Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 490

I closed my eyes and put Blaze's face where it had no business being. I imagined those dark eyes on me, that sharp jaw between my thighs, that deep voice telling me exactly what he was going to do to me. I switched the wand on, pressed it to my clit, and the vibration shot through me like lightning. My back arched off the bed and a moan tore out of me before I could stop it. I slid the silicone cock into my pussy slowly, inch by inch, and it was good, so good, but it was not him. It was not his hands or his heat or his weight.

"Blaze," I gasped, fucking myself with his face in my mind. "Blaze, please..."

I came once on Emerson's bed calling out a name that was not his, and when I finally collapsed, trembling and slick, I still felt empty. Toys were nothing like a man. They were a bandage on a wound that needed surgery.

I cleaned myself up, put everything back where I had found it, and crept out of the room. But the emptiness did not go away.

The next day was worse. The more pills I took, the stronger my desires burned, and the more I felt like a caged animal pacing a beautiful prison. By evening I was nearly climbing out of my skin. I called Cara, ready to beg.

"I am dying of boredom." I flopped onto my bed. "And of something else, but mostly boredom."

She laughed. "Then come out. Just for a little while. We will go to The Club, have some drinks, dance until our feet hurt, and then I will take you straight home. No men, no trouble. Just fun. You need this, Seraphine."

I hesitated. The voice in my head screamed at me to stay. But the pills in my blood screamed louder, and the thought of another night alone in that house, with nothing but my own hands and a wand that did not even belong to me, was unbearable.

I felt alive for the first time in days. The pills had made me happy, but this, the noise and the heat and the chaos, this made me feel like myself again.

Cara found us a table and ordered drinks, and we talked. Or rather, she talked and I listened. I could not share anything real about my life, so I nodded and laughed while she told me stories about the island, the men she had broken, the fortunes she had watched change hands in a single night. She was easy to listen to, and I let her believe I was just another rich girl playing hooky from a dull husband.

By the time we hit the dance floor I was loose and glowing. The music moved through me, and for a few songs I forgot about Emerson and contracts and fifty billion cheques. I just danced, hips rolling against the beat, eyes half closed.

Then I saw him.