Sin & Surrender (Demigod of San Francisco #6)(50)

He pulled out and thrust into her again, desperate to be closer, falling into the push and pull of her body. The bed beat against the wall. His cock pounded into her.

“Yes. Oh yes. Yes, Kieran,” she exalted, wild now, clutching at his flesh with her nails, squeezing his middle with her thighs.

Control fled. Love throbbed. He pushed harder, needing more of her. Needing to go higher. The Line throbbed to life in the room, her magic searing across him and driving sensation to unbelievable heights. He reciprocated, burning her with his mark, something only a Demigod could do. His Selkie magic pounded in time with his body. Pleasure beat within their frantic movements.

An orgasm crashed into him, dragging him under. She cried out and shook beneath him.

“I love you,” he said against her lips, tension easing from deep within him. They’d proven today that their team was more than qualified to protect her. There wasn’t a living person who could come between them.





14





Alexis





“You ready?” Bria asked as she ducked into the room.

I stood at the island in an empty kitchen with the golden summons on the table next to my nearly empty mug of coffee. It had come yesterday evening after dinner. It had ensured talk of strategy ceased—all of us worrying about what was on the line—and that I didn’t sleep a wink.

“I guess. How do I look?”

Bria squinted at my face before glancing over my formfitting pale pink dress. Daisy had said the color would soften me and make me look more feminine. People were slower to think girly-girls were incredibly dangerous, I guess. It was worth a shot, though I doubted people would forget what I could do. The guy who’d freaked out in the open courtyard battle hadn’t recovered—his mind had been too messed up by the combined power of my magic and Dylan’s. I’d suspected that would happen, but it still sucked. The end result had widened a few eyes. At least I’d prevented Zander’s guy from chasing the white light—which, of course, wasn’t actually white, but more of an ultraviolet bruise color.

“Good, though that outfit enhances the mark. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, given you are on trial for the thing.”

“Daisy said it’s a good thing because it shows I’m not trying to hide it. The opposite, in fact.”

The corners of Bria’s lips turned downward, and after a moment, she nodded. “Kid’s got a point. Come on, it’s time to go. Kieran is waiting out near the limos. He called them in for this.”

This being the trial that would decide my future in the magical world. Despite everything, I was still worried someone would find a way to take me away from Kieran.

“It’s going to be fine.” Bria patted my shoulder. “It really is. I’m more concerned with what happens after you’re declared legit. People aren’t used to your type of shenanigans.”

I gave her a flat look, grabbed a cute little handbag that had certainly cost way too much, and headed out to meet Kieran and his people at the limos. They’d all be coming for this, standing guard outside the Summit’s equivalent of a courtroom, ready to step in if things went sideways. According to Amber, only two types of teams would be prowling the halls today—those who wished to regain lost status and graduates from the garden. Everyone else would be resting.

Kieran had enjoyed some great benefits of status yesterday, but today, he was ready to fight the very people who’d given him a hand up, if need be. When it came to me, he didn’t care about bureaucracy.

Warmth filled my chest.

“Ready?” he asked when I met him at the lead limo, his hair styled, his suit perfect, and his bearing and confidence mouth-watering.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded and slipped into the limo. He climbed in after me, and the driver shut the door, closing just the two of us inside. The kids weren’t needed for this, and I didn’t want to worry about them getting caught up in the melee if things went south. They were staying home.

“What kind of questions should I be expecting?” I asked as we got underway. I kind of wished we’d taken the golf carts—they moved slower.

He stroked my hand comfortingly with his thumb. “I’m not sure. It might depend on my answers. I’ll get called in first and questioned independently of you. I will answer truthfully and honestly. I have nothing to hide. You’ll be called in next, on your own. Just stick with the truth and everything will be fine.”

Easier said than done. I wasn’t used to being interrogated. I’d probably go on the defensive without meaning to, and it would make me seem guilty.

But I kept my reservations to myself and held my head high as we entered the Summit building and made our way to the correct room.

Rows of bench seating, almost like church pews, lined the pathway to large, ornate double doors. Carvings of gods peered down at us from the wood. Guards stood to either side of the doorway, their suits pressed and devoid of wrinkles or lint, their hands clasped in front of them.

A broad-shouldered man with short legs met Kieran halfway to the double doors. A wire led from his earpiece to somewhere behind his neck.

“They are ready for you now, sir,” the man said, motioning Kieran on.

Kieran checked his watch. We were fifteen minutes early. He nodded anyway and squeezed my hand.