Fucking.
Shatter.
My whole body lights up, only being held down by strong hands as I explode like the fireworks that are no doubt covering the sky in multicoloured light at this very moment. Wave upon wave of intense pleasure crashes through me, and I obey Jax’s command coming all over his face as my liquid release gushes out of me.
Happy fucking New Year.
CHAPTERELEVEN
LILLY
We spend the next couple of days enjoying the sights of London, doing the whole tourist thing. We take an open-top bus, something I’ve never done before even though I grew up here. Lexi and Ryan join us every day, and it’s wonderful to have them back in my life again, as if they were never out of it.
Ryan is still a little unsure of the guys, casting suspicious looks their way every so often until one day, Jax and him start talking and discover that they both spent time in South Africa training. Although I’m not sure what that means for either of them. I know that it can’t be good if Black Knight was involved, which they would have been given that Jax mentions it as part of his training. It hurts my soul that they went through that, especially Jax. I can see a newfound respect in Ryan’s eyes after that, and I’m glad that they’ve found some common ground.
We have two days left, and I wake up in an empty bed, wondering where Loki and Jax, who spent the night exploring my body in the most mind-shattering ways, are. Coming out of the bedroom, dressed in just Loki’s t-shirt, I sleepily stumble into the living room area to find a wonderful breakfast laid out for me, and all four guys sitting round the small dining table withSlow Handsby Niall Horan playing softly in the background. They all stop talking when I enter, looking up at me as I walk towards them, their eyes drinking me in and causing a blush to spread across my cheeks.
“Morning, Princess,” Ash greets me, getting up and pulling out the chair in between his and Kai’s for me.
He kisses my cheek sweetly when I reach him, then motions for me to take a seat, pushing the chair in as I lower myself down. He resumes his seat, and it’s then that I notice they’re all still looking at me intently. I can’t help narrowing my eyes at them.
“What’s going on?” I ask, raising a brow as I watch Kai begin to fill up a plate with pancakes, fruit, greek yoghurt, and then drizzling it all with syrup.
“We thought, Pretty Girl, that you might like a girls’ day with Lexi, so we organised a spa day in town with lunch and champagne,” Loki tells me, pouring me a large glass of fruit juice, most likely tropical, as he knows that’s my favourite.
“Oh,” I respond, my lips lifting at the thoughtfulness of these men. “That sounds wonderful, thank you,” I tell them, accepting the plate from Kai and the glass from Loki.
I take my knife and fork, cutting some pancake and piling on some strawberries and yoghurt, and bring my fork to my lips just as Ash speaks.
“And then tomorrow, we’re visiting your mom’s grave, Princess.”
His tone is gentle, but even so, my hand freezes, my appetite vanishing. I’ve been avoiding the subject, knowing that I have to face it soon, but unable to bring myself to even think about it, about going there.
With measured control, I lower my fork down, the food uneaten on it. Looking up and round at the guys, they’ve all paused in their eating, and are looking back at me with varying degrees of love and concern etched on their faces. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face Ash.
“Okay,” I say with a nod.
His hand comes up, his warm, dry palm cupping my face in a gesture so loving and sweet that the tears I’ve been trying to hold back spring to my eyes, and a lump forms in my throat.
“Good girl,” he says softly. “Now, eat your breakfast, and drink your juice.”
Part of me knows that I should probably bristle at his dominating ways. That my inner feminist should be burning her bra and screaming ‘down with the patriarchy!’ But I just feel a sense of relief at following his orders, at not having to decide anything. There’s something so freeing about relinquishing control to another person. Ash knows that I need to eat, even if I don’t feel like it, so he’s not saying it just to be a controlling dick. He’s just taking care of me in the only way that he knows how
Before I can pick up my fork again, Kai’s slender fingers grasp the silver handle and bring the morsel to my lips. His honey eyes capture mine sans glasses, encouraging me to open up, which I do, letting him place the fork on my tongue. I take the food off with my teeth as he pulls the fork out, a smile lifting his lips as I begin to chew, the sweetness of the fruit and syrup bursting on my tongue and making me realise how hungry I am.
“Mmmm…thanks,” I mutter, swallowing it down and reaching for my juice.
I take a big gulp, smiling when the tropical flavour fills my mouth. I can feel my forehead crease as I see that darkness is still there in his amber depths. I hate that it looks a lot like pain and inner turmoil. Reaching out, I take his hand, twining my fingers with his, marvelling for a second that although he’s slighter than the others, his hand is still bigger than mine.
“I love you so much, Kai Matthews,” I whisper to him, catching his gaze so that he can see the truth of my words.
Afterlifeby Hailee Steinfeld starts playing softly in the background, and his hand tightens around mine, his breath leaving his chest on a shaky exhale.
“I wish I deserved it,” he murmurs back, his demons rising to the surface so clearly I can almost see them gazing back at me, eyes full of self-loathing.
My heart drops at his words at the same time that a fire lights inside of me, determined to make him believe that he is worthy, regardless of what happened to him to cause this doubt.
Getting up out of my chair, I let go of his hand and manage to squeeze myself onto his lap without knocking anything off the table—go me!His hands immediately go to my bare thighs, the touch sending a shiver running through me that goes straight to my core. Placing my hands on his cheeks, I run them up the sides of his face and into his hair, gently tugging until he’s looking up into my eyes again. His pupils are blown, a mix of lust and self-deprivation swirling in his eyes.