My breath is ragged when I come, hearing her surprised gasp as I cover her with ropes of come. I watch her slide her hand from between her legs to scoop it up and then return it to her clit, smearing my essence into herself.

I kiss her. My little monster is a dirty, dirty girl.

She does it again, and I groan, gripping her tight as I empty the last of it, and she shudders beneath me, coming again.

20

Mercedes

Judge blinks at me as if he doesn't understand how the hell that just happened. It makes two of us. His warm body is still pressing down onto mine. I’m covered in his come, and I’m still soaked with the evidence of my body’s betrayal. The want I shouldn’t have felt for him.

It was intense. It was… all-consuming. And now, it just feels confusing. But when he rolls over and collapses beside me, I feel the loss of his warmth immediately. I hate that I miss it, but even worse, I hate that I allowed him to touch me in the first place. Because now that it's all catching up to me, I realize how stupid it was for me to give in. I can’t pretend I’ve forgotten everything I know about him. I refuse to be another Society woman who turns a blind eye to what’s happening right under her nose.

"So how does this work, exactly?" My voice is dripping with the bitterness I can't hide. "You take the edge off with me and then call up your courtesan later tonight?"

Judge glances over at me, his brow furrowed as if I'm being ridiculous, and it only serves to irritate me even more.

"Don't expect to have us on a rotating schedule," I snap at him. "Because that's not going to happen."

He leans up on one elbow to examine me. "You know, your jealousy might be cute if I even knew where the hell it was coming from, little monster."

"I'm not jealous." I glare back at him. "It's called respect. I'm not going to be your side piece."

He chuckles softly then, shaking his head. "I'd have to have a main piece for you to be my side piece, Mercedes."

"Don't treat me as if I'm stupid." I grab the covers to pull them over myself as I sit up. "I know what you do at night. The staff talks. If you think discretion is a thing, you’re seriously deluded."

Irritation flickers across his features. "What do you mean the staff talks?"

"Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?"

"That would be helpful, yes."

"Miriam," I bark. "She told me all about your nighttime proclivities. That's who you were on the phone with the other day, isn't it? Making plans for your nights while you spend your days torturing me?"