“I’m not asking for state secrets.” She shakes her head. “Just things pertaining to me.”
I run my thumb over her lip, and she licks the pad before sucking it into her mouth. “And I can work with the foundation?”
“Yes. The foundation and anything else you’d like to take on for the crown as my wife.”
Bellamy pushes me back against the couch and flutters her long lashes. “There has to be some kind of out if this doesn’t work.” She runs her hands along my quads, and I groan. “I’m not sure if we can build a successful marriage on great sex alone.”
I shift in my seat, my pants growing uncomfortably tight against my thickening cock. “I’m fairly certain many kings before me built theirs on less, love.”
“We’ll see. But that’s not an answer.”
Quite the shrewd little negotiator. Why is that sexy as hell?
“Six months,” I growl and lift my ass as she tugs my pants and boxer briefs down my thighs. “The coronation will be in six months. We’ll announce our marriage and play the part of the doting, devoted couple leading up to it. The world will have to think we’re madly in love for this to work. But if at the end of the six months, you want nothing to do with me, you can go back to America before the coronation as my wife but not my queen. I’ll send you back with around-the-clock security and do the best I can to keep you safe. But I can’t give you a divorce.”
She freezes, an uncertain hesitation in those beautiful caramel eyes. “Really?”
“It wouldn’t be easy, but I want you to be happy here. I want to give you everything. Give this a chance. Give us a chance, and if you aren’t happy, you can have your out. We’ll figure out exactly what that looks like if we have to.”
“Thank you” falls quietly from her lips. “I appreciate it.”
I groan as she slides her hand down my shaft, sending a chill down my spine. “Are you going to show me just how much, little bee?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” she smiles seductively. But when she looks up at me through those long, dark lashes, any smart remark I may have had dies.
“Bellamy...” I groan and gather her soft hair in my hand and wrap it around my fist, fighting my own willpower to stay stillwhen my mind screams to claim her. To fuck her senseless until any thought of leaving vanishes.
Slowly, she drags her tongue from the base of my cock all the way up to the tip and swirls her tongue around it.
“Even across an ocean, you’ll still be mine. . .”I growl as my blood roars in my ears.
“But will you be mine, Rhys?”
The question tears a visceral reaction from me. “You’re fucking right, I’m yours. Now show me how you kneel for your king.”
I tug her head back and nearly black out as Bellamy swallows me down her throat, her eyes never leaving mine.
She hums, and her eyes water as she works her way down the full length of my cock.
“Such a good girl,” I growl as a pretty pink flush works its way up her neck and face.
There’s no way I’m ever letting her go.
BELLAMY
It just feels... right, in the most natural way.
My hand in yours. Your lips on mine. Our lives linked.
Like it was meant to be... or maybe I need to wake up from this dream.
—Bellamy’s Secret Thoughts
Rhys and I sit at the ridiculously long dining table, a silver tray with tea and toast between us and a beautifully intricate teacup filled with delicious Italian coffee in my hand because my new husband made sure the kitchen is stocked with the best coffee I’ve ever tasted as soon as I mentioned I’m not a big fan of tea.
Truth be told, I’m pretty happy my hands aren’t shaking as I lift my cup to my lips.
Score one for me.
