Page 123 of Shattered Jewel
Every stroke sends a spark of pleasure snaking up my spine.
“Three…” I pull in air like a drowning person breaking the surface when Wilder hits a particularly delicious spot. His thumb circles my clit while I’m stretched thin around him.
My fingers clutch at the chair, attempting to hold onto my focus as he continues his expert manipulation of my body. Wilder’s fingers delve within me even as he fucks me, exploring depths I had forgotten existed, inciting rapture that makes my head spin. Four, five, six, seven, eight?—
“Nine!” A cry escapes my lips as he buries himself more deeply within me.
And then, nothing.
The tension winds tighter and snaps.
Wilder’s voice drops to a subhuman frequency as his fingers and dick work me harder, faster—”Scream for me,” he commands in a hoarse voice that teases the edges of my sanity.
I buck against him, feeling myself nearing the edge of an explosive climax. My chest tightens and my breathing becomes shallow.
“Ten,” I manage to choke out before everything implodes.
Wilder’s rhythm falters as he nears his own climax. I can feel him pulse and twitch within me, signaling his impending release. His touch becomes rougher as he fucks me faster and deeper…
“Wilder…” is all I can manage to stutter out before he comes undone with me; my eyes remaining wide open, drinking in every detail.
Wilder fills me to overflowing as our climaxes crash together like two competing tidal waves from opposite directions.
The world around us continues in pulsating motion even as we come down from our shared high. Attempting to regain a semblance of control, I force myself to keep counting.
“Ten, I ended at ten,” I remind myself, my voice a scratch of its former self. My heart is pounding so hard, it’s making my throat ache as I take in the scene again.
Wilder’s hand lingers on top of my pussy, as if relishing the memory of how he molded it to fit his shape, before reluctantly drawing back.
I count again, fighting to stay focused amidst the sexual haze clouding my mind.
I get to ten, and my heart misses a beat before crashing down with a sinking dread. I count again, triple-checking to mask the rising panic.
Wilder, quick to pick up on the shift in my emotion, pulls out of me slowly and turns me around to face him. I’m too lost in my growing panic to notice our disentanglement, or the minor discomfort it brings.
His gaze peers into mine through our masks. “Elara?”
Wilder’s never said my first name before.
“Sasha is gone,” I breathe out, fear seeping into every syllable. “She was with two initiates…” My voice drops to a whimper as I add, “…and they’re gone, too.”
Chapter 30
Kaspian
THE BOGEYMAN
Isilently scale Thornhaven Manor’s exterior, finding purchase on the weathered stones. The wind howls, tugging at my clothes as if trying to tear me off the mansion’s skin because it’s figured out I am no longer loyal to it.
Cav and Wilder are close behind, our movements deft and sure despite not using this particular entrance since we were initiates. Because of the positioning of the cameras, we can make a direct climb starting crouched in the untended bushes below and three stories up without being spotted.
I’d take credit for the risky path, but it was Wilder, annoyed at being caged in the manor by the Sovereigns, who discovered this particular blind spot and was harebrained enough to attempt it. After that, we regularly sneaked out as fifteen-year-olds and attended college parties, most of us losing our virginities to older women.
Me, I was well into fucking by that time.
Reaching the attic window, I pry it open with practiced ease and slip inside, my breath coming out shallow. The three of us group near the original painting of the manor with the pretty gardens, and the sole silhouette looking up at the mansion.
“Ready?” I murmur, though the question is more a formality. We’ve been primed since the moment Axe went missing.