Hope For More (Trinity Book 3)

by Devin Fontaine

  “I know. I won’t do it anymore. I was worried and didn’t think. Say you forgive me.” He knew he was playing dirty, using desire to influence Hope to see things his way, but Fates, he needed her more than he needed air, or water, or… shit, he needed her more than anything he could think of. Thomas breathed heavily into her ear and jabbed his tongue inside, something he knew drove her wild. Hope shuddered, tilted her head to give him better access, and cried out.

  “Oh God.”

  She pushed off the counter and leaned into Thomas, her head falling back to rest against his chest. He snaked a hand up from where it clutched her waist and wrapped it lightly around her throat. She hummed her pleasure. Fates, the way she let him take a possessive hold on the such a vulnerable part of her made his blood boil and his cock ache.

  “I missed you,” he murmured, sliding his other hand under the waistband of her jeans. His fingers froze and his erection gave a sharp jerk. “You naughty little tease,” Thomas whispered when he found no other barrier between his hand and the slick warmth of her sex. “Commando?”

  “Laundry day,” she groaned, squirming against him as he slowly circled a finger over the tiny nub at the apex of her thighs. “Thomas.”

  He removed his hand from her pants and spun her around. Hope stood on her toes and threaded her fingers in Thomas’s hair, fisting huge hunks to yank him down her until their mouths connected. She wasn’t gentle and his scalp burned as she pulled on his hair. And he fucking loved it. He could literally kiss Hope all day and never grow tired. Their lips were all over each other. It was desperate. It was greedy. And it was without a doubt the hottest kiss of Thomas’s existence. His hands began to wander, one grabbing and kneading Hope’s ass, whilst the other slid beneath her shirt to touch the silky skin; skin so hot it practically scalded his fingertips.

  Hope released the firm grip on his hair and raked her sharp nails across his scalp. Paralyzed by pleasure, Thomas closed his eyes and threw back his head as he groaned and a shudder had him trembling from head to toe.

  “Ahhhhhhh. Feels so good.” Lifting his heavy head, he licked his lips and watched the fire burn in Hope’s eyes. She kept those wicked nails moving, scraping them along his neck, down his shoulder blades, and finally to trace either side of his spine all the way down to the dimples at the lower curve of his back, stopping just above his ass. Her fingers played with the waistband of his pants, and Hope shot him a filthy smirk. The lusty, naughty expression on her face made his hips jerk and he almost came right then and there. Thomas moaned then barked in surprise when she roughly shoved both hands down the back of his jeans and dug her nails into his glutes. He cursed and with Hope trapped between his body and the granite counter, he ground his stiff cock into her abdomen. She cried out and bucked against him and that was it for him.

  Willpower broken. Snapped. Finished. Done.

  Hope had pushed and pushed until Thomas clung by his fingertips to the very edge of control, then with both hands, shoved him right over the edge of propriety. A feral snarl ripped from his throat. Fingers deft and sure, Thomas yanked open Hope’s pants, shoved them down and tore them off her feet. He easily hoisted her petite frame onto the countertop. A few quick flicks of his wrist and he released his throbbing erection.

  “I hope you’re ready,” Thomas snarled. With a vicious thrust, he drove forward and Hope yelped as he penetrated her. That glorious body sucked Thomas right in until his hips lay flush with her spread thighs. “Son of a…” He swallowed, his breaths coming in quick gasps. “Hope…”

  Thomas squeezed his eyes shut and forced out each word between heavy breaths. Shit. His groin already tingled and his cock throbbed. He must needs remain perfectly still to hold back the orgasm that churned right beneath the surface, ready to launch at the slightest move. After a moment, the sensation subsided and he met the passionate stare of his female, the one with whom he shared an intimate connection like no other. His dark green energy hissed and sizzled within not just his core, but his entire body. Sparks leapt from his skin to Hope’s, giving her more of that hazy green shimmer he was quickly becoming used to. Before he could utter another word, Hope wound her arms around his neck and hooked her ankles behind his back. Then she poked out her pink tongue and licked a path right up Thomas’s throat, leaving a burning trail in her wake. When she reached his ear, she breathed out the words that drove him right out of his mind.

  “I need you, Thomas. Please, fuck me, and don’t hold back.”

  Oh Fates.

  Thomas became dizzy with lust, and would swear his head flooded with so many emotions at once—passion, desire, need, love, affection—that he blacked out and lost time. All he could do—all he wanted to do—was exactly what Hope said.

  HOPE’S BODY vibrated with excitement. She never felt this aroused before. It was like her body was on fire, pure desire crawling beneath the surface of her skin. Thomas—hair and clothes disheveled, his eyes hooded and sultry, and looking as smoking-hot as usual—stood between her splayed thighs, buried deep inside her. She loved that he wanted her so desperately he didn’t bother to undress, only taking the time to unzip and pull out his erection to shove it right into her waiting sex. She watched his powerful body shake, his expression pained as he pulled himself back from the edge. Hope greedily took in the stunning sight of the buttoned-up lawyer coming apart, his shirt sticking to his skin and his hair standing every which way. Thomas braced his upper body on his arms, palms flat on the countertop on either side of her hips. Suddenly, she had to see more of him.

  Hope started to work on his dress shirt, quickly slipping tiny pearl buttons through their holes until it opened and hung from his shoulders. She shoved it over those rippling muscles and when she couldn’t get it any further, Thomas reached up and tore the fabric from his arms. Her gaze immediately dropped to his chest. He was a sight, all that tan skin and flexing abs. Thomas put his hands back on the counter and Hope’s gaze followed the sinewy lines of his biceps, veins bulging and tendons pulled taut.

  God, he’s so beautiful. Pure masculine power and energy.

  “Please,” she begged again, not caring how desperate or needy she sounded. She just needed him to move.

  Staring in her eyes, Thomas slowly drew his hips back. Hope sucked in a breath and braced herself, grabbing his shoulders and tightening her legs around his waist. Good thing she did, because when he snapped forward and plunged his thick length deep inside her, he did as requested and didn’t hold back a thing.

  “Oh fuck,” he shouted.

  He did it again, and again, pummeling Hope with vicious thrust after thrust. If she hadn’t been clinging to him, she would have smashed her head on the cabinets by now. Thomas kept going, pounding into her, their skin slapping together in a lewd symphony of grunts and groans and flesh on flesh. His fingers dug into Hope’s hips and she relished the pain. The pleasure was so intense, the sharp bite of his strong hold kept her grounded. She felt like without it, she might fly right out of her own skin.

  “Oh, God… Thomas. Yes!”

  “So fucking gorgeous.” Thomas never broke pace, not even when he leaned forward and crushed his mouth over hers, demanding the messiest, hottest kiss Hope ever experienced. When he tore his mouth free, he stayed close and their rapid breaths co-mingled along with every cry and passionate shout.

  He rolled those talented hips, his abs undulating as he worked his length inside her. The new angle stole her breath right from her lungs. She dug her nails into the meat of his shoulders and threw her head back on a scream. He continued thrusting, stabbing that amazing spot over and over, building the pleasure like water filling behind a dam. Thomas grunted and sank his teeth into the muscle between her neck and shoulder and the dam burst.

  “Ahhh, yes… Thomas, don’t stop.”

  “Never,” he rasped.

  Hope’s entire body spasmed as she came, muscles clenching, thighs pressing into Thomas’s ribs, and her spine tensing. The ecstasy that began in her sex rippled outward,
heat and pleasure exploding throughout her body. She heard Thomas shout her name and his rhythm stuttered. He slammed into her hard and stilled. Then he let out a sound so primal, goose bumps trailed down her arms.

  “Fates, yes! Ah, Hope, so fucking amazing.” He pulled halfway back one last time and shoved in deep, her channel clenched tight around his pulsing member.

  Sated and drained, Thomas slumped, his forehead resting on her breastbone. Hope leaned back, now grateful for the cabinets as they supported her own head. Lifting a hand, she threaded her fingers through his hair, damp with sweat. Thomas made a low noise and Hope smiled. It sounded almost like a big cat purring. After a moment, he stood straight and came free of her body. She missed him the second he was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, running his big hands up and down her sides.

  Leaning back on the cabinets with her eyes closed, Hope still rode the buzz of pleasure. “For what?”

  When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes. Thomas stood between her thighs, but his expression wasn’t that of someone who just had mind-blowing sex. She shuffled to sit upright.

  “For what?” she repeated.

  “For taking you like…” He gestured toward the countertop. “You know… here.”

  Hope snorted, then laughed. She took his hands in hers. “Stop. I loved it. I’m not made of glass and every time we, you know, get together, it doesn’t have to be flowers and candles in the bedroom.”

  Thomas glanced up. “You’re not upset I acted like an animal?”

  “Ha! Uh, no. Not at all.” Hope grabbed his belt loops, as he was still wearing his pants even though the fly was undone, and tugged him close. She brushed her lips on his. “I loved every second of it, Thomas More. It’s sexy to see you lose control.”

  He exhaled heavily and cupped her face. Thomas kissed her, this time slow and chaste, with feeling in each movement of his lips. Dare she say it seemed… loving.

  “You’re the sexy one, Hope Hartley.”

  She giggled and pecked his lips one last time before pushing on his chest.

  “What?” He frowned.

  “Um, I need to get down and, uh, clean up. And maybe get dressed.”

  “Oh.” Thomas blushed and Hope didn’t think she’d seen anything so charming. He gripped her waist and gently lowered her to the floor.

  After clothes were on and the kitchen put to rights, they snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie neither of them paid much attention to. Hope certainly didn’t. She was too busy wondering how soon was too soon to tell Thomas More that she loved him.

  CHAPTER 15

  “T ell me you saw it. I know I’m not losing my mind. It was right here in this drawer when we did inventory.”

  True had never seen Cressida so beside herself. The normally easygoing divinator was tearing apart her store, hunting for an object. She wouldn’t tell True what object, only a description of its box.

  “Red and orange inlaid stones in a mosaic pattern,” True repeated. Cressida ran over and gripped True’s hands in hers, nodding furiously.

  “Aye, that’s the one.” Her eyes shone with worry as she awaited True’s answer.

  “I’m sorry, Cressida. I haven’t seen anything with that description.” She deflated and True swore Cressida looked so upset, it was as if someone died.

  “I must needs call Dion.”

  “Dion? You mean Master Dionysus?” There was only one Dion True knew of and that was the Master of Practitioners, the immortal above all practitioners in Eastlake Falls. The one everyone must needs visit to get sorted out. The Master determined abilities, recorded them in a log, and notified the Regency.

  “Aye, Master Dion, Dionysus, whatever,” she huffed impatiently. Cressida was a mess, waving her hands in the air, flowing robes swishing all over the place, dozens of bracelets and necklaces clinking.

  True held up her hands and backed off whilst Cressida calmed, at least enough to contact the Master. True knew not to interfere whilst Cressida was this upset. She and Master Dionysus must needs be close, because the most powerful practitioner in Eastlake Falls entered the shop seconds later. As a rule, practitioners can’t dematerialize, but the Master is something else altogether. As she heard it, Dionysus didn’t dematerialize, he transported. Or teleported. One of those. True wasn’t sure of the difference, except the first is natural to angels, saints, and daemons, whilst the others could only be achieved with a spell. A spell either only Master Dionysus knew or had the capability of performing.

  “Cressida?” At the sound of the low voice, True gaped. The tall, handsome sorcerer she hadn’t laid eyes on since her coming of age, crossed the room and pulled her boss into his arms. Mid-hug, Master Dion’s head turned and his eyes found True. “And who is this?” He smiled and stepped back from Cressida.

  “This is True—”

  “Ah, True Harris. I recall.” She squirmed under the Master’s intense scrutiny. “I’m glad to see you are well, my dear.”

  She winced at what she assumed was a reference to her having been kidnapped by Famine. Her face grew hot. “Many thanks, Master.”

  “Dion,” Cressida said urgently, tugging on the sorcerer’s sleeve. “We mustn’t waste time.”

  “Is everything okay?” Ugh. True stiffened when Tor strode from the back room and his sharp eyes assessed the situation, then laser focused on the newcomer. “Who are you?” he barked at the Master. True winced when Tor stepped over to Master Dion and got right up in the sorcerer’s face. The face of the most powerful practitioner on the Earthly plane.

  “Tor…” True began.

  “No, no, my dear,” Dion said, still smiling. “Let the angel question me. It is his job, is it not?”

  “Dion, we really don’t have time,” Cressida begged.

  Tor scowled and Master Dion glanced from the angry angel to Cressida and back. “Fine. I am Dionysus Albericus, the Master Sorcerer of Eastlake Falls.”

  True must needs admit, Tor was good. If he was surprised at Dion’s announcement, he didn’t show it. Tor gave the Master a sharp nod and backed off, then stood at True’s side. “I am Tor Jansson, Guardian Angel.”

  “Aye, I can tell. Nice to meet you.” He turned Cressida who, by this point, was falling to pieces. “Now, what can I do for you, darling?”

  Darling? Tor and True exchanged looks. Should they leave the two of them alone? Cressida needed help finding this object, so True didn’t think she’d want them to leave. She didn’t know what to do so she ended up doing nothing, watching the practitioners converse.

  Cressida took a deep breath before speaking in a rush. “The stone, Dion, it’s gone.”

  If someone had told True there was anything in existence which was capable of rattling the imposing and powerful Master Sorcerer, she’d have laughed in his or her face. That is, until she personally witnessed his reaction to Cressida’s words. Master Dion’s body tensed and the muscles in his jaw ticked. It was subtle, but she caught the slightest widening of his eyes as well. Whatever this stone was, or did, was important, because nothing short of being able to cause mass destruction would worry both Cressida Summers and the unflappable Master Dionysus.

  “We must needs report it to the Regency, Dion,” Cressida whispered.

  “Absolutely not.” His tone was clipped, absolute. Once more, Tor and True exchanged glances. Master Dion caught it, because he turned toward them. “You must never mention this to anyone,” he instructed, his stare meeting first True’s, then Tor’s.

  They agreed, but True must needs have showed signs of freaking out, because Tor’s arm slid around her shoulders and he pulled her into his side. She was profoundly grateful for Tor’s quiet strength and decided to allow the angel to share the burden. If she tried to take it all on her own, she’d end up like Cressida, on the verge of melting down, and True was damn sick and tired of feeling helpless. She was going to hang on to her sanity by her fingertips if she must needs to, even if it meant accepting help from a pain in the butt angel who foll
owed her everywhere she went.

  FINALLY. Three hours of sitting in a meeting, listening to the managing officers give updates on each branch of Inferno, Inc. was mind-numbingly boring. Aye, it was Dante’s company and he should have been more attentive, but lately his thoughts were elsewhere. The attacks on his businesses consumed him, leaving him grouchy and on edge. Even Grady took pains to avoid Dante as of late.

  He glanced up to find the conference room empty and gave a dark chuckle.

  Fates, he was in such a shitty mood, even his officers bolted at the first chance. Normally, after a meeting, several would hang around and suck up for a good half-hour or so. Whilst he was glad he didn’t have to deal with their inane banter and brown-nosing, it disturbed him to know exactly how much the attacks on his employees were affecting his work.

  Mayhap he should take a vacation. Dante pictured Faith on a beach somewhere, no one around for miles. She would wear a string bikini, one so tiny it would—

  “Dante!” Grady’s panicked voice pierced the fantasy. He blinked to find the sitri running into the boardroom whilst shouting. Dante stood and his heart clenched with fear.

  Another attack?

  “What? Did something happen?”

  An eardrum-shattering shriek blared through the sound system and the red emergency lights on the walls began to blink.

  “Aye,” Grady said, panting. “Another attack.”

  “Where?”

  Grady pinned Dante with wide hazel eyes. “Here.”

  “Fuck!” He was out of the room and sprinting toward the elevator. Dante wanted to dematerialize, but he had no idea how many humans were present downstairs. As he smashed his thumb on the DOWN button, he realized he had no idea where to go. Dante spun on Grady, who yelped in shock as he was standing quite close. “What floor?”