Page 34

“Okay.”

A palace. Of course her favorite place is somewhere she can play princess for free. Jesus Christ. I’m going to ruin this woman with nice things.

And there’s one place I’ve been saving. My favorite place in all of Chicago. More important than anything else I could show her. I’m already hopelessly fucked for this girl.

It’s going to happen.

Soon.

CHAPTER 9

Jubilee

SIX WEEKS LATER

Six weeks ago, Gage Cannon stopped with his hand beneath my skirt.

Tonight, there are no such concerns. Right now, he’s got a grip on my ass. Progress. His car is parked on a back dirt road near my apartment building, and the fogged windows obscure the early September darkness.

So much has changed. Sometimes, I catch my reflection, and I recognize her. Me. The cheap black dye has started washing out of my hair, making room for the copper-gold highlights. The antique heart locket he gave me for our one-month anniversary rests against my throat, and I fiddle with it a lot. He always notices.

Until last week, he insisted on an offensively traditional relationship: holding hands, stolen kisses, the occasional ass grab. Apparently, he wanted to make sure our meet-cute over a corpse hadn’t scrambled my judgment.

We haven’t talked much about that night. Knowing me, I’d ruin it. But this? Yeah, I’m insanely good at this, though I’ve never felt more challenged in the art of sexual pursuit.

His mouth opens mine again, beard rasping my skin as I try to remember how breathing works. His shirt is on the passenger seat, giving me unfettered access to all his chiseled muscles. Every button on my shirt is undone, exposing my bra, my nipples hardening through the black lace.

I’m straddling him in the driver’s seat, my back digging into the wheel, my front crushed against his. Tension vibrates all along his rigid frame. I don’t know what’s harder—the wheel or…him.

He hasn’t let me touch him. I haven’t asked why. Right now, I’m living for it, rocking slow against him, sinfully rubbing his sizable shaft.

“You know how long I’ve been fucking thinking about this?” he murmurs against my lips.

“Oh—mmm.” My breath hitches as he shifts to the line of my underwear. Other than tipping my head back, I don’t move a muscle as he moves the fabric to the side, strokes along the wet lips, then thrusts hard inside.

I lurch. He catches my mouth with his. I whimper, then moan when he starts finger fucking me. My pulse shudders, kicking into overdrive. My hips begin to rock again.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says low and husky. “Ride my fingers. Show me how tight you can clench. Good girl.” Clearly, we’ve discussed a few kinks by now. And Gage is unfairly good at all of them.

My pussy swells, throbbing and leaking around him. Every nerve ending is like a live wire. His free hand shoves both bra cups down, cinching them at my bust and plumping my breasts.

“Fuck!” I cry out when he rolls one erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Little sensitive, are we?” he asks.

“They may be remarkably average, but yeah. Super sensitive. Breast orgasms are a thing for me.”

“Jubilee York,” he gets that low scolding tone. The pad of his thumb rubs against each nipple. “Your breasts are not remarkably average. They are remarkable. And I will hear no arguments. Now, where were we?” His expression turns carnal, primal.

Gage pulls out his fingertips, then drives them through my soaked insides again. Harder and deeper than before. I gasp and clench more, hips bucking. “Yes, take it, Princess. Fuck them like a dirty girl.” He increases the rhythm and pressure.

“Ugh, Gage, you fucking pri⁠—”

All it takes is him kissing my neck, tweaking one nipple, then rubbing my clit with the heel of his palm while his fingers are still buried—I shatter.

His head snaps up in the middle of my shriek. “Look at me when I make you come,” he commands, gripping my breast harder.

And I do. My blood catches fire, set ablaze, burning from the inside out until my skin sparks everywhere. The climax tears through me, coursing a delicious heat through every part of me until it splashes my face. His dark gaze holds mine.