Page 46 of Gambit
“Thanks.” Her hair falls around her shoulders, those waves I run my hands through, cherishing her more than anything I ever have. “Sometimes it’s like we’re juggling grenades and textbooks at the same time.”
“Welcome to our life.”
“Wouldn’t trade it,” she admits.
“Me either.” This life, scars and all, it’s ours. We forged it with fire, blood, and a grip on the future we want.
“Let’s make tonight about us, then. No talk of war or dissertations.” Eliza stands and pulls me up with a strength that never ceases to amaze me.
“Sounds perfect,” I agree because whatever else is going on out there, in here, it’s just Eliza and me, and that’s everything.
She tosses her jacket onto a chair. The room seems to shift, accommodating her energy. She’s the axis around which everything rotates, at least for me.
The weight of everything we’ve been through presses on me, and I can’t hold back any longer. “Eliza, I...” I start, hesitating. The words feel like boulders in my throat. “I worry sometimes. About what could happen to you because of all of this. Because of me, us.”
She turns to me, fixing those piercing green eyes on mine. They’re sharp, yes, but right now, they’re also full of something warm. “Tarquin, look at me.” Her command is soft but undeniable. “You’ve never let me down—not once—none of you, and you’re not going to start now. I trust you—with my life, with our future. We’re tough. We’ve got this.”
Her confidence wraps around me, a shield against the darkness that always seems to be lurking. She believes in us—in me—and that belief feels like a lifeline thrown across stormy waters right now.
“Promise me,” I murmur, going to her and cupping her face.
“I promise,” she says, tilting her head back, inviting me to kiss her lips.
Our mouths crash together. There’s nothing gentle about it. This kiss is a clash, a battle of wills, and I’m all in. We’re moving in sync, and every point of contact between us is alight, stoking the embers into a roaring fire.
Her lips are insistent, demanding. Our tongues duel for dominance, a sweet agony that has us both gasping for breath, but neither of us is willing to break away first.
My hands are everywhere on her body. Each curve, each dip. She arches into my touch, driving us both wild.
“More,” she gasps against my lips, her hands clasped around my neck, pulling me closer. It’s not a request; it’s an order.
“Always,” I promise, and I mean it. With Eliza, it’s always more—more intensity, more passion, more everything, and I’m giving her all that I’ve got.
She lets me pull her tee over her head, which I drop on the floor. My fingers flick her bra open, and that falls way to reveal her gorgeous tits. She pulls away from me to kick off her boots and strip the rest of her clothes away.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” I murmur.
“Let me see you,” she whispers.
I waste no time getting rid of my clothes. Her hands trail up my inked arms and over my chest, feeling the muscles ripple under her touch. My cock bounces between us, ready for her, but the rest of my body, mysoul,wants to wait a bit. Before I can lay her down on the bed and worship her, she is on her knees, taking my cock into her mouth, her eyes fixed on mine as she goes to town. It’s a maddening kind of pleasure that courses through me, making my knees weak. Her mouth is hot, wicked good, andshe knows exactly how much pressure to apply, when to go deep, when to pull back.
“Shit, Eliza...” I groan, not caring how desperate I sound. The room is filled with the slick sounds of her working my dick over, my faint curses and the heavy breaths we both draw. I fist a hand in her hair, not to control but to feel more connected as she takes me deeper, her tongue swirling around like she’s licking a lollipop.
She pulls back, lips shiny and swollen. “I want you,” she murmurs, rising to stand before me once again.
I don’t need any more encouragement than that. I scoop her up in my arms like she weighs nothing at all and lay her across the bed. The tattoo on her back—a skull entwined with a rose—stares up at me as I trail kisses down her spine. She shivers under my lips, and the sound she makes is half-moan, half-growl.
When I reach her ass, I give it a playful slap, earning another one of those sounds that go straight to my cock. “You’re mine,” I say, the words rough and possessive.
“And you’re mine,” she retorts with all the ferocity of the Queen she is.
Flipping her over, I bury my mouth between her thighs, my tongue flicking her clit gently as I thrust two fingers inside her slick pussy.
Eliza’s breath hitches, her body reflexively arching into my mouth. She tastes like sin and salvation all at once, and I can’t get enough of her. My fingers move in rhythm with my tongue, each stroke sending shockwaves through her.
“Fuck, Tarquin... don’t stop,” she pants out, one hand gripping the sheets while the other finds its way into my hair, tugging slightly—a silent command for more. I give it to her, because that’s what we do for each other—we push past every limit until there’s nothing left but raw need.
The heat between us builds into an inferno as I feel her cunt tighten around my fingers, her climax threatening to break. I look up at Eliza; even like this—legs spread wide and chest heaving—she carries an air of regal authority that I fucking worship.
