Page 51 of King of Lies
“Why the fuck not?” he asks with no heat to his voice and a smile on his face.
“Because they know!”
“Darling, I’ve asked you to marry me,” he says. “I think they know.”
“They might have wondered, but now theyknowknow!” I explain.
“I think they’d have at least figured it out by the time our first child was born, don’t you?” he laughs.
“Child?” I gasp. “You want to have babies?”
“Well, yeah,” he says. “Don’t you?”
“I’ve never put a lot of thought into it, as if it were an option!” I snap. “I never had a boyfriend before you.”
“No?” he asks.
“No!” I groan. “You know that you were my … um … first.”
“And I’ll bloody well be your last,” he growls.
“Well … yes … in theory.”
“In theory?” he snaps.
“I mean if we do get married—”
“Why wouldn’t we?” he asks.
“I don’t know, things happen. Something could come up …”
“Like what? The fall of fucking communism?” he barks.
“Rhys—”
“Hen, nothing short of a third world war, or a complete collapse of the global infrastructure, or me being horribly maimed in a car accident, leaving my cock no longer functioning would have me not marrying you, and even then, I’m sure I could find a way.”
“You could find a way?” I repeat.
“Stella, with you, there’s nothing that would stop me from keeping you. I’m fairly sure that even if my dick fell off it would find a way to be hard for you.”
“That’s … descriptive …”
“And accurate,” he says, taking my hand and placing it over his hard length. “So now, do you want breakfast, or shall I prove it to you?”
“Prove it to me,” I whisper, and then he rolls me to my back and settles between my legs. And when he slides deep inside me, he proves to me, without a doubt, that he really wants me.
But his cock doesn’t have to fall off to show it.
• • •
After Rhys finishes making love to me, he places a hard kiss on my lips and climbs from the bed. I watch as he steps into his dress pants from last night, muttering to himself about how he needs to have his clothes moved down here, then he pulls me from the bed and wraps a lush robe around me before bustling me into the sitting room to share my breakfast with him.
It turns out, Niamh wasn’t lying when she said there was enough to share. The tray is heavy with eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, tomatoes and mushrooms, as well as scones and jam. Never in a million years could I eat all that food.
It makes me wonder if maybe Niamh already knew that Rhys was in my bed and would likely be hungry after last night’s activities. I really will never be able to look her in the eyes again.
Rhys sits next to me and fills our cups with coffee from a silver service while I plate up food from both plates. He throws his head back and laughs when I pointedly load up all of the black sausage onto his plate along with the rest of his meal and hand it to him.
