“Not yet.” Silver absentmindedly rubs his bruised knuckles. “In between all the brawling, there weren’t many words being exchanged.”
I reach out and take his hand, stilling his restless movements. “Silver, you have to call an emergency club meeting. Brief all the men who haven’t turned coat about what’s going on. My uncle and brother have been siding with Tom. But… but they’d never turn on the Kings if they knew what he was reallyup to. If Tom’s defected from the club, everybody needs to know about it.”
Not for the first time, it dawns on me how exhausting it must be to be a man like Silver. As he sits by me on the couch, it’s obvious he’s exhausted. His good eye is glassy with fatigue while the other is swollen and bruised. His posture and ragged breaths tell me he needs to relax and take it easy.
He’s worn the crown for so long. But he still stares at me like he cherishes my input. Even when most men would probably dismiss me.
“Yeah,” he admits with another deep breath. “I know.”
“First thing tomorrow,” I say firmly. “You regroup. You make plans. You take back your club.”
Silver leans forward and drops a kiss on my lips as his response. This one is softer and tender. His hand cups my cheek like I’m his most valuable possession.
I certainly feel like I am.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against my mouth.
A frown comes to my face. “For what?”
“For ruining your birthday.” He pulls back, guilt shadowing his features. “I never planned for it to be complicated by club bullshit. You deserved better than walking into that mess.”
“Silver…” I whisper, softening as I peer at him.
This gruff and battle-worn man is apologizing because my birthday party got interrupted by a brawl he never would’ve wanted to take place in the first place. Because he thinks I deserved an evening better than the chaos that follows him everywhere.
I nuzzle my nose against his affectionately. “It doesn’t matter. I never cared about my stupid birthday. I care more about you.”
“But I care about it. Which means I’m gonna spoil you in other ways.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to even ask what he means. He scoops me up in his strong arms and lays me flush against the couch cushions. I yelp in surprise, but the sound dissolves into a breathy laugh as he settles between my thighs, his eyes dark with intent.
“Silver, what are you?—”
“Shhhh.” His hands slide up my legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. “Let me take care of you, baby.”
He drags the thin fabric down my hips, tossing it aside. Then he pries my thighs apart, settling himself between them. His breath is warm against my most sensitive skin, earning shivers of anticipation out of me.
When his mouth finally meets my pussy, I stop thinking altogether.
Silver works me over with his skillful tongue, swirling it in motions that get me off just right. He knows exactly what I like—the pressure, the motion, the licks and flicks.
His fingers join his mouth, sliding inside me and pushing me closer to orgasm.
He’s relentless. Ungodly. Every flick of his tongue, every stroke of his fingers, takes me higher ’til I’m gasping and then coming. I cry out his name as pleasure crashes through me at full force.
He laps away as if my juices are his reward. Knowing how obsessive he is as far as I’m concerned, I’d believe it if he said it.
He lifts his head when it’s over, his gaze smug and lips gleaming with evidence of me.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
The next morning feels different.
I lay in bed beside Silver, watching the pale winter light creep through the curtains and listening to the birds chirp from the trees outside his house.
I’m officially twenty-one now, but it’s more than that. It feels like we’re entering a whole new phase in this conflict against Tom and everything else that’s been going on. As if the ground has shifted under us and nothing will ever be the same again.
I can sense it in my heart.
