening around my cock as she comes.
She’s my Goddess without the skull mask, chest heaving, and hips bucking as she milks the orgasm from both of us.
I’m so out of it that I can barely move now.
“You look tired. Let me clean you up,” Emily says, sliding down my body and sucking me into her mouth.
My cock that had just started to go limp, hardens. Her tongue is incredible and torture at the same time.
I’ve no idea how long she has been sucking and licking me before I scream and come again. My entire body jerks with the intense release. Then Emily is standing beside the bed, black negligée on, a smile on her face.
“You look exhausted. You should get some sleep.”
Bending over, she kisses my forehead and steps away from the bed, her brilliant smile firmly in place. So sexy. I watch her back into the darkness of the closet, and then she’s gone.
Relaxation floods my system, and my limbs will no longer obey. Best fucking dream of my life.
I hold my eyes open for a second more, and then…complete darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ALDEN
With a gasp, I jerk awake, sit up straight, and immediately regret the decision. My head is throbbing. What the fuck? Flashes of last night come in waves, but nothing is clear. Like a movie I can only remember in glimpses.
Emily’s scent. The feel of her hands on my skin as she rode me. The sound of her voice blending with the mechanical one as she threw words back in my face. My mask and the mirrors reflecting back at me.
A chill races through my body. Opening my eyes, I stare down at my pants. They are still zipped and buttoned, with my shirt tucked in, as neat as I expect from sleeping in my clothes. Was it a dream or was it real? My eyes drift around the room and land on the clock.
I blink once and then twice.
“Does that say three PM? That can’t be right.”
I check my pockets, but my phone isn’t there. My legs work, but I’m sluggish as I push up to my feet and cross the room to the window. Bright sunlight fills the room as I pull back the blackout drapes. I wince away, covering my face like a vampire.
Something is not right. I don’t oversleep, or drink too much, or dream, let alone such a lust-filled sex fantasy. I slowly turn around and stare at the room. Nothing has been moved. Clenching my fists, I force my legs to work and march out to the living room. Picking up the glass and the bottle of scotch, I put them both in a bag to be tested.
Someone drugged me. I’m sure of it, but who?
The fantasy I understand. Emily has been under my skin for weeks despite my attempts to push the feelings down.
Who the hell was in my home? How do they know which bottle I drink from? Does this have to do with my father’s death? Do they know my secret? Is this payback? What do they plan to do with the information?
This only confirms that Rob’s death is no sick twist of fate or an accident. This is indeed an attack, and the gun is pointed directly at me. I don’t need proof. I can feel it in my bones. Everything is connected, but why?
In my office, I slide open the secret access panel behind the fake books that hold my surveillance system. It records everything and notes when the condo door opens. I unplug the laptop, pull it out of the hidden room, and sit at my desk.
