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Two weeks.
Two weeks of morning sex, for the first time in my life too caught up in another person to not care about morning breath.
Two weeks of at least one shared meal a day. Of his very demanding, very alpha, very panty-melting sex.
I tried to remind myself that it was just two weeks.
Two weeks was nothing.
You can barely know someone in two weeks.
But I knew him.
I knew him.
And he was leaving me.
“Summer...” he started, his voice hard. He was leaning against the closed bedroom door, looking down at me sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Where are you going?” I asked, trying to make my tone less hysterical. I was being pathetic. And needy. And so not like myself.
“On a run.”
“A run?” What the fuck was a run?
“A business trip,” he clarified. His face was unyielding, his hazel eyes giving away nothing about what was underneath. That wasn't Reign my bed buddy, that was Reign the Henchmen president.
“How long will you be gone?” God, I sounded like a nagging wife.
“I'm making it as short as possible.”
He was giving me nothing. He was leaving me alone at a compound that I never walked around without him and he wasn't even going to give me a roundabout estimate of how long he was going to be missing?
“Summer...” he said, his voice softer, walking toward me. He crouched down in front of me, his hands going onto my knees. “I can't tell you how long it's gonna be because I don't know. Two days drive each way. Then the meeting, I have no idea. Expect five days, accept that it might be more.”
Five days.
That wasn't that bad.
I could deal with that.
I was pretty sure I could deal with that.
“I'm leaving Cash here with you.”
My brows drew together. “Isn't he supposed to go too?”
“Yeah, but he ain't. He's staying here so he can keep an eye on you. You know him. You're comfortable with him. And it's good to have someone here who knows about your situation so they can keep an eye out.”
Keep an eye out because things had died down. After Deke got disposed of (good riddance to bad rubbish), things had died down. And by 'died down' I mean everything stopped. No more of V's men on the streets. No more cops flashing around my picture on posters. No more men snooping around Henchmen grounds.
Instead of comforting me, it made me worry all the more.
And while Reign wouldn't talk about it, telling me instead to 'leave Henchmen business to him' (the arrogant ass), I knew it wasn't sitting right with him either. Because no was was V scared away by one lost lackey.
“Shut those gears down,” he commanded, squeezing my knees. “You'll be fine here. Safest place possible for you. Even if I'm not here.”
I got the strong, irrational, ridiculous thought that I would never be safe without him around.
Then I squashed the fuck out of that irrationality.
Because I wasn't going to let myself be that weak.
“Alright,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “I understand.”
His eyebrows lowered, like he could see right through my bullshit. But I lifted my chin and worked to make my face as passive as possible.
“You understand?”
“Yep,” I agreed, pulling my hands out from underneath his. “Though I'm going to miss the sex,” I said, standing up and moving away from him.
I didn't get far.
He snagged my belly from behind, hauling me back against his chest. “You'll miss the sex?” he asked, his voice sounded half-amused and half... something else. I couldn't quite place it, especially not able to see his face.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice a little breathless he was holding me so hard. “The sex has been pretty good. I'll miss it.”
“Pretty good? The sex was... pretty good?” he asked, his tone amused. He knew I was fucking with him.
“Well,” I said, making my tone sound sweet, “it's been... almost a full day. I think I'm starting to forget if it was any good or not.”
That was all it took.
I was turned, my pants and panties were whipped off me and I was thrown on the bed, shirt still on. Then, a moment later, he was on top of me, shirt and pants gone. And a second after that, he slid inside me.
“You need a little reminder?” he asked, biting hard into my lip as he started thrusting, his rhythm unhurried.
My back arched, my hands going to his shoulders, dragging my nails in. “Harder,” I demanded, trying to grind my hips into his.
“Nope,” he said, looking down at me, continuing his torturous pace.
“Reign, please,” I tried. Yeah. I begged. Shamelessly.
“I'll fuck you as hard as you want,” he started and I felt my hope raise, “when you admit that you'll miss me.”
What? No. Hell to the no.
I would. Oh, my god. I was going to miss him.
But I was trying to convince myself that I wouldn't. So I couldn't exactly go and admit it to him, could I?
“Stubborn,” he said, shaking his head, rocking his hips into mine. His lips lowered to mine, soft and sweet, lots of tongue and lip nibbling. “I'm gonna miss this sweet pussy,” he admitted and my belly fluttered. “You're gonna miss my cock,” he informed me.
“Yes,” I admitted, breathlessly, feeling my orgasm building slowly.
His tongue went to my neck. “And you're gonna miss my tongue licking and my lips sucking on that sweet clit of yours.”
Oh, god yes.
But I was beyond words. I was at the throaty whimpers stage.
“And when I get back,” he said, his mouth by my ear, his voice getting strained, “I am gonna claim your ass. Bury deep in their until you are screaming my name.”
Ohmygod.
“Reign...” I moaned, pushing my hips against him faster, feeling my orgasm budding.
“Just like that,” he crooned, pushing in deep.
And I crashed.
Down.
Hard.
My sex clenched hard around him, my legs shaking with the sensation, as I started gasping, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
Reign followed me a moment later, my name on his lips, as he buried in me, his face in my neck.
