Cracked Kingdom (The Royals #5)(75)

“You’re just saying that so I invite you to be my partner in the circus act.”

His thumb flicks under my eye to wipe away a stupid tear that escaped. “For sure. I need to be there if you’re going to be swinging around in a leotard looking impossibly hot. I can’t let the bearded lady or the lion tamer steal my girl.”

Because he’s Easton Royal and I have zero self-control, because my sore heart needs all the sun it can get, because I love him back, I throw myself into his arms and kiss him.

I meant it to only be a kiss, a quick peck even, but I can’t stop. I kiss him and kiss him and suddenly my hands are finding the button on his jeans. My fingers are pulling down his zipper. My mouth is skipping across his jaw to taste his earlobe and then his salty neck.

He lets me do all of these things until he lies beneath me, naked except for a pair of black boxer briefs.

“You done?” he asks when even those are off.

“Not yet.” My cheeks heat up as I admire him. All of him. He’s beautiful in a way that I didn’t expect him to be. I’m not a big fan of guy’s dicks. Generally, I find them unattractive. I spend zero time online searching them up, but Easton? I can’t stop staring at him—from his silky brown hair to his abnormally good-looking toes, Easton Royal is pure perfection. His chest is lightly muscled, his abdomen is ridged. His thighs are strong and his legs are long. Every inch of him looks powerful.

His hand drifts down to clasp himself and he squeezes so hard, his knuckles turn white. “You’re making me crazy, Hart. I’m going to last all of two seconds unless you stop looking at me.”

“I can’t help it.”

He responds with an explosion of activity, flinging my shirt over my head, lifting me off the mattress enough to pull my pants off. There’s the faint sound of fabric tearing, a curse, and then, a satisfied, “Finally.”

He slows when I’m down to my underwear. His hands smooth over my hips in long, sweeping strokes. He maps my curves, my stomach, the arch of my back. His mouth moves from my lips to my jaw, down my neck and across my collarbone. He kisses the curve of my breast, the tip, and the valley between.

He reaches between us to roll on a condom. “You okay with this?” His eyes are hot and his color is high. His lips are swollen from my teeth and tongue.

I have never been so ready in my entire life. “Yes,” I say with embarrassing eagerness.

He rolls over and positions me over him.

“Remember, go easy on me. It’s my first time,” he whispers before I lower myself.

I don’t know if it’s my first time or my fiftieth, but it doesn’t matter because it’s our first. He grits his teeth and sweat forms on his forehead. His fingers tighten on my hips and his entire body is tense beneath me. The cords of his neck straining as he grapples with his control.

“Hart,” he gasps.

“East,” I sigh.

Our nicknames for each other have corny meanings we can’t ever give voice to because the cheesiness would ruin it. But here, in this moment, we can think them. We can explain them with our bodies. How he’s my sun, my warmth, my guiding star. My East.

How I’m his soul, his purpose, his love. His Hart.

We take each other’s breath and give it back until we’re one unit, one heart, one body. It’s erotic and intoxicating—a high that I never want to come down from. But he catches me as I spiral out of control. He clasps me against his broad chest, his warm arms gathering me close, whispering that he’ll never let me go, never stop loving me, never, never, never, never.





Chapter 30





Hartley





After the most thrilling night of my life, I thought I’d be on cloud nine the next morning. But breakfast is kind of a gloomy affair. Everyone meets in the kitchen, eating various protein shakes, oatmeal and cereals prepared by their cook, Sandra. The lady is in her mid-fifties and is back after an extended vacation caring for her newly born grandchild. Ella and I set the table while the boys stagger down in stages. Sebastian is first. He takes one look at me, curses, grabs a smoothie and disappears. Sawyer is next. I expect him to follow his brother’s path, but he takes a serving of oatmeal from the housekeeper and sits down at the breakfast table that overlooks the massive back lawn, pool, and ocean beyond.

With only about five minutes before we leave, Easton arrives.

“He’s perpetually late,” Ella murmurs.

We join Sawyer at the table. “He’s cute, so I guess he can get away with it.”

“He’s right here,” Easton grouses, dropping his hot self into the chair next to mine.

“He’s not a morning person, huh?” I ask Ella.

“Not really. When I first moved in, I thought he’d make a good vampire since he stays up all night and sleeps during the day.”

“If you want to know the truth,” I lower my voice, “I haven’t seen his chest in the sunlight so it’s possible.”

“Seriously. Right. Fucking. Here.”

“I have,” Ella declares. She points her spoon toward the pool. “And I’m sad to report there is no glitter going on.”

“That could change. I’ve got this badass eyeshadow called Glitter Bomb and we could brush it on his pecs.”