Page 93 of American Queen (New Camelot Trilogy 1)
“And then you proposed to him again?” I ask, trying to figure out what happened next.
Ash lets go of my waist and rubs his forehead with his thumb. “After Jenny died. That night Morgan took me to the club and had me flog her, I left and I went straight to Embry. He gave me so much that night, more than any person should have to give another, because I unleashed it all on him. My grief, my pain, this new sister that was also his sister whom also I’d fucked…I was a tornado. And he welcomed me.”
I pull his hand away from his forehead so I can see his eyes. My touch stirs him; he shifts in the chair and meets my stare again. “He wanted to keep us secret again. Merlin wanted it to be secret. But it was legal now and I didn’t fucking care about the election—but I did care about him. Five months ago, I asked him to marry me again. I thought for sure this time…” He trails off and gives me a watery smile. “Well. The best laid plans and all that. And then I saw you in that church a few weeks later and it felt like fate. I wanted to see you, and the moment I told Embry about it, he volunteered to help me. I thought he wanted to make amends for rejecting my ring a second time…of course, now I know better. He wanted to see you.”
“Oh God, Ash,” I say, my chest hurting for him. This incredible man who’d been rejected twice by the person he loves.
“Greer, I’m—I’m not telling you this so that you feel like you were in any way a second choice. You know that I love you, that I’ve been obsessed with you for years. But I just want you to know that what I had with Embry was serious to me. It was the realest thing I’d ever felt until I finally had you. I didn’t kiss him because I wanted to hurt you, I kissed him because even though he’s broken my heart twice in ten years, I still think he looks beautiful in the winter moonlight. Because sometimes I think I might literally die from wanting to feel his lips on mine.”
A few heavy minutes pass as snow blows against the window next to us.
“Okay,” I say in a whisper after I can’t stand the quiet any longer.
“Okay what?”
“I think I understand now. You and him. Us.”
His hand leaves my hair and traces a warm trail from behind my ear to my shoulder. “I deserve the worst, Greer, but I don’t want it. I don’t want you to leave me.”
I startle. “Who said anything about leaving?”
He frowns. “You were so angry—and with good reason—I just thought—”
“That I’d leave you? Like Embry did?”
“Yes,” he confesses.
I squeeze his hand. “I’m angry. I need to be able to be angry sometimes. I need to be able to demand answers. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to stay.” A deep breath with the next admission. “Especially because I love Embry too. He and I haven’t…please believe me, Ash, we haven’t touched since that night in Chicago.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Ash says in a voice I feel down into the pit of my stomach. “That’s something neither of you could hide from me, not face to face.”
“So what happens now?” I ask. “Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know,” he admits.
“Where do you want to go from here?”
He looks up at me, and then all of a sudden he’s standing with me in his arms and we’re walking toward the bed. He lays me gently on my back and crawls over me, brushing the hair out of my face as his hips settle into the cradle of mine. I try to stifle my moan at the feeling, but it doesn’t work.
“What else were you feeling that night?” he asks.
“What?”
“On Christmas Eve. You said your heart was breaking, but what else did you feel when you watched Embry and me? Did you feel…” his fingers dance down from my face to my breast, where my nipple hardens instantly through the soft chiffon “…curious? Did you wonder what it might feel like to be in between us? Did you wonder what it would look like to see Embry’s mouth wrapped around my dick?”
I don’t know how to answer, I don’t know which answer is best for our future or what he wants to hear, so I tell him the truth. “Yes. Yes, I was curious. I was—” Ash’s fingers are moving down to my hip now, burning warm trails through the fabric, and it’s hard to concentrate “—I was turned on.”
“Did it make you wet?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
“Are you wet right now?”
But he doesn’t wait for me to answer. He finds out for himself, and I can tell by his pleased grunt that he likes what he’s found. I spread my legs wider for him, and within a few heartbeats, he’s got his flushed erection in his fist, stroking it and kneeling up over me.
“On your stomach,” he orders. I flip over, shivering when I feel my dress dragged up over my ass, and shivering even more when I feel the fat tip of his cock against my folds. He pushes in, just the right amount of rough, and I practically purr with the sensation of his thick shaft spearing me.
He brings his body down over mine, his lips near my ear and his arm under my breasts so he can grab and squeeze all he likes. Only his hips move, deep and powerful, all muscle and deliberate, unhurried strokes.
