Royal Line by Carrie Ryan (lightweight ebook reader .txt) 📗

and told him exactly who I was. But right then? Hottest thing I’d ever experienced.

He flicked his finger over my clit again, turned me ever so slightly to capture my lips, and I came, my pussy clamping around his cock.

He filled me then, his entire body shaking as he pounded into me one last time, the condom the only thing between us.

I fought to catch my breath, fought to catch everything.

Because I fell into the abyss with him, and I knew there would be no crawling out.

Not without pain. Not without forgetting.

But for now, it didn’t matter.

For now, he was with me, and that was all that mattered.

I’d have to face the truth after he walked out.

And I would do that.

But for now, I could pretend.

For now, I could feel.

Chapter 15 Kannon

Mistakes happen. Life shouldn’t be one of them.

I woke up slowly, not knowing where I was like I usually did. Years of training had taught me to open my eyes as soon as I woke up, assess my surroundings, get my bearings, and know what situation I was in. Now it wasn’t like that.

Because of the woman in my arms.

The woman whose ass was currently pressed against my dick. I had come to talk to her for a reason. To do another security protocol for her next family call. To make sure she’d eaten something. I knew the stress could mess with appetite.

Shut up, you wanted to talk.

Which was such bullshit. I never wanted to talk. But I hated the chasm between us. Problem was I was there to protect her, not fuck her. Someone needed to tell my dick that, though.

Something lurched inside me at the word fuck and the emotion pulled my lips into a frown.

Why didn’t I like the word fuck when it came to her? It shouldn’t bother me. She couldn’t be more than just a fuck. And yet, I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

I wasn’t a complete fool. I knew that outside of this house, this situation, we didn’t work. She’d go home. And I’d go back to work. But for this moment in time, if I could chase the shadows from her eyes, I would.

What about your own?

She might not agree, but I cared about her. She didn’t need my particular brand of bullshit. But If I could make her smile for a couple of days, then I’d do that and pray to Christ we didn’t destroy each other in the end.

My hand was on her breast, and her nipple pebbled into my palm. She moved back into me in her sleep, as if needing my touch, and my cock pressed against her ass. One movement and I’d be able to slide right into her.

But hell, I couldn’t.

Not when doing so would screw up what I was trying to stay away from to begin with. And I didn’t have a condom, and there was no way I was going to slide into her sweet heat without protection. But Christ, the more I thought about it, the harder I became.

I slowly pulled away at that thought, knowing that I couldn’t do this again. I needed to walk away and be the man that protected her and not let myself fall again.

Because I could feel it.

That unnamed emotion that wanted something more. I hadn’t let myself feel that since Phoebe.

And I’d be damned if I let anyone that close again.

I slid out of bed then tucked London in, as if seeing her uncomfortable in any way did something to me that I’d rather not think about. No, it was just because I didn’t want her to get a fucking cold.

Because if she did so, then I’d have to deal with her complaining. That was why I did it. Not for some sense of comfort or some other shit.

I headed to the bathroom, took care of business, and washed my hands, my gaze straying to the trashcan right next to the sink.

 I frowned, trying to wrap my mind around what I was actually seeing.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered and then reached down into the trashcan, lifting away a piece of tissue and cursing.

“Fuck.”

My heart raced, and I clenched my fist at my side, knowing I couldn’t go back and change it, but Jesus, how could this have happened?

No, it had to be a mistake. It had happened later, not during. It couldn’t be this. It just couldn’t.

“Jesus.”

I’d tell her when she woke up. Then we’d figure out what to do. Because maybe the condom had broken after, not when I had been buried balls-deep inside her, both of us screaming each other’s names while trying to keep quiet so the others couldn’t hear.

Who are you kidding?

I damn well knew the others had heard, and I hadn’t given a shit. That just egged me on even more. Just made me want to pound into her harder. But apparently all that pounding meant I’d fucking broken the condom. I tried to breathe, but I couldn’t.

This was not fucking happening.

I quickly changed then headed back out to the bedroom where London was still sleeping. I didn’t wake her, but as soon as I got back into the room after checking in with my team, I’d tell her.

Then we’d deal with it. That’s going to go well.

I shook my head, pulling my gaze from her soft curves and the way that she looked so gentle and peaceful in her sleep.

As if she wasn’t already scared shitless.

I found Olly and Sparrow in the dining room, going over plans and purposely not meeting my gaze.

Fuck, apparently, they had heard. We hadn’t been quiet last night. London was a screamer.

“I need coffee,” I muttered.

“Feeling a little parched there, boss?” Sparrow said.

I narrowed my gaze at her as she and Olly smirked right back.

“Fuck all y’all,” I mumbled as they snickered.

I poured myself coffee and drank half the cup, ignoring the fact that it scalded my throat. Thankfully it wasn’t too hot since they had left the coffee pot