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My throat is so dry I have to clear it.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
He slaps my ass again and my head falls back. My nails dig into the headboard.
“That’s a good girl,” he says.
His warmth disappears and I close my eyes, knowing he’s laying down between my thighs. His fingers grip my hips and he pulls me down onto his face. The moan that sounds in his throat makes my toes curl.
His tongue drags from my pussy to my clit.
And I give into him.
My Sovereign.
EPILOGUE
PART 2
GERARD
I get in early from chores one night in late summer. It’s warm and dry, so we keep the cattle in the lower pastures. They spend their days sleeping at the edges of the woods or standing in the river and pond to keep cool. Most of the time, I feel like doing the same.
Keira’s not at the house when I get in, and Maddie tells me she took Angel out to the top of the hill that overlooks the old Garrison Ranch. I mount Shadow bareback and go after her. The late afternoon shadows lengthen. The sun spills its light like molten gold over Sovereign Mountain.
She’s in the grass, laying on her back. Angel grazes a few dozen yards away. Silently, I slide down from Shadow and give him a light slap on the shoulder to send him walking to Angel.
Keira hears my footfalls and she rolls to her side, lifting her head. I sink down on my hands and knees over her, bending and kissing her temple.
“What are you doing up here, redbird?” I ask.
She smiles, her nose scrunching. Her freckles multiply in the summer and her hair bleaches until there are strands of gold intertwined with red.
“I was hoping you’d come after me,” she sighs.
I sink down until we’re laying side by side. She touches my temple and her soft mouth twists, like she’s trying not to smile. I let her stroke through my hair and down my neck to my shoulder. She doesn’t hesitate when she touches me anymore.
She’s so confident now.
She’s not afraid.
And she never will be again.
Her fingers skim down my jaw and she presses them to my lips for a kiss. Our eyes lock and I have to pull her in and press my mouth to hers, letting her taste fill my senses. When I release her, she reaches down and takes my hand, stroking my palm with her thumb.
“Gerard,” she whispers.
I lean in closer, our bodies almost touching.
“What is it, redbird?”
Her throat bobs. Her eyes are glassy with tears as her fingers tighten on my hand. Then she moves it down and presses the heel of my palm to her lower belly.
Fuck.
My entire body freezes and my brain goes quiet. I got the reversal in March, but I’d kept my expectations low on purpose. I want children with her so badly, but I kept myself open to the possibility that might not happen.
That didn’t stop me from carving a little wooden foal one night in the barn. I painted it deep red and sealed it so it was shiny and smooth. It’s in a sitting position so the delicate legs don’t break and written on the underside is our names.
