Page 125 of Princess of Pride
Oh god. My head falls onto the counter. I shove my hand in his hair and hold him to me as he devours me with his tongue.My heels are on his shoulders and I’m writhing like crazy. He shoves a finger in me, his mouth now on my clit, and I come.
He waits until I catch my breath and says, “You didn’t faint. That’s a good girl.” Rising above me, he places his cock at my entrance and slides in—slow and deep.
I moan from the pleasure of being stretched and filled completely.
He holds my hips and keeps working in and out of me, taking his time, savoring the moment. His shirt hangs open, exposing a cut of sculpted chest and the edge of his tattoo. The beige fabric pulls tight over his bulging biceps. His mussed dark locks, intense gaze, and the blood on his shirt give him a savage look. It’s sexy in a way I never imagined I’d like.
“Kiss me,” I beg, needing to feel his chest against my breasts and his lips on mine.
He watches me as he eases his cock in and out. “This is mine, Emery. Mine and yours. No one else can ever have this. Every time I’m inside you, it’s a vow that I belong to you. That I will destroy anyone who dares to take you away. That I will protect you with my dying breath.”
His words, vow, and the measured way he’s fucking me are too much.
“Please, Lachlan.” I reach for him again.
“Tell me only I can have you.” In… out. Sopping. In… out.
My body pulses with pleasure. “Only you can have me.”
“Because you’re mine?”
“Yes.” Pressure builds low in my belly again.
“Tell me you love me. And mean it.”
His gaze locks on mine.
Saying it means giving up the last hold I have on my heart. Saying it means it’s unequivocally his. It makes everything between us real.
“I want to hear you say it, Emery.” He pumps a little faster as if my resistance is getting to him.
“Kiss me, and I’ll tell you.”
His nostrils flare, but amusement flashes in his eyes. “So demanding.”
I almost laugh. I reach for him again. He lowers and finally, his lips meet mine. I shove my fingers into his hair as his tongue invades my mouth. His hips pump faster, and my body prepares for another orgasm.
“Oh god!” I moan.
“Oh Lachlan.” He pins my hands on the counter near my head, his gaze burning into mine. “I’m who you call out to.”
It’s at that moment that I know this man is it for me. No one else could ever challenge me the way he does. Push me to my limits, force me to stand up for myself and take what I want. No one else devotes themselves to me the way he does. He even agreed to everything I wanted. Easily. As if he’d already committed to it because he had.
I stare into his penetrating eyes as he pumps in and out of me. “I love you, Lachlan MacReid Ashford. My lord. My savior. I’ll love you until the day I die.”
Reverence and light flood his aqua blues in a way I’ve never seen. “You think I’d let death take you away from me?”
He thrusts harder, faster, his hands pinning mine to the counter. Our eyes stay connected with an understanding that we know each other’s weaknesses, fears, desires, secrets, insecurities, and we’re staying regardless. We’ll figure out our relationship through arguing, sex, and eventually compromise with thoughtful gestures thrown in the mix.
Love isn’t a specific plotline that everyone follows. It can be messy, challenging, frustrating, pleasurable, and as unique as the two people involved. It can grow and change. It can come from nothing, even from hate. It’s the acceptance of anotherperson’s flaws and the willingness to cherish that person anyway.
I found that in Lachlan. I found my match when I didn’t think one existed. When I didn’t think he was capable of anything more than driving me crazy. And I wouldn’t trade him for anything.
30
THIS IS A SAFE SPACE
Lachlan sits on the couch in his study while one of his doctors stitches up the bullet wound. It’s deeper than he led me to believe. I hold his other hand as I sit beside him. He hasn’t winced or even paid attention to the surgeon as the man sews up his arm, even though he refused to let the doctor numb the gash first. He’s too busy scalding Tessa.
