at him, there was still something in her eyes . . . something almost haunted.
No. No time for that, not anymore. Nothing mattered now. They were together.
As she lay back down, he stretched his body out over hers . . . felt that amazing, gut-wrenching connection. Nothing would ever feel as right as this, her body against his, her eyes staring into his.
Except . . .
Something was off—
She was holding back. Those solid walls of hers were back in place, holding steady as he pushed his thigh between hers. He wanted to sink completely into her. Body to body, soul to soul . . .
“You’re holding back from me,” he muttered, settling in the cradle of her hips.
“Shhh,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his jaw. One hand curved over the back of his neck, tugging him closer. She slid the other hand down over his chest, across his abdomen, and he shuddered, his muscles bunching and jumping under her touch. Her fist closed around him, stroked up. Down. “Make love to me, Joss . . . haven’t we waited long enough?”
A hundred years . . . a lifetime.
Groaning, he caught her knee in one hand, dragging it up. As he did, he pressed against her, the head of his shaft seeking out her soft, wet heat. Her lashes fluttered down. Shoving his hand into her hair, he tugged her head back. “No,” he snarled. “Look at me, damn it. I have to see you . . . see this.”
Slowly, her lashes rose.
Her lips parted.
Catching one of her hands, he twined their fingers. Palm to palm. Skin to skin. As he slowly started to sink inside her, the slick, wet tissues of her sex closing around him, he sank lower, felt her heart pounding against his. Heart to heart.
“Mine,” he muttered against her mouth. “Finally mine.”
She opened for him, twining her legs around his hips, her tongue seeking out his as he stabbed it into her mouth. So hungry for her. So desperate.
Her pussy, wet, slick, and sweet as sin, gripped him, milking him as he pulled out, surged back in. She cried out against his mouth. He felt the pleasure splintering through her, despite the shields she tried to keep between them. It echoed through him, and he knew he’d been right . . . this wasn’t going to last.
Working a hand between them, he flicked his thumb over the erect little bud of her clit. The hood was stiff, pressing against him, and when he pressed against her, her entire body quaked. “You like that.”
She didn’t answer in words, but he felt it as she moved against him, her slender, strong body a long arch under his. She tore her mouth away, sucking in one ragged breath after another.
He flicked her clit once. Twice. She tensed, the muscles of her sheath resisting him as he surged back in. Tight, so fucking tight he had to work just to get back in. A hot flush started low on her breasts and her breaths came in broken little pants.
Another teasing stroke and her eyes locked on his. Joss stared at her, and felt it shatter through her.
Echoing through him.
As she broke into a thousand pieces, he felt it . . . and he shattered right along with her.
TWENTY-SEVEN
"WHAT do you mean . . . she doesn’t exist?”
Patrick eyed the organized chaos taking place in his house as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.
“Mr. Whitmore, I’ve gone as deep on her as I can and it’s a good front. A very good one. But you’re dealing with a woman who faked her identity. I don’t know how she managed to craft a false identity quite so thorough, but that’s exactly what she’s done.”
Faked her identity . . .
Rage seethed through him.
Storming through the mansion, he made his way to Ella . . . no, not Ella. The whore. The whore. Who was she?
As he came into her room, he stood there, looking for something . . . anything.
There. By the sink was her makeup case. Lowering the phone, he bellowed for Lydia.
She emerged from the depths of the mansion only seconds later, her face remote, expressionless. “Get a plastic bag, gloves. I want Ella’s makeup case bagged. I want it sent out.”
She nodded and disappeared.
Something rubbed against his ankle. Looking down, he saw Demeter rubbing her head against him. Rage tripped through him. For a second, he thought about grabbing the little feline, snapping her