Page 92 of Royal Crush

“I mean, if we live on a yacht and don’t bother with land and all those ridiculous hills and stairs?—”

He cupped my cheek, cutting me off. “Kiss me.”

I did. It was so easy to give in to him, to press our bodies together and let him show me in little ways that he owned me in all the ways I wanted to be owned. He’d show me with his mouth and hands later too—drawing me to the edge and back until I felt like I was losing my mind.

But for now, there was this. The softness I needed. The steady ballast of his beating heart resting in his chest. Some days, I felt bitter and angry that I’d spent so many years without him. I felt cheated out of having firsts with him that belonged to people who didn’t deserve them.

But it was hard to dwell when I was like this.

“We’ll figure it out,” he eventually said. “I’ve been living in the past for too long and fantasizing about the future. I finally have a chance to enjoy right now.”

“With me?”

He met my gaze and smiled, then drew me in for a last kiss. “Always with you. And nothing will ever change that.”

I was still a pessimistic man who would always wait for the other shoe to drop, but when Camillo had me in his arms, I knew that even if it fell, he would protect me from the pain. And that was all I could ever ask.

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