Page 114 of Hymns of the Broken
“I’m glad,” she says.
“Anyway,” I grin, hand slipping under the blankets, right back to where I left off, “you want breakfast… or round two?”
She squeaks, slaps at my chest—but she’s laughing, eyes shining bright.
God, I hope Jasper’s still asleep.
Because I’m not done staking my claim.
SAWYER
The smell of bacon hits me before we even make it to the kitchen—crispy, greasy, and borderline magical after last night. I’m still warm all over, a little sore, and way too aware of Riot’s fingers laced through mine like he’s daring someone to try to pull us apart.
I don’t think he slept at all. I wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed up staring at me all night.
As we pass through the back hallway, I catch a glimpse of Silas, Ash, and Jace already outside by the pool, lounging shirtless around the long table. Plates full of breakfast, sunglasses on, bare feet propped up like it’s just another day in paradise.
Macee’s out there too, sipping iced coffee like a queen, laughing at something Ash says. She throws a little wave when she sees me through the glass, but before I can even reach the back door, Riot tugs on my hand and spins me, pulling me flush against the kitchen counter.
“Riot,” I whisper, glancing toward the windows.
He doesn’t care. His palm flattens against the small of my back, the other gripping my hip as he leans in close, voice husky and full of heat.
“I’m not holding back in front of anybody. Not anymore. I want you, and I won’t hide it.”
My heart stutters, and I know he means it. Every word.
“I want you too.” I lean in to kiss him, soft at first… then deeper, like he’s the only thing that matters and I don’t care who’s watching either.
“Wow,” comes a rough voice from the doorway. “You two look awfully cheerful this morning.”
I pull away, breath caught somewhere between guilt and thrill.
Jasper stands there, arms crossed, dark eyes flicking from me to Riot. There’s a hint of amusement in his smirk, but he also looks on the edge of murder.
Riot just grins like he’s been waiting for this.
“We are,” he says casually. “Slept like a baby.”
“I bet you did,” Jasper mutters, stepping further into the room. His hand brushes my lower back when he gets close enough. “You coming to eat, Trouble? Or do I need to take my breakfast up against this counter?”
Riot doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just keeps his hands where they are—one on my waist, the other brushing my wrist like he owns it.
His eyes cut to Jasper with a spark of challenge.
“You eat her for breakfast, Reign, you’ll be eating me too.”
Jasper’s smirk doesn’t falter, but he rolls his eyes. “Well, I figured,” he says, dark amusement simmering under the surface. “Pretty sure the whole house heard her scream your name last night.”
He steps up behind me—opposite Riot—his chest brushing my shoulder as his hand trails down my side then dips lower, fingertips grazing my ankle.
I stiffen, breath caught in my throat.
Then, with a patience that feels like torture, Jasper drags his hand up the inside of my calf, the scrape of his calloused fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. My pulse hammers as he keeps going until his palm finds the curve at the top of my thigh. Right where the ghost of his touch from last night still lingers like a brand.
“Jasper…” My voice is a whisper, barely there. A warning. A plea. I don’t even know.
His mouth dips to my ear, lips grazing the shell.
