“Again,” I order, playing with her clit, because I’m addicted. I need to see her cum again.
She riles. I know her body’s overstimulated, but I don’t care. I make her orgasm a second time.
She gasps for air. There’s something about it I can’t get enough of. That stupid, disoriented look on her face. Me having the power to make this woman surrender. Me seeing her this bare and real.
She unravels again.
Again.
And again.
She claws at me, barely able to breathe.
“No! Jack!”
“Say you’ll leave him.”
She balks, blindsided.
I grab her hand and rip off that horrendous ring and throw it on the floor. “You’re my bride, remember?” To make her do exactly what I want, I speak the words like the perfect fucking pastor she wants, with conviction and bravado. “She is led to the king.”
Her eyes blow wide.
I kiss her mouth, hungry and desperate. I keep going.
“A virgin to her king. We’re sealed, Morgan. You’re my fucking queen.”
“Oh, Jack,” she moans. “I’m yours. You’ve always had my heart.”
I release as deep as I can, my cock pulsing against her tight walls.
Our panting fills the space, loud and violent.
Fuck.
I screwed her. I blew my load in her like nothing mattered. I said things I should’ve never said.
The truth I denied for so long blinds me.
I’m in love with Morgan.
Did I ask her to marry me?
Chapter 40
Morgan
Morning comes, and I cannot sleep. I am up and in the kitchen, scrambling eggs and frying bacon. I slip around the guys, who fill cups of orange juice and coffee. Some can barely keep their eyes open, others are just as chipper as me.
Jack is still in bed. If he doesn’t wake up soon, I’ll get him. I wanted him to rest. He looked so peaceful.
I bite my bottom lip as I spatula eggs onto a serving platter. It might be creepy that I stared at him sleeping. I just love him so much. I hope he doesn’t regret last night. I’m not proud that I threw myself at him the way I did. He wasn’t wrong. I used my body to tempt him, and it worked. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve intentionally sinned for Jack.
I hand Alex creamer. He holds up a piece of charred bacon.
“Nice job, cook.”
“Oops.Trash it,” I say, giggling.
