Page 53 of Shameless Royalty

I tilt my head, brushing my nose lightly against his cheek. “I won’t hurt you, Malachi,” I whisper and he shudders, his fingersflexing. Then he exhales and his forehead drops against my shoulder.

I hold him, feeling every breath, every tremor, every little movement he makes as he fully relaxes into me. I don’t push, I just sit there, rubbing slow circles into his back, letting him take what he needs.

I can feel the rough ridges of those marks on his back and push down my anger that someone dared to hurt him enough to leave lifelong scars. “See?” I whisper, my lips close to his ear. “Told you it’s not so bad.”

He scoffs, but it’s weak, more habit than actual defiance. “You’re so fuckin’ smug,” he mutters, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

I smirk, my hand sliding up to the nape of his neck, my fingers threading into his hair. “I’m right, though.”

He tenses slightly at the touch, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tilts his head just enough that his nose brushes against the side of my throat. It’s light—barely there—but fuck if it doesn’t send a jolt straight through me.

My fingers tighten in his hair, tugging gently, and he lets out a sharp breath. I can feel the way his body reacts, the way his hands flex against my chest like he’s trying to stop himself from wanting.

“You feel this too,” I whisper. “Don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer, but his silence says enough. I tilt my head, brushing my lips against his temple; testing, teasing. He shivers, and his hands tighten on my shirt.

“Tell me,” I breathe, my lips ghosting over his skin.

“I hate you,” he whispers, but it’s shaky like he’s not even sure he believes it himself.

I chuckle, pressing my lips lightly against his hair. “Liar.”

His breath stutters and I feel him tense again, but this time, it’s different. He’s not pulling away—he’s waiting.

So I give him what he’s waiting for.

I move slowly, giving him the chance to stop me, but he doesn’t. My hand slides from his hair to his jaw, my thumb brushing over his cheek as I push him back and tilt his face. His blue eyes flicker up to meet mine, wide and uncertain, but he doesn’t fight me.

He wants this.

I press my lips to his andfuck, it’s nothing like the kiss before. It’s not rough or punishing, not a battle of wills or a game of control. It’s real. And I swear to God, I lose a fucking piece of myself right then and there.

For a second, he freezes, his breath caught between us. Then, slowly, his fingers unclench from my shirt, moving instead to grip my shoulders. His lips part slightly, and when I deepen the kiss, he lets me.

I groan into his mouth, my grip on his jaw tightening as I pull him in closer. He tastes intoxicating, like something I didn’t know I was starving for until now.

And then he makes a sound—a quiet, almost reluctant little noise in the back of his throat—and something in me snaps.

I kiss him harder, my hand sliding down his back, gripping his waist as I shift, pressing him against me fully. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop me. He lets me, matching my movements, his body molding against mine and I feel his cock hardening through his sweats.

His fingers dig into my skin, nails scraping lightly against the back of my neck, and I feel like I’m drowning in him. I break away just long enough to catch my breath, resting my forehead against his as I inhale deeply.

“Christ,” I mutter, my voice rough.

Malachi is breathing just as heavily, his lips still parted, his hands still clutching at me. He looks dazed, completely fucking wrecked, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

“You okay?” I ask, my thumb brushing against his bottom lip.

He blinks at me like he’s still processing what just happened. Then, slowly, his fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt again, holding tight. “Do it again,” he whispers.

I don’t need to be told twice. I kiss him again, slower this time, savoring it. His lips are soft and pliant against mine, and when I slide my hand up his spine, he shudders, melting into me completely.

This isn’t a mistake. This isn’t a game. This is us.

And I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.

Chapter 27

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