Cracked Kingdom (The Royals Book 5) by Erin Watt

Author:Erin Watt [Watt, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Timeout LLC
Published: 2018-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Hartley

I don’t need any memories to know this is the best kiss I’ve ever had, and if this is to be remembered as my first kiss, I’m a lucky, lucky girl. Easton’s body is hard as a rock slab, but his mouth is beautifully tender. The way he clasps me to his chest, as if he never wants to let go, makes my heart sing.

This is why I drove here. I wasn’t seeking a place, but a person. I’d come home.

I don’t know how it happened, but he’d etched himself into my DNA. Can something like this ever be explained? Doesn’t it simply exist? Felicity had been right about one thing. I’d fallen for someone immediately. My heart knew. Just as my heart reached out to Dylan, it yearned for Easton, too.

He gasps against my mouth. The way he moves against me makes me bold.

My hands slide down to touch his furnace-hot skin under his T-shirt.

“Hart,” he whispers against my lips. I’m not sure if he’s pleading for me to stop or go on, so I push my hands up higher, marking each ridge of his abdomen and the valley between. I feel the hot, smooth skin, the hard, wide planes of his chest, and the solid, sturdy shoulders. His hips move beneath me, urgent and seeking.

I don’t know how long we would’ve gone. How many pieces of clothing would’ve come off, how many parts of his body I would’ve touched, how many of mine he would’ve kissed, because he pulls away from my mouth to bury his head in my neck.

Reluctantly, I hold him there, knowing full well that having sex at this moment would be wrong. We’re both an emotional mess. The recitation of his past misdeeds brought tears to my eyes, not because I was horrified by what he’d done but because of how much self-loathing I’d heard in them. And I suspect that there are more tales that Easton is holding back that are going to wreck me. But the blood pounding in my ears urges me to wriggle down and find out how the hard length that’s pushing into my stomach would feel in my hands.

As if he can sense my dilemma, he gently slides me off his body and scoots a couple hand spans away as if he wouldn’t be able to contain himself if he were closer.

“Your first time shouldn’t be on a cheap floor,” he says.

A gust of relief blows through me. “I haven’t had sex before?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know. We never talked about it. It wasn’t important to me. I mean, I’m no virgin. Why would I expect you to be one? You didn’t sleep with anyone at Astor, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does, actually.” The thought of walking the halls next to guys who have seen me naked was more awful than I could put into words. But the other horror I live with has to do with Easton’s brother. I swallow hard and force myself to ask, “Was the accident my fault?”

“Fuck no,” he insists.

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