I stand, glancing up and down the table at our family and friends who are all chatting away, love bouncing around the table in every smile and laugh.
“Sinclair,” Denver warns as I pause.
He’s right, he does know me. Because before I can call out to our guests that we’ll be back in a bit, his mouth slants over mine, muffling my words.
But I don’t care.
Because his lips are on mine, and I’m kissing him as though my life depends on it.
A cheer erupts and someone calls out about ours being the next wedding. I grin against Denver’s mouth as he mutters out, ‘Princess’, like he’s pissed.
But as I dust my lips back and forth over his, he smiles.
“Sinclair Layne, or maybe Denver Beaufort,” I muse, giggling as his dick presses against me, getting harder by the second.
“Move,” he growls, his hand sliding to the base of my spine as he marches me away from the table.
I lean into his side as we walk away to a wolf-whistle, which I bet was Jenson.
“This spoiled princess loves you.” I laugh, wrapping my arm around him.
He grunts. “I hope so. Because this Brute loves her enough to die for her?—”
“Because it used to be your job?”
He presses his lips into my hair, kissing the top of my head, as his voice softens. “Because she’s everything to me.”
My insides go all gooey, melting like butter on hot toast.
“Everything, huh? You want it all. Now, who’s spoiled?” I stop walking and turn to look at him from beneath my lashes, lust working its way through my veins and heating my blood as he lifts his hand and dusts his thumb over my lower lip, his pupils flaring as the tip dips inside my mouth and grazes my tongue.
“You saying I’m spoiled now?” He arches a brow, and I have the urge to suck on his thumb, but he moves it before I can, curling his hand around the side of my neck and gripping it in his signature way.
Strong but so gentle.
“Yeah.” I smile. “You’re a spoiled Brute now. Who knows what you’ll be demanding next.”
“Demanding?” he rasps, the depth of his tone sending a shiver of anticipation skating up my spine. “How about I demand you stop talking and kiss me?”
I flick my gaze to the table of guests behind him. We’re far enough away that they can’t hear us, but we’re still within their sights if they were to look in this direction.
“Public displays of affection growing on you? What will you be into next?” I tease.
He steps closer, his jacket brushing my nipples and making them pucker to attention beneath my dress. “The same thing I’ve always been into.” His eyes roam over my face and my breath hitches at the intensity in them. Everything around us fades into a low hum. The sound of chatter, glass clinking, the ocean waves. He breathes in slowly and exhales his next words like asoft prayer. “Sinclair Beaufort…” His eyes drink me in again, like he’s looking at me for the first time. “The woman I love with everything I am.”
Fireworks erupt low inside my stomach.I love intense romantic Denver.
“The one you’d die to protect,” I whisper, emotion catching in my throat and making me need to blink.
“The one I’d die to protect,” he says, “because she iseverythingto me.”
My lips sink into my lower lip before a goofy smile takes over my face. “Say that again.”
Denver’s gaze heats as he tilts my chin up. “Now who’s demanding?”
The first soft press of his mouth against mine is like those first rays of warm sun in spring, telling the earth that it’s time to grow things again. It’s time to bloom.
That it’ll all be okay.
