He disappeared momentarily to grab a towel, wiped my belly down, and then collapsed to the side of me. I moved over into his arms, falling into a quiet snuggle. That doubting voice returned, but knowing it was too late to change anything—and believing now that it didn’t matter anyway—the voice quickly subsided. Adrian would not be going anywhere.
For I knew, to him, I was his queen. I felt safe, I felt cherished, and I felt truly wanted—yes, sexually and physically, but more than that.
I didn’t see how anything could get between where we were and where we could ultimately end up.
CHAPTER 21
Adrian
Holy fuck.
In keeping with the theme of being what I knew Delilah wanted versus my usual King of Diamonds mentality, I focused on her pleasure and her body. Normally, to be frank, I was a selfish lover; I had no problem giving orgasms, but it was entirely done so that when the woman got to me, I got my brains fucked out.
But in this case, with Delilah Reyes in my bed, I felt like an animal torn between two instincts at first. The instinct to dominate and control, and the instinct to be selfless. The latter won out, but I had a feeling that next time, the former would win out. This had been necessary, still enjoyable but needed for this to happen.
I was so fucking thrilled it had. Delilah was a fuck unlike anyone I’d ever had before. Maybe it was because I had focused on her and not myself. Ironic, I thought, considering what Cassius and Delilah herself had told me beforehand.
But when Delilah fell asleep in my arms—which was not that much after I had fallen into bed and let her snuggle in my arms—I began to feel strange concerns I had not expected to feel.
When was the bottom going to fall out?
The Morrils were still out there. I had never been in a spot like this emotionally, and if I were to follow in Cassius’ shoes, I was going to do something stupid sooner rather than later. Delilah still had to figure out her journalistic endeavors and how that fit in with me.
No.
That was Adrian Vale thinking. The younger brother. The one overshadowed by others.
The King of Diamonds would be fine. He’d figure shit out. I would figure shit out.
I drifted off to sleep shortly after, convinced that no matter what happened, I would be fine.
I woke up the next morning alone.
Alone?
What the fuck?
I scrambled around the bedroom, looking for any sign of Delilah.
“Delilah?”
I heard nothing in response. Seriously, what the fuck? Had I been so eager to get her, to consider the deeper possibilities, that I had failed to realize that I was the one being played?
“Delilah!”
That made no fucking sense. She had so much more to lose than I did, and she had so much more at risk if she didn’t act carefully. Why would she leave without a word in the morning?
“Delilah!”
Then I saw it.
A note was on the door leading to the outside. I read it carefully.
“I had to run, called into a meeting at work. Journalist lifestyle, unfortunately. But looking forward to seeing you soon! Call me and let’s do dinner.”
I nodded to myself. This wasn’t ideal; I’d hoped for a solid morning fuck, and I never liked the idea of something or someone else taking those closest to me away. If Delilah was to be mine, the idea of some journalistic source scooping her away was not going to fucking happen. It was understandable for the moment, but I had more money than I knew what to do with; she’d never have to work a day in her life again.
All in due time, I supposed. But still, this left me running a bit hot.
