Page 77 of Burn for Me

The city lights dim to only streetlights, and a bright beam shines above the trees in the distance.

I suck in a deep breath as I feel my abdomen tightening, and I push against the wheel, willing myself to stay quiet as my climax quickly approaches. All noise around me feels muted, and my mind is calm, as it always is when she’s touching or talking to me.

I quickly yank her hand to cup over my tip, making sure she catches every fucking drop. My teeth dig into my flesh hard enough that I start to taste copper, and I raise my foot off the gas, knowing I’d slam into it right now if I could.

“Fuck…” I whisper after a moment of slow panting, and I shiver in overstimulation as she tries to pull away, but I wrap my hand around her wrist, refusing to let her.

“What’s wrong?”

How long has Caspian been talking? I look at Jasmine as she stares at her palm with a deep blush.

“Nothing.” I clear my throat, “I spilled my drink. Will you clean it up for me, Darlin’?”

Her eyes narrow behind her mask, lips pulling into a tight line. I’ve coated her throat. This isn’t any different. Slowly I pull through two large metal gates, thankful we don’t have to deal with that valet shit here, and park in the furthest parking spot I can find.

“We will try to stay quiet. Let’s get this over fast, but not too fast.”Caspian murmurs in his authoritative voice.

Jasmine finally caves in and drags her tongue up her palm and then over again, putting on a hell of a show that I'm sure will forever be engraved into my memory. Damn it, if she keeps doing that, I’m going to have another problem to deal with. Once she’s done, I smear what’s left over on the corner of her mouth along her lips, breaking into a full-blown smile at the shine.

“Asshole.”

“Wait, who said that?”Sharkie gasps, and I smile wider, pulling my mask back into place.

My wife did.

Twenty-Five

9-3-2024

I swear, this man and his damn whiskey is going to be the death of me.

-Jasmine

I can’t believe I just openly cursed like that. It wassounladylike, but I’m not much of a lady around Sam anyway. My blush deepens as he rounds the car and opens my door, his balaclava pulling tight around his jaw.The jerk is still grinning.Who knew he would be so amused? It’s hard to tell whether it’s because of my slip-up, because I just gave him the thrill of his life, or if he’s simply pleased that I licked my palm clean.

As I flick my tongue out to wipe away the remnants, he quickly grasps my jaw, turning my body as if he’s pulling me out of the car—my seatbelt strains against my chest, holding me in place.

“Careful. You’ll wipe off the gloss.” Sam murmurs, and I scrunch my nose in disbelief.Is he serious right now?

“Showtime, baby.”Moe laughs in my ear, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. It feels like he’s been held back on this trip, so I’m glad he’s finally getting some action in the field. However, sometimes, his overly ecstatic behavior gives me a headache. I link my fingers into the crook of Sam’s elbow, drawing his attention to the movement. The black diamond ring sitting delicately on my finger shimmers under the yellow lights, illuminating the front of a large, extravagant mansion and casting a sparkling reflection onto Sam's chest.

“We don’t want any bodies tonight, Sam. Nice and easy.”Caspian comes over, and Sam clasps his hand over mine as if needing to know I'm right here. I focus on the spot where we're connected. His band reflects the light, and the little red diamonds emit a dull shine.

One word keeps echoing in my mind, and I've never been so drawn to an idea:

Mine.

He has made it clear that he accepts me, flaws and all. He has forgiven me much quicker than I’ll ever be able to forgive myself. He has shown me what it’s like to be chosen above everything else.

My head tilts, and our eyes meet, but his aren’t crinkled as if he's smiling beneath the fabric. They’re the same as always—strenuous, cold, almost empty. Yet, when he flexes his hand over mine and starts walking, I'm reminded that the man onlyI’mallowed to see is still in there.

My heart rate picks up as we approach two large white wooden doors. They’re taller than I remember, and the silver skulls embedded in the middle make my stomach churn.

The Omertà Club.

I attended parties as a child, but all I can recall is being absolutely terrified of the people there. It wasn't just the sons of the influential figures; the leaders were always present, too.

Oh God, I'm going to be sick.

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