Page 145 of Morally Black Betrothal
I wondered if he felt the same way.
If he sensed the feeling that we had both found ports in a storm of our own making.
He stroked my hair and ran one of those large, capable hands up and down my back until my eyelids fluttered closed. And I drifted into nameless dreams and wondered no more.
33
EVERYTHING JUST CHANGED, DIDN’T IT?
Simone
The world was dipped in gold.
The blinds were still drawn, but golden rays of early morning snuck through as I awoke in the wide expanse of Brendan’s bed, a promise of a beautiful day, though the night we’d shared together, dreams mixed with more of Brendan’s particular talents, seemed just as gorgeous.
I was sore, and not just with the obvious parts that hadn’t seen that much action in years. Or, you know, ever. Last night I’d used muscles I didn’t know I had while the moon stood guard, the only witness to Brendan’s insatiable drive.
Well, not only Brendan’s.
It was a bit alarming to have that kind of pent-up hunger after only a few weeks of knowing each other.
One more, Brendan had demanded from me again and again as he made my body respond to his hands, his mouth, his cock…
One more, I’d answered with every lift of my hips, every arch of my back.
I rolled over to reach for the man himself, ready to initiate round, what, four? Five?
But there was nothing but a rumpled pillow.
“Brendan?” I sat up and looked around the suite.
I was alone.
What do you expect, breakfast in bed and a declaration of love?
Of course not. It was supposed to be a break in the contract, not a permanent relationship. We had allowed each other one night, and now the sun was out.
There was no reason to be disappointed. None. I needed to stop it. Right now.
And yet, my imagination kept right on rolling like bloopers after a film had finished. In another world, I’d take out a tray of sourdough cinnamon rolls from the freezer or make him French toast with this week’s bread. We’d sip coffee and offer each other bites from our own forks. I’d kiss a stray drop of syrup from the corner of his mouth before we washed up together, and then he would chase me back to bed for a second round of last night’s reverie.
I really needed to stop watching Nancy Meyers movies.
Silly girl, stop. That dream is not for you.
Especially when The Black Prince had told me himself that those dreams weren’t possible. Not with him.
I flopped back onto my pillow and scrubbed my hands over my face. At some point, he was going to come back in here, and I was going to have to face him. And say…what, exactly?
So, Brendan, about that mind-blowing sex last night?
Oh, we’re supposed to pretend it never happened?
Cool, cool, yeah, I can do that. Totally.
Except that I’m half in love with you already. Or at the very least, with your hips doing that thing that makes it feel like your penis is curved in exactly the right way to?—
“Uggggh!” I flopped over and screamed into my pillow.
