“What part?” His pupils dilate. “The part where you let me fuck you like a whore? Or the part where you begged?”
“Stop it.” Heat consumes my cheeks. “Whether you—” I stop and trail off. “It’s different for me, being with you, like that. It felt like we were connected.”
He raises a brow. “We were very much connected, Duch. I was deeply fucking connected to you.”
I roll my eyes. “Not justliterally.”
He grins wider. Dimples form.
I shove him playfully. “Konnor, seriously, was it different for you? Being with me?”
His expression shifts from playful to serious. “Yes.God, yes. Nothing has ever felt that good.”
“How is it different?” I whisper, needing reassurance as pathetic as that is. I need it.
Will he understand?
Is his dream girl ruined?
He exhales, his gaze moving around the room as he thinks. I shouldn’t have asked. It was a silly thing to ask.
He looks at me again, intensity radiating from him. My breath hitches. “Every time I was with a girl, there was always something missing. An emptiness. The more I tried to fill it, the deeper it felt.”
He clears his throat. “Every girl I’ve been with has only made not having you more obvious. Yesterday was the first time I’ve ever wanted to whisper ‘you’re mine’ in someone’s ear. The first time I’ve wanted to say, ‘I’m yours.’ That’s the first time I’ve ever fucked someone I love, Duchess.”
I like his answer.
And I am his.
And he’s mine.
Sitting with Konnor on the porch, eating his signature waffles-with-cheese concoction, which, despite my initial reluctance, are actually delicious, gives me blissful insight into what a forever with him could look like.
Getting ahead of myself.
But… I sweep my eyes over the veranda. A big house surrounded by gardens. We would spend the weekends here, sitting and listening to the birds, Konnor reading the paper or a book while I watch the kids as they run around on the grass?—
Wow.
Kids?
Elise and Jax are walking across the lawn, headed towards the court with tennis rackets in their hands. I'm not used to this kind of life. In the sun. In the open. Not locked away in my room, or with my head buried in a book.
Real life?
Social Blesk? Tick.
Konnor sits facing the garden, with his ankle resting on his knee, his arms spread over the back of the chair, relaxed. He’s wearing a green tee-shirt that highlights his emerald eyes and a pair of black loose-fitting track-pants. His hair is messy in the most delicious way. He doesn’t look like little Deakon right now. He looks content and free. There are no shackles on this boy. No restraints.
A door behind us opens.
Konnor twists in his chair to look at the French doors. “Dad.” Standing, he embraces the older man, firmly tapping him on the back. “Come meet someone.”
“Nice to see you, son.” The man smiles at me over Konnor’s shoulder. Should I stand to be polite? I dab my lips for coffee residue, but I know there is none.
“Hello,” I manage.
Konnor releases his dad and turns towards me. "This is Blesk. She’s—“ He pauses, then smiles. "My girl."
