“I want you to come,” he tells me, but it’s too late because I’m already there. He gives my neck a squeeze, and I explode. Moaning and screaming and fisting the pillow and sheets. A low, raspy growl shreds the air, and his chest presses deeper into my back as he stills, spilling himself inside of me to the point where I already feel it dripping out and down my inner thigh, over the bite marks he left.
I collapse onto my bed, my limbs boneless, my eyes heavy, my expression no doubt goofy and sated. Because holy fuck. Holy fucking hell. That was…
I don’t move. I’m hardly breathing. I think I’m floating, lost in some alternate space.
“Bellamy, answer me.”
“Hmm?” I didn’t even hear him speak.
“Did I hurt you?” He twists me around, his fingers caressing my neck before he flips my hair away from my face to check me, worry creasing his brow. “Where did you go?”
“Somewhere else. Somewhere amazing.”
He kisses my lips as his thumb drags over my neck. “You’re marked. I knew you would be, and I meant for that, but…I also wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m sorry.” His lips press over the chafed skin of my neck. “I’m so sorry, baby. I got carried away with you. The belt cut into you.”
“I wasn’t exactly complaining. That was the hottest, most intense orgasm of my life. You sent me somewhere…”
“Yes, but your neck, my sweets.”
“How bad is it?” I murmur.
“Do you own a turtleneck?” He’s fighting a smile now and I don’t even try.
“I’m sure I can dig one up.”
His forehead falls to my temple, both of us still breathing hard as his fingers toy with my pendant. “I love you. God, how I love you. Thank you for letting me lose myself and still being here with me on the other side. I don’t deserve you or this.”
My hand comes up, finding the back of his head, and I hold him to me. “I know who you are, and you don’t scare me. Give it all to me, Sebastian. All of you. Never hold back.”
“You’ll always have all of me, Bellamy. Always.”
I smile and sigh, but I can’t stop the thought. The question that asks, how? How could we have this always? How could this turn into anything beyond the here and now? He’s a rich, powerful man. A man who rules over a nation, and I’m just a lost girl from America, barely hanging on to a life that is determined to knock me sideways.
He’s a king who has vowed never to make another woman his queen, and I’m just a nanny. No bloodlines. No connections. Nothing to offer him but myself.
How could we have this always when there are a million reasons why this will never work?
24
BELLAMY
I’ve been sitting here on the front steps of the building for what feels like hours, unable to move myself from this spot. It’s cold in Tourin now, my body frozen through, but at this point, I don’t feel much. Christmas is only a few weeks away, and there are signs of it everywhere. Wreaths and holiday lights and cheer.
It’s my favorite time of year. I’m happy. I’m in love.
But my father is struggling.
His memory and cognitive functioning seem to be declining faster and faster, medications useless against the disease. He didn’t remember me at all today. He had no clue I was his daughter. He recognizes me less and less with each time I see him. He hasn’t called me in weeks. How do I reconcile that? I lost my mother, I can’t lose my father, and yet it seems it’s happening anyway.
Or happened.
Tears roll down my face and I hate this, I hate this, I hate this. This feeling of powerlessness. I’m not a crier. I’m not a moper. But right now, I can’t help but wallow in this crushing sadness. Sebastian texted me half an hour ago and I told him Ineeded more time with my father. It was a lie. My father is asleep, something he spends more of his time doing now.
But after the morning Sebastian and I had, the realization about our situation, and now this…yeah, I needed some time.
I can’t talk about it. Not yet. If I do, I’ll break for sure, and I can’t break. I don’t break. I keep fighting. I keep going. But right now, I need a few minutes to find the strength to do that.
Another tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away, my hands and face so cold I can hardly feel them. It doesn’t typically snow in Tourin, but this is the coldest I remember it being since I moved here.
