He actually goes into the bathroom of his own accord, and I hear him drinking toilet water a minute later. At least the toilets here are clean enough to eat off of. Crown is a clean freak. I’m not at all surprised by that.
“Does it work on you is the important question?” Crown asks me, sitting down on his side of the bed. From where I’m at, I can see the tattoos on his back better. I know he has a Lady of Justice on one hip, a grave on the other, and a police car on his arm. There’s a story to his ink, supposedly. Am I about to hear it?
“Maybe. Want to tell me how you ended up as Cat’s righthand instead of in a shallow grave?” My lips tingle with want for a cigarette, and I moan, leaning back in the pillows without remembering my shirt and its dangerous propensity to ride up my thighs.
Crown groans, and I glance down to see that just a tiny snippet of dark hair can be seen between my legs. I tug the shirt down with one hand and glance over at him, feeling the tension hot and heavy between us.
He lifts his gaze back to my face, but it looks like it hurts to control himself like that. Has he been hurting this much for the last few years? I know I have. I’ve ached for him, for all of them, and I didn’t even know it.
I would’ve sworn that I hated them all.
I even managed to make myself believe it for a while.
“For almost two years, I was reporting back to the ATF,” Crown says with a slight smile, looking down at his lap. “For two years, Gidget.”
“Two years?!” I choke out, eyes wide as I stare him down. “You’re fucking with me?”
“Not at all.” He stands up again, this time dropping his hands to the waistband of his jeans. My eyes are drawn to his strong fingers as they flick open the top button and yank down the zipper. Unfortunately, he’s wearing black boxer briefs underneath.
I mean … well, his ass looks criminal, those hard, muscular planes trapped under tight, black fabric. But I’d rather he was wearing nothing at all.
“Does Cat know?” I ask, and Crown shakes his head, picking his jeans up and putting them in the hamper. He turns his light off on his side of the bed and then climbs on next to me. My light is still on, but that’s it. It just barely illuminates us and the bed, leaving a ring of shadows around the rest of the room.
Everything feels poignant and hushed all of a sudden.
“Of course he doesn’t know,” he says, leaning his head back against the huge wooden headboard. Crown closes his eyes and lets out another sigh, his body relaxing visibly as I watch. This is what he wanted, Gidge. This is what he was dreaming of. Someone to talk to. Someone to love. Someone to trust.
I reach down and curl my fingers through his, and his eyes shoot open. He turns to look at me like I’m completely disturbed.
“What? You think I don’t know how to be affectionate? Cat and Nellie weren’t very affectionate toward me, but I had Queenie and Posey. I don’t know how either of them knew how to hug or love or smile the way they did—maybe it was instinctual—but it was something that I needed to be taught.” I give Crown’s hand a squeeze as he drops his gaze to our entwined fingers, studying my right hand before looking back at my face.
“I never once thought that about you,” he tells me, and I shiver all over. “And I don’t believe you needed to be taught anything.” With a yank of his hand, Crown draws me over to him so that I end up straddling his lap. The t-shirt pools around my hips, but my cunt is bare and hot against the already hardening bulge beneath his boxer briefs. “Everything you do seems fairly instinctual to me,” he murmurs against my ear, making me shiver. “I know everything there is to know, Gidge. I know you’ve never slept with anyone besides the four of us. And you know what? That fucking gets me off like nothing else.”
“Shut up,” I snap, shoving at him, unsurprised when he captures my hands. “How are you even alive right now? Cat just lets traitors in the club then?” I can hardly believe how snippy I sound, how dark my voice has gotten. Perfect little club daughter, aren’t I?
“You know, my mother died when I was only eight years old. I ended up living with my aunt. She raised me, Gidge. And one day, she was murdered by a man that had already been convicted of killing another woman. He got out early on good behavior.” He lets out a sharp laugh, and I can see where some of that darkness is coming from. Everything starts to slide into place for me. See, with Crown, with that black and white mentality of his, he would have had a hard time dealing with that. He’d probably think a man like that deserved to die … “Anyway, he was indicted for my aunt’s murder, but he walked on a technicality.”
Crown takes my hands and puts one on either of his hip tattoos, and I can see where we’re going with this. There’s that police car tattoo on one arm, a motorcycle on the other. There’s so much more, of course, but those are the ones that stand out. So there really is some sort of story here.
“And … you killed him?” I ask hopefully. Crown looks at me in such a way that I can see what the answer is without him needing to utter it.
“That was right after I became a hang-around with the club.” He laughs and kisses my fingers, closing his eyes for a minute. “That’s how I ended up on the roof. Completely drunk off my ass, some random girl sucking my dick …” He trails off and then opens his eyes. “I killed that man in a drunken rage, and the boys helped me bury the body.”
He sighs.
“Anyway, for two years after that, I was … fuck, I’m not sure what I was. A double agent, I guess. I was serving both the ATF and the club at the same time. But eventually, I realized that over time, I wasn’t Calder Reid anymore: I was just Crown.”
“And then what?” I ask, but Crown just exhales tiredly, and I can see that this is weighing on him more heavily than any of the others. He really truly and utterly was Cat’s loyal righthand. Jesus fucking Christ.
“I brought Cat the CI that had introduced me to the club in the first place. And then I shot him before he could rat me out alongside him.” Crown releases my hands. “Nobody here is innocent, Gidge. It isn’t just Cat that deserves a place in hell.” He meets my eyes dead-on. “I turned my back on everything outside of the club. My records were sealed because my superiors knew that DBD would look into my background. That’s the only reason I’m still here. I can’t for the life of me figure out how the mafia boy knows, but I will say this: if he wanted to bring us down, all he would need to do is talk to Cat. That’d be it for me and maybe even for you.”
“He isn’t going to talk,” I tell Crown, and I really and truly believe that. Grey must’ve discovered that information on his own somehow. If Alvise or Giulia or anyone else higher up in their organization knew, they’d have spilled it to Cat somehow, someway, even if it was just in the form of a taunt.
“Don’t show your father the video call; it’s what he wants. He wants something he can use to hold over your head. Show him … text messages.” Crown takes my palms and puts them on his chest. “Those can be fabricated easily. It allows for some plausible deniability.”
“You’re a master manipulator, aren’t you?” I accuse, feeling myself get flushed at the idea that Crown just literally handed me the smoking gun he’s so worried about Cat having. “Why did you tell me all this? Because Grey spilled the beans first?”
“Because I want what you and I have to be different.” Crown’s words are dark, laden with possibilities and promises. “The reason I wanted a partner is because I wanted someone who could let me be Calder or Crown or someone else entirely and not care. Because I am all of those people and not just one of them.”
He looks me over as I slide my hands up his abs and over his chest.
“I still can’t believe you’re pregnant,” he adds, and I sit back with a huff.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I retort as he grits his teeth.
“Because this whole thing is nuts,” he replies, reaching up and then fisting his hand in my hair hard enough to make me gasp. “I can’t even believe you’re sitting here, in my bed, in
my room.” His mouth twitches slightly and I know what he’s waiting for, even if he is gripping my hair the way he is.
“My bed, my room,” I correct, and he sighs as if in ecstasy, pressing his mouth to mine in a cool, confident sort of way, like he’s certain he made the right choice in telling me that secret tonight. I could ruin him. I could ruin him, and it would have nothing to do with the situation with Grey. I could bring down Crown and just Crown, without ever risking the other guys.
He’s giving me his trust. Just like I gave mine to Beast.
“We’re a tangled web,” I murmur, but then Crown presses harder into me, taking me with his mouth, owning me, claiming me. I find that I don’t even mind. Because he’s given up everything for the privilege. Fucking everything. “You know that I love you, right? You believe that.”
“I believe it,” he murmurs, yanking on my hair just a little harder. “I’d believe it even more if you were to take that t-shirt off and show me your pretty cunt.”
“Oh, but I already offered that, and you turned it down,” I tease, and he gives me such a dark look that I shiver with pleasure. Sometimes, the darkness just chooses you. It’s chosen me, and I don’t even care. “You’re pretty, you know that, Calder Reid? So damn pretty.”
“I have to be,” he responds easily, as if that thought was never even in question. “It’s my one, saving grace.” He blinks, and it’s like he’s snapped into an entirely different mode. I sense it, too, and shift on his lap, anticipation spiking through me. We both know what’s about to happen. “A little birdy told me that you think you own the four of us, rather than the other way around.”
I narrow my eyes. Sin, that little shit.
“You guys talk about me when I’m not around?” I query, and Crown laughs. The sound is both pleasant and terrifying, all at the same time—but in a good way. In a very, very good way.
“Of course we do. All the time.” He releases his grip on my hair and strokes some of it back behind my ear, almost gently. Almost. Because there’s a terse warning there, a chance for me to say no to this moment, to change its course. I don’t. I want to play this game with Crown. This softness, it belies what’s truly going to happen the rest of the night. “We talk about the positions you like best, the sounds you make, how good you feel wrapped around our cocks.”
“Bullshit,” I snort, shaking my head at him. “I don’t believe that for a second. I can’t imagine you guys putting your jealousy aside long enough to have a conversation that’s anything like that.”
“Oh, well, you’d be surprised the way we can hype each other up. It’s part of the game, to see who can get you into bed next.” His smile turns into something autocratic, domineering, sexy as fuck. “Guess I win this round.” Crown snaps his fingers. “Now, take your goddamn shirt off and don’t make me ask again.”
I breathe deep, but I reach down and curl my fingers around the hem of the tee, lifting it up to reveal the heavy, aching mounds of my breasts, my already wet cunt, the slightly swollen front of my belly. It’s not much, not yet, but I can feel the changes already. Or shit, maybe I’m just bloated? Either way, it’s the baby’s fault.
Crown notices, too, teasing his fingertips across my navel.
“I hope this one isn’t mine,” he says absently, letting his eyes find my breasts next before lifting his gaze to my face. “I want that opportunity to keep you for myself, to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until it takes.”
“Shut up,” I growl out, but he grabs me by the hair and gives it a tug.
“Shut up? Is that how you speak to me?” he asks, and then he drops his mouth to my nipple and sucks it into his hot mouth. I moan, even though I almost hate myself for giving in, arching my chest toward him. “You told Sin that you own us? Bullshit. You belong to me, and you know it.”
He releases me and lifts his chin in that haughty way of his.
“Get on all fours and present your cunt to me; I want to take it with my mouth from behind.”
I huff and start to move, but he grabs me by the chin and makes me look at him.
“Say yes, sir, and I’ll let your insolence go.”
“Yes, sir,” I drawl out, swinging my legs off his lap. He slaps me right in the ass, and I groan, even though it’s embarrassing as hell. How can I explain it? I don’t want to be told what to do in real life, but in the bedroom, it’s okay on occasion. More than okay, it’s what I want. It gives me a chance to just give up and let everything go, let the whole world become somebody else’s problem. That’s the appeal.
I get on all fours, my knees slightly spread as Crown moves around behind me.
He makes this … this sound when he sees what he’s looking at.
“Fuck, it’s so ripe,” he murmurs, reaching out and spreading me wide so that he can see the glistening pinkness underneath. “Like a goddamn peach or something.”
I bite the quilt beneath me to stifle my protests. I want this, but it’s still hard. I also want to kick Crown in the balls. That’s part of what makes it fun.
He grips my hips and then rubs his slightly stubbled face against the softness of my ass cheeks. The roughness of his hair makes me whimper, and I bite down even harder on the blanket to stifle the sound.
“You’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you, Gidget?” he asks, and I release the blanket from between my teeth.
“It’s Gidge,” I correct, and Crown slaps my ass so hard that it stings, following up the smack with a gentle caress of his hand.
“It’s whatever the hell I say it is. Tell me you’re naughty. Tell me how wet you are.”
This is the opposite of last time, when he told me to tell him that I was a good girl. Whatever. I’m both. Sin and salvation. We’re all aware of that.
“I’m naughty,” I tell him, and he groans. “And I’m dripping. I’m dripping for you, Crown.” Next thing I know, he’s yanking me to the edge of the bed and making me put my feet flat on the floor. He kneels down behind me, his tyrannical mouth on my swollen heat. He slips his tongue inside, tasting me and murmuring his approval.
“You taste different now. Must be the pregnancy hormones. But holy shit, I could lap this shit up all day.”
I wiggle back against his face, and he slips his tongue inside of me again. He really does eat me like he wants to savor every bite, like I’m a feast for him and him alone. He laves me with that tongue, bathing my body with his saliva as he laps up all of my desire.
Crown takes his time, like this is for him and not for me. He ignores my silent command when I push back into his face, grabbing my hips and forcing me to remain still. He even ignores my clit, and I start to feel like I might go crazy if he doesn’t touch it.
Beads of sweat appear on my body as I struggle to remain calm under the onslaught of his mouth. When he pulls away, I almost scream.
“Stay right there,” he commands, moving to his nightstand and pulling out some lube and a purple toy that looks sort of like a dildo, but is far too thin to be one. It has silicone beads of varying sizes, starting small and working up to one that’s about the third the girth of Crown’s cock. “I bought this for you,” he tells me, tossing it on the bed so that I can look at it. “I ordered it online after you broke me down that night, after I accepted this was how things were going to be.”
I take the toy in my hand and study it.
“It’s for that perfect rosebud of an ass that you have.” He snaps his fingers and I give the toy back. “Tell me thank you.”
This piece of shit … I breathe out.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, what?” he corrects, and I grind my teeth together.
“Thank you, sir.”
He smiles at me, my cheek pressed to the bed. Crown moves around behind me and fiddles with his jeans. I hear the sound of him squirting the lube into his hands, rubbing his palms together to work it up, and then he’s spreading it all down my length.
It tingles, and heat sears through my most sensitive parts. Oh my God. It
must be that heated lubricant shit. I’ve never used anything like this before. Until recently, like with Sin’s vibrator, I haven’t played around with anything more than bodies with these men.
I enjoyed being with Sin in the woods, just us as primal and raw as the earth. This is fun, too. It’s all fun.
There’s a very lewd sound coming from behind me as Crown works his cock with the lube, this squelching noise as he fists his dick and jerks himself off, making me thrust back toward him in want.
He smacks my ass again.
“No. Stay still or I’m not going to fuck you. I’ll just come on your ass and go to bed. Tell your vice president what a sorry little hang-around you are, and maybe I’ll consider letting you prospect into my club.”
“Oh,” I groan, rubbing my thighs together as I bite onto the quilt again. Does he have any idea how much that turns me on, the thought of having my own jacket, my own motorcycle, of being a part of Death by Daybreak in a way that I’ve craved for so long. I pretended to hate it. I did. Yet, we can all see through that lie now. “I’m sorry, Vice President. I’m naughty, and I can’t help myself.”
He likes that; I can tell. His breathing quickens, and then I feel a slight pressure on my ass. The first tiny bead slips in, and I curl my fingers into the blanket. It’s so damn tight; I’ve only done it once like this before. The thing is, if I can take Grainger’s huge dick in the ass with nothing but a lubricated condom, I can take this.
I want to take this.
“Look at you, so greedy,” Crown murmurs, pushing the toy in another notch. I exhale, closing my eyes against the dim glow of the master bedroom. I keep saying ‘my room’, but …
“I love this,” I whisper, getting choked up from the pleasure. “You fucking me in our bedroom. Ours. Not mine or yours. Ours.”
“Stop that,” Crown commands, spanking me again and making my skin sting pleasantly. “You’ll get me worked up too fast with that shit.” He pauses again and then slips the toy in further, making my stomach muscles clench at the delicious invasion. “Our bedroom,” he repeats, voice broody but pleased. “Our house.” The toy goes in another notch. “Our baby.”
I Will Revel in Glory Page 31