Page 86 of Ready For His Rule

“Oh, I wanted to like it.” She worried her bottom lip. “I just didn’t feel like…I should.” Her fingertips played at the buttons on his Henley. “But you…” A sigh left her. This time, it wasn’t such a sublime sound. Shiny droplets appeared on her lashes, each like a Karambit blade in his chest, but he remained still through the torture. She needed to process, to sort this shit out for herself, and he needed to shut the hell up and let her. “You, Keoni John Franzen,” she finally rasped, fingers sliding to his jaw again. “You took me into the shadows, and you made all of it okay. The darkness, the pain, even the fear…you commanded me to look at it then embrace it. You turned my most wicked thoughts into something…” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “Well, something I never imagined could be reality.”

So much for holding back.

Franz’s hand, just finished with a caress up her arm, swept over her shoulder and into her hair. With a gut-deep moan, he twisted his fingers in. Yanked the strands hard—then captured her squeal of pain with a brutal crash of his lips. Invaded her even deeper, diving his tongue along hers, forcing her jaw wider so he could taste even more of her hot, wet cavity. Not deep enough. He could never be buried inside her enough…

“I never thought you’d be a reality for me, either.”

He gave her the confession as she’d surrendered hers—rasped and rickety, from the center of his gut. Listening to the words, bumping and pushing from him, caused his fingers to follow suit. He watched, amazed, as they started trembling in her hair. He spread the tips out, seeking her cheek…gathering the drops there. No. Hoarding them for the mental scrapbook he’d begun to keep of her…realizing that at any moment, the memories would be all he had left.

Besides, his words had effectively taken care of any new rainfall down her face. In place of the tears, she now wore an openly skeptical scowl. And dammit if that didn’t look five kinds of adorable on her too—until she issued the words to justify it.

“Okay, hold up a second.”

He ticked up one side of his mouth. Added a defined thrust of his hips. “I’ll hold you up anywhere, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Sir,”—her succinct scowl clarified the title was now a term of ire instead of endearment—“but I need a little elucidation here.”

“And I’d like to help you out.” He calmed his cock and settled his smirk. “By all means, let’s elucidate.”

Her scowl tightened. “That should not turn me on so much.”

His own brows hunched. Couldn’t say the same thing about his dick this time, but that was all on her. “What shouldn’t?”

“You. Saying ‘elucidate’.”

“You know ‘elucidate’ just became my favorite word, right?”

She took a hand to his chest again—with a chastising smack. “Be serious.”

“I am. Completely.” He tightened his hold, nestling her closer. “I’m ready for your elucidation.”

An eye roll and a huff later, she turned her touch at his sternum into a pattern of hesitant swirls once more. As he looked on, the apprehension made its way up her face too. “What did you mean…that you never thought I’d be a reality?”

He chucked a soft choke. “I don’t understand.” Dipped his head, attempting to catch her downcast eyes. “I don’t fuck around with symbolism, woman. I meant exactly that. You’re…” His shook his head, dazed for a second. He really didn’t fuck with words—but right now, even finding any of them to shoot straight was a huge damn problem. “You’re…”

“Not your first ride at the rodeo?”

“Huh?”

“John.” She thumped his chest again. “Come on. You’re pretty damn good at this stuff—”

“In case you can’t tell, ku’uipo, ‘this stuff’ takes two.”

“And a hell of a lot of experience. A lot of other rodeos.”

He grunted. This had to be the strangest aftercare he’d ever been a part of. “And?”

“Are you telling me there’s never been a dream pony for you before this?”

His brain skidded, nearly cartoon style, to a halt. Like the rider in that little movie, his logic slingshotted ahead, only to snap back into the saddle, gaping and dazed. “Should I be troubled that I understood every word of that?”

“Of course not.” She patted his sternum with feminine ease, yanking him from the saddle again. For a woman who worked in a world of hard facts and gritty details, she was scarily peaceful in accepting the depth of their connection. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

The lungs beneath her fingers filled with air. Franz slowly released it. This was ridiculous, talking about “ponies” who came before her, because the woman was his fucking unicorn—but she’d also just bared herself to him on a dozen different levels, and that alone earned her an answer. But how much of an answer? Honesty, even in its brutal and painful forms, was as essential to his world as purpose and goals—but how many of the gory details did that mean he had to share? Not that this woman, so brave and bold and real, couldn’t handle any of the shit.

The pussy here was him.

Hecouldn’t handle it, forcing her to handle all of it.

He wanted to keep being her hero.

But that meant clarifying how she was his heroine.

And that meant supplying her with the perspective of his past.

And yeah, that meant he was going to have to bust out with the strange shit again.

Communication.

Carefulcommunication.

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