Page 47 of The Shadow King's Brother

I can’t take it anymore; I need release inside her. Now.

And then I erupt, letting myself go.

“Yes—” I growl as I press deep inside her. I bury my teeth in her thigh to muffle the sound I want to make. I know it’ll leave a mark, too, but I don’t care. The other hand comes down hard, slapping her breast, then finding a nipple to twist and turn while waves run through me like a fucking broken dam.

I think I’ve died and gone to heaven in that moment. Us. Her. Here. Together. This is perfection. I don’t need anything else in life.

I pulse again, letting my cum deep inside her, making sure she feels it, feels me.

Then I let myself go limp, falling over her on the bed, impaled still, used by me. Her breath is still ragged, and so is mine.

As I finish, emptying myself inside her, I find that soft spot on her neck and kiss it slowly.

“You’re fucking mine,” I whisper against her ear, my voice rough, possessive.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” she whispers back, her breath ghosting against my skin.

I pull back, needing to see her face. “Of course, you have a choice,” I say, my heart pounding, fear coiling in my gut. Shit, does she not want this? Am I pushing too hard?

My jaw tightens, and a surge of panic runs through me. I pull back, about to give her space, and let her leave, but then she grabs my face, her hands framing my jaw, forcing me to meet her intense gaze.

“I don’t have a choice because I love you,” she says, her voice raw, honest, and bone-achingly vulnerable. “I’ve never loved so hard or so fierce.” She pauses, biting her lip, her eyes shimmering. “And it’s fucking scary.” Her gaze drops, almost embarrassed.

I relax, the tension draining from my shoulders, replaced by a wave of deep tenderness that nearly knocks me off my feet. “Don’t be scared,” I say softly, stroking her lips with my thumb. “I got you. Always.”

“Until you get tired of me—” she starts, a haunting insecurity creeping into her voice.

Where the hell does that come from? I fight to keep my voice steady. “I’m yours, Nica. You have me wrapped around your little finger,” I say. “I love everything about you. You’re strong, you’re funny, a little annoying,” I grin, “very capable, and a fuck-show in bed.”

She giggles, the sound chasing away the shadows in her eyes. Those beautiful, dark eyes meet mine, and in that moment, I see everything – her strength, her vulnerability, and the damn fire that burns between us.

“A fuck-show, huh?” she asks, the corner of her lips pulling up.

“And I got season tickets,” I say. Cupping her face in my hands, I trace her cheekbones, I let my gaze soften, pouring all my hope and dark heart into her. “I love you, Nica. Marry me.”

I have no idea why I said that, it just came out.

Her eyes widen, and the playfulness vanishes, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like shock. “What?”

Shit. But I can’t take it back. It’s too late. I don’t want to take it back.

“Fucking marry me, Nica. Make me whole. I love you with all of my fucking dark heart,” I say, laying bare my damned soul and putting it in her hands.

She distances herself slightly, her brow furrowed, her gaze searching mine. For a long, agonizing moment, I have no idea what she’s thinking or will say. But I don’t regret it. Never have, never will.

I’ve never felt so fucking exposed in my life.

“Your pants are still down, Elio!” she gasps, a shaky laugh escaping her lips, and I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding.

“So…is that a yes?” I ask, my heart pounding against my ribs, suddenly terrified of the answer.

I pull up my pants, fumbling with the zipper, as she reaches out and straightens my shirt. We sit close on the bed, the silence stretching between us. “Well?” I prompt.

She leans in, her gaze on me, and places a soft kiss on my lips. Her touch is electric, setting my veins on fire. “That’s a hell-yes,” she says.

“A fuck-yes?” I say, my voice thick with emotion as I draw her close, holding her tight against me.

“A fuck-yes it is.”

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