Chapter 20
This timewhen I wake up, Martin is nestled against my back, his dick hard against my ass, his arm draped over my waist. My body is a little sore and a lot sated.
I have no idea what time it is, but it's definitely morning. The cabana doesn't have blackout curtains, but gauzy drapes that let in the perfect Caribbean sunlight.
Martin must have been awake before me, because the moment I stretch, his hand moves up to cup my breast and he places an open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder.
I roll over and burrow my face into his chest.
"Morning, Princess," he murmurs against my neck, his voice gravelly.
This!
This is what I missed so much when I woke up alone in his apartment. The intimacy of waking up in his arms, of getting to hear his first words of the day, of smelling his body when it's purely his scent—completely free of soap, a lingering whiff of bergamot dominated by the smell that is purely his own. He smells like man and sunshine and sex and contentment.
Last time, I missed out on all of this.
I'm so greedy for every intimacy of being with him I might be embarrassed if it wasn't for how good his hard dick feels against my belly. Gawd! I've only been awake a few minutes and I'm already wet and achy.
I roll him onto his back and straddle him, sitting up. I glare down at him with mock grumpiness. "Just so we're clear," I waggle my finger between us. "This is what I need every morning after with you. No waking up alone. No stupid notes. No pathetic work emergencies."
He leans up on his elbows and captures my finger between his teeth in a playful bite. He nods seriously with my finger still in his mouth before releasing it. "Yes, Your Highness."
He sits the rest of the way up, causing his abs to flex impressively, before moving us both back so his back is against the headboard. He pulls my hips with him as moves, positioning me so that my naked pussy is flush against his dick. It feels so good, I can't help rotating my hips so that my clit rubs his cock. As one, we both catch our breath, our eyes fluttering.
His hands tighten on my hips, stilling me. "Though for the record, it was a work emergency."
"Oh, sure."
"Ian had just met Savannah for the first time. He was …" Martin's gaze leaves mine to look sightlessly at the window. "… Deeply disconcerted."
"Oh." I still completely, surprised. Doing the mental math to piece together what I know of the timeline of Ian and Savannah's relationship. "Is that why you were so distant when I confronted you?"
"Yes." His hands leave my hips to skim up my body and cup my jaw. He's meeting my gaze again now, and it feels like he can see all the way to my soul. "It about killed me to leave you alone in my bed, but at the time, I was used to being available to Ian twenty-four/seven. If he needed me, I went."
I nod, his hands still on my jaw. "I get that."
"And then when I realized why he needed me … because he'd just met your sister and was already head over ass for her? Jesus." Abruptly, he drops my face and just pulls me close to him, rubbing his face against my neck and holding me like he's afraid I'm going to banish. "It never occurred to me that he would fall for her. Hell, I assumed he would never even notice her in his house. Once, in college, a rat died in our dorm room and he just stepped over its corpse on the way to class."
"Ew," I say playfully, stroking his shoulders, because I'm not sure what else to do with this suddenly emotional version of Martin.
"I had just had the most perfect night of my life, with the most perfect woman in the world, and suddenly there was this huge secret between us. Yeah, I'd down my due diligence before hiring your sister. I knew she was a talented chef and had no criminal record. I assumed she was a decent person solely on the fact that she was your sister."
"Hey! She's the best person."
He gives a snort of laughter against my skin. "I know that now. But at the time, I didn't know what Ian was getting into. If she broke his heart …"
He's still holding me so close, with his face burrowed against my neck and my hands on his shoulders. I feel the shudder go through him. I feel him swallow back what I can only assume are tears.
Maybe it shouldn't be sexy, how vulnerable he is right now, but it is. Because no one—no boyfriend or hook up or friend or relative—has ever been this vulnerable with me before. Has ever trusted me like this before. Has ever come so close to handing over his heart and letting me hold it in my hands.
"I was so fucking scared. I was scared of what would happen if things went south for them. And I was terrified that if you found out what I'd done, you'd freak out."
"What do you mean? What you'd done?"
"That I met you just once and pretty much went around the bend. I think some part of me knew you were it for me from that moment. Then, after that day in the elevator, I was obsessed. I found out everything I could about you. I went a little crazy trying to figure out how to help you and protect you. And then it seemed like it had all backfired. I had no idea how to protect him and be with you. I had no idea how to put what I wanted before what he needed. Maybe he didn't need me to protect him, but I didn't know how not to."
I hold him as tightly as I can and try to pour everything I'm feeling for him into that embrace. "I get it. I really do. I don't know what I would have done if our positions were reversed."
Except I kind of do know what I would have done. Because I was there in when I realized Savannah was falling for Ian. I know how worried I was for her heart until I saw them together. Somehow it's harder to watch someone you love run head first into danger than would it ever be to do so yourself.
My breath catches as it hits me, fully, fast, and hard. I love him.
I love Martin completely and with every frayed and frantic fiber of my being.
I don't know yet if I'm ready to say it out loud, but I definitely want to do something about it. To feel him inside of me.
I rock my hips again. His cock has softened a little—totally natural given the intensity of our conversation—but the moment he feels me moving against him, it's hard again. I try to angle my hips so that he just slips inside me.
He plants his hands on my hips to still me and pulls back to look at me. "Hang on there, Princess. We still don't have condoms."
I pout and stick out my tongue. "Bully."
"Protector," he counters.
I rub my clit against the length of him, my mind racing. "Okay, let's speed-round twenty questions."
He just arches an eyebrow in silent question.
"I haven't been with anyone else since we were together and I was clean then. You?"
"Same," he says without a moment's hesitation.
"I want kids. Do you?"
"Yes, but?—"
"I love you. Do you love me?"
He stills, his gazing darkening to an even deeper black than normal. "Are you sure?"
"Abso-clucking-lutely."
This makes him laugh, which is exactly what I intended.
He hugs me to him again, this time burrowing his face in my hair so he can whisper in my ear. "I love you, too, Princess."
I hold his words tight to my soul, squeezing them into all the empty places in my heart. Then, when I'm afraid I might ruin the moment by bursting into tears, I pull back and look at him. "What's with the nickname garbage? Sometimes it's Princess. Sometimes it's Your Highness. Sometimes it's Buttercup. Do you have latent decision making related anxiety?"
He chuckles. "It's not obvious?"
I shake my head. "Not at all."
He slips a hand into my hair. "You're my hot-mess Princess Leia. It's how I thought of you before I knew your name. And it fits. You're strong and fierce, Princess." He kisses me, long and deep and soul-searing. "Your Highness."
I give a little shiver. "Okay, but then why did you call me Buttercup yesterday?"
"Because Princess Leia is for us. Just us. I don't ever want to share that with anyone else. But Princess Buttercup is what? The second best princess of all time. So I'm willing to share that version of you with others."
And that may be the sweetest, sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.
"I can live with that." I grind myself against him. "Now, will you please fuck me?"
And he does.
* * *