Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 144840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I use my other hand to wrap up her tiny body and carefully lay back, her chest coming down flat with mine.
There’s a bit of a sting, but I don’t care.
I thrust up into her, pinching into her ass with my free fingers and gently moving the one inside her around.
She goes crazy.
She’s panting, flying up and down on my dick and I meet her, slapping back harder and harder, and then she screams, loud and long and right in my ear.
It hums inside me, through every nerve and I come with her.
Inside her.
Where every piece of me already lives.
Her body goes limp over me, and she chuckles into my skin, biting and batting at me.
“Oh my god.”
“Oh your Royce.”
She laughs, her chin planting on my pec.
I move the hair stuck to her forehead and she smiles.
“That was—”
“Exactly why my family planned a three-day trip, miles and miles the fuck away, the second the doc cleared us.”
She laughs, and then tips her head with a shy little look in her eyes. “You mean we can’t be free like this all the time?”
My muscles lock and I tug back to see her fully.
All the time.
All the fucking time?
Oh, fuck me, baby. Yes.
I’d already planned it, thought it, but hadn’t mentioned it yet. I don’t want to push her. For once, I wasn’t going to demand but roll with it, it had to be that way after what we just went through—not only did I die for her, but she wanted to die if she lost me.
That’s not normal, that’s some powerful, admittedly fucked-up shit.
But it’s our fucked-up shit.
And we ain’t normal.
We’re Brayshaw.
Me and my baby.
“What?” she teases. “You thought I was gonna wait for you to ask?” She draws circles on my chest. “Maybell already packed my things, Playboy. They’re on the porch by now. I’m here today and have no plans to leave tomorrow.” She slides up my chest, her nipples hardening and tickling along my skin. “You’re stuck with me, but I’m gonna need a guarantee of a lot more of that or I might change my—”
She yelps, cutting off mid-sentence when I tickle her sides.
“Trust me, Tink. There’ll be so much more.” I kiss her lips, gliding mine across them. “Even if I have to buy you a muzzle.”
She laughs loudly, her forehead falling to mine.
For the millionth time today, she sighs, and it’s the very reason my heart beats strong.
“I love you, Brielle Bishop. More than the stars love the darkness, and you love me, too.”
“More than you’ll ever know,” she whispers. “I could lose my sight overnight, and I’d still have more than I could ever ask for in you.”
If bones break from the depth of words spoken, mine would be in pieces beneath her.
My fucking queen.
I said I never wanted to be a king, and I meant it, but fuck me if I don’t feel like one now.
“You are in my eyes,” she breathes, and my features tighten. Slowly she starts grinding her sweet spot over me. “You’re the one and only, all-ruling, all-consuming, king in mine. Of mine.”
“Damn fuckin’ straight.” I rasp, growl, and groan. And then I flip her on her back, slide inside and hold there.
She gasps, smiles, and tugs my lips to hers.
My fucking girl.
Mine.
“Close your eyes, baby girl,” I whisper a gentle command. “Let me show you how touch is a fuck-ton more powerful than sight could ever be.”
Her moan purrs through my veins, stealing my sanity as I’m about to steal hers.
It’s almost noon when we finally make it from the shower and down the stairs.
We’re naked and starved, and normally, there would be some fresh cut fruit left from Zoey’s snack or leftover whatever Cap whipped up for breakfast, but there’s nothing quick to grab.
I look around and realize how quiet the house is with everyone gone.
I catch Brielle staring at me, and she gives a soft smile before glancing at the clock.
“Wanna go to the store?” I say and she slides closer, wrapping her arms around me, and my fingers glide into her hair. “We’ll hit a drive-through, and then grab something to cook for tonight’s FaceTime dinner with my brothers?”
She lifts her chin, so I give her what she wants, meeting her lips with mine.
“Or we could have dinner with them,” she says quietly, knowingly. “How fast can Mac get the jet-fueled?”
This girl, she gets me to the core, and she should, it’s made up of her.
I shoot up straight, my phone already in my palm. “Thirty minutes, tops.”
She laughs, tilting her head. “Go pack a bag while I grab mine from the porch?”
I grab her, kiss her, and then we kick our asses into gear.
Chapter 41
Royce
Zoey’s running straight ahead, tipping her toes in the water when we creep around the side of the beach house.
As the wave rolls up, I watch Cap move closer to her, even though the water won’t even make it to her ankles from where she stands.