Page 58 of Brought By the Storm

He looked at me with a questioning gaze. “What?”

I feared Eric would be spooked if he knew just how fast I was falling for him, and I decided to backpedal. “I mean, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do with you. I think it’s fair to say I fancy you.”

He giggled. “You fancy me? Shall we begin courting?”

“Ah, so you are back to mocking me, I see. Just because I refrained from spanking you tonight doesn’t mean you’re off-limits tomorrow.” I grinned and gave him another peck.

“Um, that was so hot the way you came on me, then pushed it in me,” he said, face flushing. “Does that turn you on?”

“Hmm, indeed,” I confirmed. “I’m afraid I’m becoming quite possessive of you. It felt like I was marking you as mine.”

“I want to be yours,” he blurted.

I paused, unsure of whether he meant sexually or more. “Eric, I’m beginning to have real feelings for you. This isn’t just sexual experimentation for me.”

He gulped. “Me either.”

“As much as I wish to continue cuddling, we should clean up.”

He sighed. “I know. I’ll get a washcloth.”

I pushed him back flat. “Babe, I told you, I’m taking care of you tonight. I’ll get it. Just lay there. I’ll return straight away.” I went to the ensuite and dampened the cloth with hot water, walking back to Eric, where he remained uncovered—not even hiding his now flaccid dick from me. It made me feel trusted, and that made me elated. I climbed back on the mattress and wiped him clean.

“Carrington?”

“Yes?”

He bit his lower lip. “Will I sound too needy if I ask to sleep on your chest again?”

I smiled. “Will there be a repeat drooling incident?”

He nodded. “Probably.”

My smile broadened. “Okay. I think I can endure it.” I rolled us so that I was on my back, and he moved his body down so that he could rest his head on me.

“I can hear your heart beating. It’s…comforting,” he murmured.

I stroked his hair, thinking it was soothing for me too, having my guy sleeping on me. “Did you have a nice day, Eric?”

He hummed, which I took as a yes. Within moments, his breathing slowed and became deeper, signaling he was asleep. I closed my eyes, content and grateful our driver had brought us to Connecticut—brought me to Eric.

* * * *

“Good morning, sweet prince,” I murmured when Eric opened his eyes.

Sometime during the night, he had turned, moving off my body. I had spooned him instead, basking in his warmth and the coconut smell of his shampoo. Now, he had rolled on his back, forcing his eyes to open for longer intervals after each attempt. He started to yawn, bringing a fist to his mouth before completing the action with a small whimper and jerky motions of his arms. I couldn’t help but grin.

“What?” he asked.

“You. You’re so adorable,” I explained.

He sighed. “Glad you think so.” He appraised me and frowned. “It’s not fair. How do you look so good in the morning?” Eric leaned closer and sniffed me. “And smell so good?” He pretended to be annoyed. “You got up and brushed your teeth, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “Guilty. You were just sleeping the day away. I figured I might as well do something productive.”

“And you brushed your hair,” he accused.

“And showered, and still you slept. As I said, I saw no point in lollygagging just because you’re a man of leisure.”