Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, his forehead pressed against my shoulder.

Then he pulled out slowly.

I felt his cum drip down my thigh, warm and wet, and I turned to look at him. His eyes were satisfied, watching me with a warmth that made my chest ache.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Celeste.”

I smiled and got dressed slowly, pulling my panties back into place, feeling the dampness of flis cum against the fabric, then adjusting my dress over my hips. I fixed my hair in the rearview mirror, smoothing down the strands that had come loose, wiping the smudged lipstick from the corner of my mouth.

My reflection looked flushed. The corners of my mouth still curved up.

I felt like staying with him. I felt like climbing back into his lap and spending the whole night in this car, in his arms, pretending the world outside did not exist.

But I knew I had to leave.

I reached for the door handle.

His hand caught my wrist.

“Wait.”

He pulled me back, his hand cupping my jaw, tilting my face up to his. He kissed me thoroughly, deeply, a kiss that said everything he could not say in words. His tongue slid against mine, and I melted into it, my hand finding his chest.

When he pulled back, his eyes were steady on mine.

“Be careful,” he told me.

“You too,” I returned.

I opened the door and got out.

The night air was cool against my skin. I straightened up, adjusted my bag on my shoulder, and walked toward the front door, my heels clicking against the path, my hips swaying with the afterglow of what we had just done.

I felt spent. Satisfied. Full.

I walked to the door, opened it and stepped inside.

The first thing I saw was Seraphine.

Г

She was sitting in my living room. On my sofa, her arms crossed, her jaw set, looking like a woman who had been waiting a long time and had used every minute of it to work herself into something dangerous.

Her face was a mask of barely controlled fury.

I forced a smile.

Anger.

Genuine, hot, directed anger.

At me.

I looked at him. I looked at the red crawling up his neck and the outrage sitting in his eyes and the way he was holding himself like a man who could not decide whether to shout or stay quiet.

‘Is that anger I see on his face?’ I thought. ‘Good.’

This game was getting very interesting.

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