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I blush when I remember moaning like what my grams would describe as acatin. His hands touched me everywhere, his abrasive hand still massaging my breast even though he’s half asleep.
A smile crosses my face as my eyes register his room, because I was too busy to do it last night. The colors remind me of him, black and emerald green and there’s a large painting of a hunting scene up at the ceiling.
Bright morning light enters through the thin curtains and I blink, lazily turning around in bed to face him. His grey eyes meet mine and a thrill tickles my spine when I realize that this is the most peaceful I’ve ever seen him.
He’s beautiful like this, gorgeous even, an animal who last night sunk his teeth into his prey and I’m still sore from his attentions, the part between my legs tender from too much loving.
“Good morning,” I whisper as he traces my features with veneration; a stunned expression on his face as if he just like me thought that last night was only a dream.
“Good morning,” he says back, his voice rough from morning hoarseness and he presses his lips against mine, before letting out a groan as he leisurely strokes me over my hair. “You still smell like a little virgin.”
A smile blooms inside of me because I’m not really a virgin anymore. This man took it, Mycroft Smith III who looks like the arch nemesis of a superhero took my innocence. And he didn’t do it halfheartedly, but went all in, making sure not to miss anything.
I’m so blissed out it takes a while for me to sense the bedeviling feeling in my belly. Mycroft doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that I belong to another world, one that’s so different from his that we might as well come from two different planets.
What if when he finds out, he’s not going to want me anymore? The insight makes me close my mouth, pinching my lips. I’m going to tell him. I will. Just not right now...
Not now, when he looks at me like that.
The expression in his eyes has gone from possessive to a man exposed and he rasps, “I’m going to get so lost in you...”
When he pulls me closer to him, my skin starts flushing like a bellicose sunrise, and I let out a low, needy moan, almost crying out when he palms a sensitive spot on the inside of my thigh...
Stirring, I jerk in horror at the chef casually rolling in a breakfast trey. Mortified I look at Mycroft, thankful that the covers are pulled up to my chin and he looks down at me with a rare, playful glint in his eyes.
“Leave,” Mycroft tells the chef dismissively and chef snorts in response, throwing me a chastised glare, before closing the door.
Letting out a groan, I hide my face in the pillow. “I can’t believe you let him see me like this. And you had him domyjob.”
“It’s your day off today,” Mycroft says, “and don’t be ashamed for pleasing me.”
“Pleasing my boss, you mean,” I murmur with heated cheeks.
“Is that all I am to you?” Mycroft asks in a suddenly cold voice. “Are we just boss and employee?”
“Aren’t we?” I say unsurely and his eyes narrow.
“What was it you screamed last night, loud enough for everyone to hear?”
Flushing, I say, “Mycroft.”
“That’s right.” A smirk tugs at his lips. “And nobody calls me by my name.”
Warmth floods in me and I peer at him, his big, muscled frame causing my stomach to hurt and I flush when I imagine myself pregnant with Mycroft’s baby.
Straightening he asks, “Hungry?”
I let him know, I’ll just have some tea and then I notice the Silver Lake Tabloid on the breakfast trey and I grab it, my eyes rounding at the headline.
“You’re front page news,” I say, looking at a photo of him and his fuming face. I remember the way I heard him call my name as he looked for me. He sounded like he was starving, like he’d been deprived of something he couldn’t live without.
“Looks like you made quite the scene yesterday,” I murmur. “All that ruckus just for me...”
“Who else?” Mycroft asks, biting into toast and his bites are so big it’s fascinating to watch him. “I’d start a war for you. Hundreds of wars if needed.”
That makes me snigger and I hide an eye roll. “You don’t mean that.”
He throws me a serious look and I gulp. He really does mean it, putting a pressure over my chest that feels like a warm blanket.
