His thrusts turn animalistic and so do my movements.
His back muscles become rigid and he curses, calling my name.
This orgasm hits me harder than any of the others. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long. Maybe because I missed the freaking hell out of him.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because of all these jumbled feelings in my chest.
I’m completely screwed.
45
Levi
If you’re a mistake, I’ll still make it every fucking time.
* * *
I push through the chaos in Ronan’s house, carrying a bucket of water.
All the team members left yesterday after I put the party to a stop.
The three I needed to fuck up hid, but there’s no running from me.
Xander, Cole and the little shit Ronan are sprawled over the sofas in the lounge area. Their limbs are thrown over each other in awkward positions.
Aiden sent me a video of Astrid hugging Ronan’s shoulders while they drank at the same time. Xander, Cole, and the other team members cheering them on.
I never drove as fast as I did last night.
I had meant to pull her down, beat the guys to a pulp, then go back to punching the bag.
But the moment she fell into my arms, I couldn’t leave.
I tried, but the thing about Astrid? She got under my fucking skin and it’s becoming impossible to pluck her out.
Then this morning happened.
I told myself it’s only one last time. One last taste. One last touch. One last fucking kiss.
But that’s impossible, too.
There’s no fucking way I’ll ever get enough of her.
Fuck the King and the Clifford names.
Fuck the animosity.
Fuck everything.
There’ll be a change of plans and Jonathan will have to accept it.
I stand in front of the three suckers who dared to defy me and pour the bucket of water over them.
Ronan gasps first, eyes widening. “It’s not me. The devil Xan made me do it.”
“Screw off.” Xan sits up, wiping water from his face. “You’re dead, Ro.”
“What the fuck?” Cole cracks his eyes open and blinks. “Captain?”