Page 18

I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to distract myself with mundane tasks.

Organizing my jewelry box, reading a few chapters of a novel I’d abandoned weeks ago, even attempting to sketch in my old pad.

But nothing holds my attention for long.

My thoughts keep drifting back to this morning, to the promise in Reign’s voice when he said he’d call tonight.

I catch myself checking my phone every few minutes, even though I know it’s still hours before evening.

There’s a part of me that wants to text him first, to reach out and maintain the connection we forged this morning.

But something holds me back. Maybe it is fear that this intensity between us is one-sided, that I’m reading more into his possessiveness than actually exists.

The hours crawl by with excruciating slowness. Dinner with Lucille is a stilted affair, her conversation focused entirely on tomorrow’s Denver itinerary. I nod and respond at appropriate intervals, but my mind is elsewhere, counting down the minutes until I hear Reign’s voice again.

By eight o’clock, I’m pacing my bedroom like a caged animal. By nine, I’m convinced he’s changed his mind. By nine-thirty, I’m questioning whether any of this morning actually happened or if I dreamed the whole thing.

Then, my phone rings.

I practically lunge for it, my heart hammering when I see his name on the screen.

“Reign,” I breathe, unable to hide the relief in my voice.

“Hey, Princess.” His deep voice sends warmth flooding through me. “Miss me?”

“Maybe a little,” I lie, settling onto my bed.

His chuckle is low and knowing. “I missed you, too, baby.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “How was your day?”

“Long. Boring. Spent most of it thinking about you in that short skirt you were wearing earlier.” His voice drops lower. “And what I wanted to do to you that I couldn’t in that diner.”

Heat pools between my thighs at his words. “Reign...”

“Tell me about your day, Princess. What did you do after you left me?”

I fill him in on Lucille’s wedding arrangements, the upcoming Denver trip, carefully working up to the news about the reunion.

“Actually, I have good news about this weekend.”

“Yeah?”

“I found the perfect cover story. My old majorette team is having a reunion at Fit Mountain Resort next weekend. I registered this afternoon.”

The satisfaction in his voice is unmistakable.

“That’s great news, baby. Now, you can disappear for the weekend without questions.”

“Exactly.” I twist the dog tags around my finger, the metal warm from my body heat. “Reign, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, Princess?”

“I really like you.” The admission tumbles out before I can stop it. “This thing between us…it feels right in a way nothing has in years. And I know that probably sounds crazy since we barely know each other, but I can’t help it.”

“It’s not crazy.” His voice turns serious. “I feel it, too.”

Relief washes over me. “Really?”

“Really. You’re mine, Audrey. I’ve known it since the first night I met you.”

“I miss you,” I whisper. “I wish you were here.”

Reign chuckles. “Open your window, Princess.”

I blink, confused. “What?”

“Open the window, Audrey.”

I set the phone down and cross to the large window that overlooks the side garden. My hands shake as I unlock the latch and push the glass up. Cool night air rushes in, carrying the scent of jasmine and?—

A shadow moves in the darkness below. Then I see him, scaling the trellis attached to the side of the house with the fluid grace of someone who’s done this before. A duffel bag is slung across his shoulder, and he moves with purpose up the ivy-covered lattice.

“Oh my gosh,” I breathe, stepping back as he reaches my window.

Reign swings one long leg over the sill, then the other, landing silently on my bedroom floor. He straightens to his full height, and suddenly my spacious room feels tiny with his massive presence filling it.

“You’re insane,” I whisper, my eyes darting toward my bedroom door. “What if someone sees you? What if security?—”

“Your security system is ancient,” he says calmly, setting his bag down. “And Lucille’s bedroom is on the other side of the house. We’re fine.”

“How do you know about our security system?”

He gives me a look that reminds me exactly what he does for a living. “Princess, I could break into Fort Knox if I wanted to. Your family estate was child’s play.”

The casual confidence in his voice sends another wave of heat through me. “Why are you here?”

His eyes darken as he steps closer. “Because I didn’t want to spend another night away from you. Because I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I need to have you again.”

My breath catches as he backs me against the wall beside my window.

“I’ve been hard for you since you left the diner this morning,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “Do you know what that does to a man? Walking around all day thinking about how tight you felt around my cock?”

His mouth crashes against mine, the kiss hungry and demanding. I melt into him, all my earlier nervousness evaporating under the heat of his touch.

“Get on the bed,” he commands against my lips.

I move toward my bed on shaking legs, hyperaware of his eyes tracking my every movement. The familiar pink and white comforter from my teenage years suddenly feels surreal—too innocent for what’s about to happen here.

Reign follows, his fingers working the buttons of his shirt. “Take off your clothes. Slowly.”

I reach for the hem of my nightgown with trembling hands, pulling it up and over my head. His sharp intake of breath when he sees I’m not wearing anything underneath sends confidence surging through me.

“Fucking beautiful,” he growls, shrugging out of his shirt. The play of muscles across his chest and shoulders in the lamplight makes my mouth go dry. “Lie down.”

I sink onto the mattress, watching as he removes the rest of his clothes with efficient movements. When he’s naked, he joins me on the bed, his weight making the mattress dip.

“I’m going to take my time with you tonight,” he says, his hands skimming up my thighs. “I’m going to learn every sound you make, every way to make you shake.”

His mouth follows the path of his hands, pressing hot kisses to my inner thighs, my hip bones, the sensitive spot just below my navel. By the time he reaches my breasts, I’m already writhing beneath him.

“Please,” I whisper, my hands tangling in his hair.

“Please what?” His tongue circles my nipple without quite touching it. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you inside me.”

He pulls back to look at me. “Not yet.” He grips my thighs and flips us over, and now I’m on top and he’s beneath me. His possessive gaze roams my body, lingering on the taut peaks of my breasts as I straddle his chest. “First, you’re going to ride my face until you come all over my tongue.”

Before I can respond, he’s lifting me, positioning me above his mouth. Then every coherent thought leaves my head as Reign tugs me down and buries his mouth between my legs.

Heat explodes through me, raw and electric. My hands fly instinctively to the headboard, searching blindly for something solid to hang onto as he devours me with brutal focus.

His tongue flicks over my clit, slow at first, then faster. He alternates between sucking and licking, never letting up, not even when the pleasure ratchets up so high I want to squirm away. When I do try, he clamps down on my hips and holds me exactly where he wants me.

All I can do is surrender.

And moan.

And beg, which is humiliating but apparently only turns him on that much more.

“Goddamn, Princess,” he growls against my core, the vibration sending shockwaves through my entire body. “You taste so fucking good. I could do this all night.”

His words push me higher, the coil of tension in my belly winding tighter with each stroke of his tongue. When he slides two fingers inside me while his mouth works my clit, I know I’m not going to last long.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against me. “Come for me, Princess. Come all over my tongue.”

I shatter with a cry that I muffle against my forearm, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over me. Reign doesn’t stop, his tongue working me through every aftershock until I’m trembling and oversensitive.

When the aftershocks finally subside, he lifts me off his face and positions me over his hips. His cock is hard and ready, the tip already slick.

“Now you’re going to ride me,” he says, his voice rough with need. “Slow at first. I want to watch your face when I fill you up.”

My heart pounds as I position myself above him, my hands braced on his chest for balance. The head of his cock nudges against my entrance, and I sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands gripping my hips. “You feel incredible.”

The stretch is intense, almost overwhelming. He’s bigger than I remember, and the angle makes me feel impossibly full. When I’m seated completely, we both freeze, adjusting to the sensation.

“Ride me, Princess,” he commands softly.

I bite my lip. “I’m not sure I know how. I’ve never done this before.”

“Rock your hips. Touch your clit. Do whatever you need to make yourself feel good.”

I start slowly, finding a rhythm that makes us both groan. His hands guide my movements, showing me exactly how he wants it. The friction is perfect, building that familiar tension low in my belly.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine. “Look at me while you fuck me.”

The intensity of his stare makes me feel exposed, vulnerable in the best way. I can see everything he’s feeling written across his face—the pleasure, the possessiveness, the raw need that matches my own.

“Faster,” he growls, his grip on my hips tightening.

I pick up the pace, chasing the building pleasure. The sound of our bodies coming together fills the quiet room, along with our ragged breathing and soft moans.

“I’m close,” I whisper, my movements becoming erratic.

“Not yet.” In one fluid motion, he flips us over, pinning me beneath him. “I want to be in control when you come.”

He drives into me with deep, measured strokes that hit exactly where I need him. The new angle sends me spiraling higher, every nerve ending on fire.

“Now,” he commands against my ear. “Come for me now.”

The combination of his voice and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts sends me over the edge. I bite down on his shoulder to muffle my cry as the orgasm tears through me, my body clenching around him.

He follows with a harsh groan, his face buried in my neck as he empties himself inside me.

“Get ready for bed,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’m staying tonight.”

“What if?—”

“I’ll be gone before dawn,” he promises. “But tonight, you sleep in my arms.”

Reign leans in and presses a quick kiss to my forehead, then nudges me toward the bathroom. He’s not just telling me what to do. He’s making the choice for both of us, and for once, I don’t mind being claimed.

I duck into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

My reflection is flushed, glowing in a way I haven’t seen in months.

As I brush my teeth, I replay every second of what just happened, from the way he climbed through my window like some kind of feral prince to the way he touched me as if I was made of glass and fire at the same time.

I’m so distracted by the memory of his hands that I nearly spill toothpaste down the front of my sleep shirt.

The house is dead silent, the estate’s endless corridors muffled and empty at this hour. I know Lucille’s sleeping pills hit her hard by nine. The housekeeper never patrols the west wing at night. But the risk of being caught with a forbidden man in my bed should terrify me. For once, it doesn’t.

When I finish washing my face, I tiptoe back into my room.

Reign has already made himself comfortable.

He’s stripped down to his boxers, his body arranged casually against my headboard, the covers folded back with military precision.

His duffel bag is nowhere in sight. He looks twice as big in the small expanse of my pink and white bedroom, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like a clash. It feels inevitable.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. I cross to the bed, climbing in like a sleepwalker. He pulls me into his side the second I’m under the covers, tucking my head beneath his jaw, one massive arm locking me in place.

“Sweet dreams, Princess,” he whispers against my temple.

For the first time in a long time, I know they will be.