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“I thought we were going together.”
“We are,” I say. “Just... maybe I’ll get an apartment, once I have a job. And then we can... see.”
“We can see,” he repeats flatly. “Does this just apply to living together, or the whole thing?”
“Just living together.” I shake my head. “You can’t actually think I’m considering—”
“I don’t know,” he interrupts. “Because I thought things were fine, and now we’re having a conversation where I had to use the phrase ‘break up’ twice, which feels pretty fucking awful, by the way.”
“I don’t want to break up.”
“You sure about that, princess?”
“I don’t want to break up!” I cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him because suddenly, he’s acting impossible. “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You just don’t want to live with me.”
“That’s not—stop being so frustrating,” I snap.
“That’s not a real answer.”
“I’m scared!” The words rip themselves from my throat, silencing whatever else he might’ve said. “I’m scared, okay? I don’t want to live with you and get used to it and then suddenly, if it’s gone... be alone again.”
My face burns with the admission, and when I blink, I feel tears. I shake my head slightly, wiping at my cheeks with both my palms.
James gathers me into his arms gently, like he’s worried I’m about to yell at him again, but I just sag against him. My knee is still throbbing, and I can’t make myself stop crying. He cradles the back of my head with his hand, the other holding me to his chest firmly.
“We’re fine,” he says quietly. “If you need some space, you can have space. But you’re not going to lose me, I’m right here.”
“You are.”
“Yes. I am.” His lips press against the top of my head. “Now, can we have dinner?”
“I feel like we should be having something way fancier, since you’re a millionaire and all.”
He brushes my hair behind my ear. “Your cooking is all I ever want to eat.”
I roll my eyes, unable to hold back my smile. “James?”
“Yeah, princess?”
“I love you.”
He ducks down to kiss me before responding. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 4
James
Bex comes with a hoarse cry, curling up against me. I pull her closer, so her pillowy tits are pressed against my chest. I feel her heart racing. She kisses my shoulder, scratching her nails down my stomach, making me shiver pleasantly.
“Good?” she murmurs.
“Absolutely.” We’ve had sex pretty much every way possible, but she always finds ways to surprise me. Before her, I had good sex, but not the kind that truly makes you feel connected to the other person. Now? Every time she kisses me, every time she looks into my eyes while I’m deep inside her, it loosens something in my chest that chants her name. She woke me this morning with a kiss, tits in my face, and what could I do but tease her beautiful breasts until she was begging me to fuck her?
I’m not done, though. I came inside her bare; we’ve mostly stopped using condoms since she has an IUD and we’re monogamous, and I want to lick the come out of her. Whenever I coax her into sitting on my face, she blushes and gets shy, which is fucking adorable.
“Princess.”
