Page 164

Story: Princes of Legacy

“Almost home,” Lex announces, and I slowly pull back.

A warmth blooms inside of me as I see my two Princes so lax and winded, their hair mussed. Glancing at Lex, we share a private smile, and by the time we go through the security checkpoint, any body part that couldn’t be shown in polite company has been put away.

The car parks in the front circle, and Wicker and Pace get out first, each slightly stumbling. Still trying to catch my breath, Lex pins me with a hard, hungry look as he yanks the tie out of his hair and says, “My turn.”

After tellinghis brothers to go pick up our son, Lex carries me up the stairs.

I laugh breathlessly when he swoops me up, my shoe falling, and I watch with amusement as it clatters down the stairs behind us. “Someone’s going to trip on that and break their neck.”

“I’ll fix them,” he says, and as soon as we reach the landing, his mouth descends on mine, hard and unrelenting.

I respond by burying my fingers into the soft, cool tresses. It’s easy to forget that Lex is a sturdy guy when he’s pouring overbooks or doing delicate, exacting medical things, but right now, it’s all I can focus on.

His chest is hard beneath my hand as he walks me back, guiding me to the bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. He tastes as sharp as his teeth, his fingers tugging erratically at my dress. “I know I can’t,” he says, panting against my lips, “but god, I want to fuck you.”

“Tell me what you can do,” I say, tugging him through the doorway.

He freezes before me in that black shirt and tie, slowly lifting a hand to his shirt collar. One by one, he loosens the buttons, the butterflies in my stomach roaring to life at the nakedwantin his stare. It’s a core-deep tug that I haven’t felt since Justice was born.

It explodes into violent flutters when his deep, silky voice asks, “You want me to make you feel good, baby?”

Swallowing, I admit, “Yes.”

“Turn around,” he tells me, voice gruff.

I turn, and his fingers move quickly, dragging down the zipper on my dress, pushing it over my shoulders, and letting it fall to the ground. His crotch brushes against my backside and I feel the hard steel pressing against his pants.

Sweeping my hair to the side, he kisses my neck, moving down my shoulder until he’s spun me around. Gently, he lifts my breasts, kissing the nipple of each one. “You’re going to let these fill up for me again,” he demands, and all I can do is nod, already feeling the ache. “Until then, you’re going to let me take care of you.”

It’s not a request, and I feel it in the way he pushes me to sit on the edge of the bed. I watch as he shucks off his shirt and pants, his amber eyes drinking me in hungrily. His cock springs upward as he drops his boxers to the floor, bobbing between his legs, fully erect, and I watch with jealousy as he strokes down thelength, wishing he could be inside me. But when I cover my soft belly with my arm, he stops.

“Don’t,” he tells me, “I want to see you.”

I remove my arm and place both hands on the mattress by my sides, mustering a confidence I don’t feel. “I know I’m not as… smooth as I used to be.”

Lex frowns, and then slowly crouches before me, palming each of my knees. “You mean these?” he asks, reaching up to brush gentle fingers against one of the worst stretch marks. At my grimace, he leans in, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Verity—baby—touch me.”

Confused, I extend a hand to stroke the cut of his jaw, but he sighs, grabbing my wrist and directing it to his shoulder, and then back…

I suck in a breath, feeling his raised scars.

“Are they ugly?” he asks, a thread of misery in his voice. Before I can answer, he says, “They should be. They aren’t like yours. They aren’t there because I created life. They’re just sour memories.”

At once, I’m reminded of the words he spoke to my mother, hours earlier.

“They’re more than bad memories, Lex. They’re a testament to your strength. Your love and loyalty to your brothers.” Leaning down, I press a kiss to his mouth, whispering, “I think they’re beautiful.”

His eyes flutter open, holding mine. “Then believe me when I say that’s how I feel about yours.” Ducking down, he plants a kiss on each of my knees while nudging them apart with his hands. “I know it might be too early, but can I show you?” He glances up at me through his lashes. “Can I eat your pussy?”

The words alone are enough to reignite the fire in my core. “I think I’m up to it, but,” I place my hand on the one that’spushing my thighs apart, embarrassed. “I think I’m still bleeding a little.”

He plants a kiss over my hand and then shifts it aside. “I know.”

His tender kisses become tiny licks, traveling up my thigh, and ultimately shift to these lingering, tantalizing sucks.

My head falls back and I ask, “You know?”

His voice reverberates against the soft skin of my inner thigh. “There’s nothing going on with your body that I don’t know about, Verity. Everything happening to you is part of nature. Any change in you that’s the result of carrying our son—those are a gift. The milk that you feed him with. The blood that kept him alive all those months he was in your belly. It’s part of you and him.”

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