Page 93 of The Ruthless and the Strong

“Max,” I screamed. He met my eyes before he used his teeth, and I was gone.

My back arched off the bed as I tried to ride out the feeling of falling. Max crawled his way up my body and kissed me.

I could feel my limbs trembling, and I wasn’t capable of doing anything more than lie there and let him do with me as he wished.

I could taste myself on him.

It didn’t disgust me as I thought it would. Instead, it turned me on. I hummed against his lips, before he pulled back. Not looking away from me, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a condom. I watched him tear the package with his teeth before he covered himself with it, and in one smooth move, he entered me to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he said. “Every time with you feels like heaven.”

He fucked me hard then. I moved my hands up to the headboard, clenching my fists around it as he pounded inside me, bracing myself for each powerful thrust that moved the bed.

We didn’t say anything.

We let our bodies do the talking. I let him see the love I had for him with my eyes, even if I hadn’t said I loved him back to him when he said it to me.

I let him know that I never forgot about him either. And that I didn’t regret my life. Not when it brought me back here, at this exact moment with him, like this.

I couldn’t ever regret anything. Not when I got my prince at the end.

And he was that. My very own prince. The man I had only dared to dream about marrying when I was a little girl.

We came at the same time.

He leaned down and kissed me as our orgasms moved through us and I whimpered in his mouth, before opening it and letting him deepen the kiss.

Fuck.

* * *

I looked downat the Irish apple cake, moving it around with my fork. I could hear Hunter laughing with Henry in his room upstairs. My little brother was probably showing Hunter how to play a new racing game that he got.

“Is something wrong with your cake, a stór?” Dad asked.

I looked up at him, startled. We hadn’t really spoken at lunch, and a lot of it was my parents reacting to my mood. “What?”

“You hardly touched it. And it’s your favorite.” He frowned a little. “In fact, you hardly touched your lunch.”

I smiled at him but didn’t say anything, aware of my mom’s rapt attention on me. Since we had such a hard time communicating, my mom depended on my dad to get information out of me. I knew she worried, but sometimes, I wished she would just ask me herself.

I put my fork down and looked at my parents. “Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you guys about.”

I had to fight to stop the scowl from showing on my face when they grabbed onto each other’s hands and looked at me worriedly. “It’s nothing bad,” I said. “Do you guys remember Max?”

“Olivia’s guardian?” Mom asked.

“Well, he’s not really her guardian. Not anymore.” I continued when they didn’t say anything. “We’re, uh, kind of seeing each other.”

Dad frown deepened before he shared a look with Mom. “What do you mean exactly, when you say you’re seeing him?”

“You know. Like, dating.”

My parents looked at each other, and I discreetly wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. I didn’t even know why I was so nervous about telling them.

“But your divorce still hasn’t been finalized yet,” Mom said. I knew she was trying, but I could still her the slight disapproval in her voice.

Now I knew why I was so nervous about telling them.

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