Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“You’re sure?” he asks, his eyes heavy-lidded.
The last time we made love, anger clogged the air, and I called it a mistake when we were done. There’s no doubt in my mind right now that this is what I want.
“I’m sure.” I bring my knees up on the bench beside his legs, positioning myself, raising up over him. “Let’s see if you still fit.”
Beneath my dress, he drags my panties aside and pushes in. The air whooshes between our mouths. His hands at my hips keep me still when I start to move.
“I missed this,” he says softly and shifts to kiss my jaw. “I missed you.”
“Same,” I say, breathless from the way he fills me up, stretches me.
“Same?” He laughs and guides my hips into a rhythm. “Damn, that feels good.”
I hook my elbow at his neck and deepen the wave of my body over him, arching my back and increasing the pace. I light up like he’s flipped a switch no one else has ever found.
“It’s never like this,” I whisper, tears christening the corners of my eyes.
“It’s never like this,” he agrees, linking our fingers and pressing our hands between our chests, between my breasts. He finds my eyes in the weak illumination of moonlight. “This feeling belongs to you, Lennix.”
“Yes.” I lay my forehead against his again, thrust my fingers into his hair. “You’re mine, Maxim Cade.”
He kisses the curve of my neck and squeezes my ass. “Yours.”
“Tell your Russian princess”—I tighten my thighs at his hips and ride him harder—“and your teenage pageant queen to back the fuck off.”
His chuckle is breathless as our bodies battle, struggle to get closer, push for a deeper mating of flesh and soul.
“Only you, Nix,” he says, leaving the promise in my hair. “No one else.”
“And I’m yours,” I offer before he has to ask. “Only you, Cade.”
He stills, and I realize I used the last name that has caused us so many problems and may cause more in the future. That name in my mouth has always been a curse, but here in this convolution of hedges under a new year of stars, I make it mine. It’s my way of telling him I want, I accept every part of him. Even the last name that represents everything I hate. Even the baggage that comes with his family.
“Maxim,” I say, my thighs spread wide over him, my knees leveraged on the stone bench. “Kingsman.”
I pull back enough to show him my acceptance of the part he tried to hide—to show him that the part that came between us before won’t separate us now. “Cade.”
It seems to set something off in him, his last name on my lips while he’s buried inside me, and his hands tighten on me, the thrusts more urgent, deeper, faster. I hold on tighter, my body clamped around him possessively. He reaches between us to find the place where our bodies are joined and strokes my clit, his thumb fast and sure.
“Maxim,” I scream, my hoarse voice tearing through the privacy of our night in this maze. Wave after wave of ungovernable pleasure overwhelms me, overtakes me, until I’m quaking with it, shaking and sobbing into the warm curve of his neck.
He keeps going, every thrust more aggressive and deeper, my bare breasts grazing his shirt, the nipples peaking while he takes his own pleasure. A growl tears from him when he comes, going impossibly harder and bigger and stiffer inside me.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants, his hands like steel, his breaths harsh and fast. He groans long and rough, emptying himself inside me, a hot, wet rush of passion. I receive him, trembling with wonder at the blend of our bodies. I don’t want to move because he’ll run out of me. I want to keep him, to keep these moments and these emotions as long as I can.
He was my first. Ten years ago when we made love, I didn’t know a passion like this was rare, something to be coveted and chased and clutched, but tonight, I know it’s a comet shooting across the sky and all we can do is ride its fiery trail.
Now I know.
CHAPTER 47
LENNIX
“There’s been a slight change of plans,” Kimba says.
I study her face on my phone. It’s our third FaceTime of the day. She’s been holding it down in DC, and I’m in San Francisco, about to fly to Ohio. Owen won’t make his official presidential announcement until February, but I’m running ahead and laying tracks for our ground game in some purple states where we’ll need as much of a head start as possible.
“Change of plans?” I frown and mentally review my meetings for the next day with volunteer coordinators in Ohio. “If we’re gonna stay on track for February, we have to stick to the schedule.”