Page 153 of Shameless Royalty

Connor presses a hand against my stomach, pinning me down. “Watch that mouth, baby,” he warns, his tone dark and teasing. “Unless you wanna give me a reason to put it to better use.”

I glare down at him, but whatever retort I have dies in my throat when he swallows me down again, his throat tightening around me as he takes me deeper. I choke on a moan, my hands flying to his hair, my fingers tightening in the messy blond strands.

“Fuck, Connor—feels so good—”

His groan sends another jolt of pleasure through me, his mouth working me over like he’s got all the time in the world. His pace is relentless now, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks me down, his tongue flicking and teasing just enough to keep me on edge, working me over like he’s got all the time in the world.

I don’t stand a chance.

My back arches, my vision whites out, and I cry out as I fall apart, my whole body shaking as I spill down his throat. He groans like he fucking loves it, swallowing everything I give him, his grip unrelenting as he holds me down through every shuddering wave of pleasure.

When I finally come down, I’m boneless, gasping for breath, and he pulls back with a smug fucking smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Messy thing,” he mutters, crawling back up my body and pressing his lips against my temple. “Can’t believe you’re already this wrecked and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

I groan, my face burning, and he just chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist like he already knows I’m not going anywhere.

I lay draped across Connor’s chest, my cheek pressed against his warm skin, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It’s calming in a way nothing else is, chasing away the stress that’s been tightening my chest for weeks now.

Exams are killing me, the workload at Willow Bridge is heavier than anything I’ve faced before. I’m not failing, but fuck—there’s so much pressure to perform and prove myself.

Connor seemed to sense it the second he walked into my dorm earlier, eyes narrowing as he took in my exhausted expression and tense shoulders.

Without a word, he swept in and distracted me so thoroughly I forgot my own name, much less the exams. My body aches pleasantly now, limbs heavy and sated, mind blissfully blank.

Connor’s fingers trace gentle patterns along my spine, soothing and warm. I sigh softly, relaxing further into him, letting his warmth and strength ease away the lingering tension in my muscles.

Three months of this—three months of Connor showing me in a hundred little ways that he meant every promise he made. That he loves me, that he wants me.

He’s more than proven himself, and yet I still catch myself thinking about everything he’s sacrificed and how much he’s changed his life for me. It feels surreal sometimes—this dangerous, powerful man choosing me, of all people.

“You okay, Babyface?” he murmurs softly into my hair, his voice low and gentle, like he knows I’m lost in thought again. He always seems to know exactly what’s on my mind without me having to say a word.

“Yeah,” I whisper, tracing lazy circles on his bare chest. “Just thinkin’.”

His chest rumbles beneath me as he chuckles quietly. “You’re always thinkin’ too damn much. Told you, let me worry about things for a bit.”

I smile faintly, lifting my head slightly to look at him. His blond hair is messy from my fingers, his green eyes soft in the dim lighting. He looks impossibly relaxed and content, and awarmth swells in my chest just seeing him this way. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to.”

He cups my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone gently. “You’re doin’ fine, baby. You’ve got this. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

I nod slowly, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just… wanna get through this without losin’ my damn mind.”

Connor’s lips quirk into a gentle smile. “And you will. I’ve got you.”

The sincerity in his voice settles the anxious flutter in my chest, and I lean down, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. He sighs contentedly, pulling me closer again, tucking my head beneath his chin as his fingers continue their lazy path down my spine.

“Speaking of stress,” he says, his voice vibrating softly against my cheek, “you remember we’re going to Giovanni’s wedding next month, right?”

I tense up instinctively at the reminder. Giovanni Basile—one of Connor’s closest friends and fellow Crowns—is marrying Chiara, and, naturally, we’re both invited. But the thought of attending such a high-profile event alongside Connor, openly and publicly… it’s intimidating as fuck.

“Yeah,” I murmur quietly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I remember.”

Connor chuckles gently, sensing my nerves immediately. “You’ll be fine, baby. Everyone already loves you, and it’s gonna be fuckin’ great. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” I grumble softly, fingers tracing aimless patterns along his chest. “You’re used to all this fancy shit. I’m not.”

He tilts my chin up gently, meeting my gaze firmly. “Malachi, you belong there as much as I do. You’re with me. And anyone who’s got a problem with that can fuck right off.”

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