Page 72 of Reveal Me
She raises her hands, resting her palms on my chest. The contact feels good. Too good. ‘I’ve a good mind to bend you over this couch right now and show Finegan fucking Montgomery who you belong too.’ I slide a hand over her breast,then her hip, and over her dress until I find the hem. My hand is beneath it before I can stop myself. She’s wearing stockings and suspenders. A growl sounds from the back of my throat.
‘Are you wet for me, Princess?’ I stroke up the inside of her thigh while she stares over my shoulder at the door. Like I said, part of me is almost hoping we get caught.
‘Always,’ she pants.
‘Always, sir.’ I remind her.
The door opens, and I yank my hand back and turn my back to the princess and pretend to be admiring the artwork.
‘I didn’t know you were an art fan,’ Finegan drawls deeply.
‘I have an extensive collection. The princess will tell you; she was rather taken with it when she visited.’ My mouth is running away with me, but I can’t help it. I glance at Layla to see if I’ve said too much, but she doesn’t seem concerned. Is it possible she’s as sick of sneaking around as I am?
Finegan scowls. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Princess, but I need to go.’
Well, I, for one, am not sorry. Not one fucking bit.
‘I trust everything is okay?’ Layla says, glancing at the phone in his hand.
‘Bit of a family emergency.’
Yeah, his mother probably needs fucking.
It’s actually hilarious that my brothers regard me as the polite one. If they had any idea what went through my head, they’d realise I’m just as dark as the rest of them. Maybe even darker. I simply hide it better. Except from her. She sees my broken and she still calls it beautiful.
‘Perhaps we can continue this another time?’ He stares intently at the princess like a fucking puppy.
No, you cannot continue this another time you desperate prick.
Layla flashes Finegan an award-winning smile. ‘That would be nice.’
Nice. Pah. Who wants nice when you can have naughty, dirty, depraved and primal?
Finegan’s focus shifts to me, his eyes narrowing. ‘Beckett.’ He nods a wary goodbye as he strides towards the door, like he resents the fact he has to leave me alone with her. Good. I can’t go on like this.
Maybe Finegan’s visit isn’t an entire disaster.
It’s forcing forward the one conversation we’ve been avoiding–the future–and if we have one.
Chapter Thirty-Two
LAYLA
Finegan’s barely closed the door when Sean reaches for my hands. His cologne wafts through the air, rich and darkly enticing, just like him.
‘I hate you spending time with other men,’ he admits, dragging his fingers over his scalp.
‘I know, believe me, I know, but the Queen is threatening to bring me home with immediate effect unless there’s something worth staying here for.’
‘Does my cock not count?’ He teases, but there’s a hint of helplessness in his tone.
‘Did your cock gain a title since the last time I saw it?’ I press my palms over his chest, feeling the solid slabs of muscle beneath. We can joke about it all we want, but the truth is far from funny.
‘Yes. Lord I’m Going To Fuck You So Hard You Won’t Be Able To Walk For A Week.’ He presses a tender kiss to my lips.
‘I’m not sure the Queen will approve of that one.’ I take a step back to put some distance between us before I do something stupid like throw myself at him, right here, right now. ‘Don’t give me those come to bed eyes right now. Anyone could walk in.’
‘Maybe we should let them.’ He murmurs, closing the distance between us again. Black eyes blaze with a heat that mirrors my own. ‘Maybe it’s time we tell the whole world we’re a couple.’
