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“What?” I push up to look at him but I’m met with a smirk. I smack his chest. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie about this. It’s serious stuff.”
He deflects, “I think I need a redo.” Lifting his hips off the mattress. Dragging my gaze down the length of his smooth, firm torso to his tented shorts.
I roll my eyes at his stamina. “You’ve been inside me twice in the last twelve hours.”
“Don’t remember. Can you walk me through it,” he goes on darkly, a lazy drawl to his sleepy words. “Something to do with a skipping rope, am I right?”
I arch my brow at him. “Have you heard of the boy who cried wolf, Xander?”
“I thought I was a rabbit, like you.”
“No. It’s an old story about lying. The shepherd boy used to shout “wolf” in the fields so all the villages would gather together and look for it. But there was no wolf. And he would laugh and laugh at their angry faces. He did this trick many times just because he was bored. But one day, therewasa wolf. And when the boy cried “wolf,” no one came. And the sheep got eaten.” I feel immediately sad, my heart dropping as I repeat the tale told to me many times. “My dad told me that. See, ‘no one believes a liar, Kaya, even when they are telling the truth.’” I clench my jaw. “He’s the biggest liar of them all.”
Xander pulls me up so that we share a pillow, our noses inches apart. The evidence of his affection sparkles through his topaz-blue eyes, softening my mood.
I smile at him—it’s impossible not to. “It’s silly. My dad’s a cheating bastard, but I blame my mum. I’m a fucking feminist who blames the female for his cheating.Fuck.”
He watches me closely. “My father’s a cheater, too.”
That unsettles me. “Are you?”
His nose strokes mine, playful. I’ve got the kittenish panther this morning. A well-rested, well-fucked predator seeking pawing time. “Nah.”
“You’ve never had a girlfriend,” I point out. “How do you know you’re the loyal type?”
“’Cause loyalty is in my blood.”
“But not in your dad’s?” I press.
“It’s not right what he did, Kaya.” He tucks a rogue caramel-brown strand of hair behind my ear. “But he was loyal in a way just not to her. He was loyal to the love he felt for another woman. Loved her once and forever. You might not know this, but I have a half-brother, Konnor, and he’s the son of this other woman. She died, but his love for her never did. My mum wasn’t the love of my dad’s life, and she knew it.”
“You believe inonelove, then?”
“How can I not? I’ve seen it with my own eyes. My brother Bronson fell in love at first sight. Shoshanna slapped him, kissed him, and saved his life all in the space of an hour. How does a man get over that kind of woman? And Max despised women my entire childhood. Took his hate for our mother out on all of them. Then, he picks this drunk chick up off the floor at her eighteenth birthday party, a quirky, silly thing that had no business being in our world, but… it was Cassidy. She is everything my mother isn’t. His perfect match. And Clay, well, his soulmate came in the shape of a girl half his age, with bohemian ideologies and unkempt blonde hair. He smooths his tie, and she throws pillows around. It’s a fucking clash of control and chaos.”
A contented smile rests on my lips, hearing the awe in his timbre as he discusses his brothers’ relationships. Fear and intimidation are words used to describe the Butcher Brothers.Romanticswould have never been a label. “And you?”
“Well, Woman. Since you’re asking.” He leans in and kisses my nose, dragging his lips across to my cheek and finally my mouth. He peppers me with small kisses, then pulls back to ensnare me, desire and affection evident in his expression. “We’re just starting out, but I’m pretty fucking sure I’ve got an argumentative little scrapper who doesn’t sweep shit under the rug like I’ve been trained to do. Like everyone else in my world does so fucking well. What can I say? I’m not house-trained. I never was.” His gaze suddenly slides right through me, drilling in deep. “I want this. Between me and you. I want all in. Are you all in with me, Woman?”
I am. But… after tonight.
I won’t keep anything from you.
Deflecting, I slide over him, dragging my body along the harder, larger plane of his until I’m sitting on his abdomen. His face is still bruised but beautiful, sending my heart scattering through my body. “Do you think I can take you like this? With me on top?”
“I think I want to watch you try,” he challenges, amusement in his tone that doesn’t abate the lust deepening it. I shuffle backwards, his erection jutting out. He lifts his hands and grips the wooden headboard. “He’s all yours.”
I pull his erection from his shorts, the magnificent appendage bobbing and swaying free. The silver bars are a ladder to an already swollen and dripping tip. “Lose the shirt, Woman, or I’ll chew it off.”
I laugh, tugging the shirt over my head, my breasts bouncing free to the air but flushing under his scorching gaze. He is fire.
“Get yourself wet first, Woman. Let me watch how you play with your pussy.” He lathers his tongue along his lower lip. “And then slide down my cock and ride me.”
Swallowing over a lump in my throat, I spread my legs wider over his sturdy torso.
I reach down to play on the outside of my knickers with a delicate brush of my fingertips, a whimper leaving me to the sensation, a groan rumbling within him to the view.
My eyes roll back as I feel pleasure bloom beneath my skin. It’s his gaze and the feather-like touch of my fingers. Seduced by the moment, I dip my forefinger into my knickers and play at the apex between my folds.
