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I fucked her slow now, deliberate, each thrust a conversation, her moans soft, desperate. My fingers found her clit, circling, stroking, driving her to the edge again.
She came, a shuddering wave, her pussy pulsing, her breath hitching, and I followed, my release spilling into her, a slow burn that left me raw, hers.
We collapsed, panting, slick with sweat and come, the air thick with sex and adrenaline.
Vivi lay beside me, her body soft, sated, her breathing ragged but steady.
I traced her hip, fascinated still by the curve of her, the marks I’d left, the way she glowed even now. She turned, her eyes meeting mine, a lazy grin spreading.
“Fuck, Elias,” she murmured, voice hoarse. “That was …”
“Yeah,” I said, my own voice rough, a smile tugging at my lips. “You’re incredible.”
She laughed, low and warm, her hand resting on my chest. I pulled her closer, contentment settling in, but I had one more thing to say.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I said, voice soft, my fingers brushing her cheek.
Her grin turned wicked, her hand sliding down, wrapping around my softening cock, giving it a playful tug.
“This the surprise?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
I chuckled, catching her wrist, kissing her palm.
“Not that. How about an overnight flight? Just us, somewhere exciting. Tomorrow night.”
Her eyes widened, genuine excitement flaring.
“Hell yes,” she said, her voice bright. Then she tugged my cock again, smirking. “As long as I can bring this along for the ride.”
I laughed, pulling her into a kiss, deep and slow, the promise of tomorrow burning between us.
Jessa’s death, Department 77’s threat, the viral images—they’d wait.
Tonight, we’d won, and Vivi was mine, body and soul, ready for whatever came next.
31
VIVIENNE
The sun poured through the tall windows like it had something to prove. I blinked against it, my head nestled into the crook of Elias’s shoulder, our bodies tangled beneath black sheets.
He was already awake, fingertips tracing patterns on my bare back. We hadn’t spoken yet. We didn’t need to. His touch was its own kind of morning prayer.
For a while, I just listened—to his steady breathing, to the seagulls beyond the glass, to the quiet that didn’t feel lonely anymore.
But then his voice broke the silence, rough from sleep. “You ever been to L.A.?”
I lifted my head. “What?”
His lips quirked. “Los Angeles. Ever been?”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I always wanted to. But I figured I’d go when I had a movie to star in or a scandal to clean up.”
“Well, pack a bag,” he said. “We leave tonight.”
I blinked. “What?”
He sat up, stretching those absurdly perfect arms behind his head, like this was just a normal Tuesday. “I told you I had a surprise.”