6. Lennon
LENNON
Five Months Ago
M addox hovers over me like a dark and dangerous god. His black ink stretches over stacked, corded muscles I want to trace with my tongue. And suddenly, I can’t think of anything but this man’s weight on me.
At least not until he rolls a condom down his enormous cock with a deliciously filthy look in his eyes. Because why would this man be blessed with anything less than a monster cock? Sweet Jesus. He was always going to ruin me, but I’m a little concerned he might actually break me.
He drags his dick through my soaked pussy, teasing me until I’m trembling and aching and pleading for him. “Maddox... Please...”
His lips tip up into a sexy, crooked smile, completely pleased with my frustration, and I whimper desperately. “I gotta make sure you’re ready for me.”
That velvety voice grows raspy with each wicked word, and my pussy pulses with the need to be filled. “I’m ready,” I pant and drop my legs open. “Please, please , please.”
He leans down and drags his tongue up the length of my pussy, and I shake and scream until he crawls up my body and covers my mouth with his. Our tongues dance a wicked dance. Each stroke intensifies my need until I’m teetering on the sharp edge of a sword disguised as my sanity. Unsure how much more I can take but more than willing to follow him to the ends of the earth to push my limits.
Maddox wraps strong, thick, deliciously calloused fingers around my neck and presses down the tiniest fraction. Not cutting off my airway but slowing it, leaving me at his mercy. Lost in the moment. Lost in him.
“Eyes on me, principessa . I’ll try to be gentle.”
I drape my arms around his strong shoulders and stare into his eyes. “Don’t be.”
As if something snaps inside my dark prince, a deep, visceral sound works its way up his chest as he pushes the head of his cock deep inside me, and what little breath I have left leaves me in a whoosh.
Pain sears, threatening to split me in half as Maddox dominates my mouth, whispering words of worship between every taste. Every touch. Until the pain subsides and the pleasure warms me. Until I can’t think of anything but us, but this, but how much more I want. “So fucking beautiful, baby. Breathe, Lennon.”
Only then does he finally move. Slowly pulling out, dragging his cock along every inch of my sensitive sex until he’s pushing back in again even slower.
Until I’m gasping and moaning.
Until agony battles ecstasy for control.
Ecstasy wins.
Maddox owns my body, bending it to his will.
Grinding into me.
Slowly. Sensually.
Until my tense muscles relax and the painful stretch turns to scorching-hot pleasure.
With each new inch, I melt against him, begging for more.
Soothingly sexy words kiss my lips as I dig my nails into his shoulders.
Dying to get him deeper.
Clawing to get him closer.
Because I still need more... I want it all ... Everything.
What I wouldn’t give if it meant I could keep him.
“Stay with me, Lennon,” he growls, sensing my warring thoughts. His hand tightens on my throat and lights up my soul as he finally seats himself fully inside me, and we both suck in a breath with the absolute perfection of the moment. Of us.
He releases my throat and moves his hold to my face. To my jaw. Holding me hostage while our tongues dance a savage duet. His hips snap against mine, and I moan, loud and long, dragging my nails down his muscled back until I’m gripping the strong, powerful globes of his ass. Urging him on. Needing him impossibly deeper.
“Maddox...”
“Fuck, Lennon.” His lips pepper my jaw. My neck. My collarbones. Until he dips down and licks a lazy circle around my nipple, and my back bows off the bed.
Electricity courses through me, and I pull him closer— deeper —as he sets a punishing rhythm. With every strong thrust of his hips, his incredible body owns mine. Fucking me harder and harder until I’m not sure where he stops and I start. Until I’m not sure I can take any more. Until I’m chasing a high I’ve never felt.
Only then do his hands slide under me and grip my ass. Lifting me. Holding me. Changing the angle and driving into me again and again until my vision dims, and all I see is him.
“Tell me you’re mine, Lennon.” Maddox’s brilliant blue eyes burn like an electric flame as they lock on mine.
I crash my mouth to his, giving him all of me and the only answer I have to give.
“Yours,” I whisper, both of us knowing it’s the truth wrapped in a vicious, cruel lie.
Intense and overwhelming and threatening to destroy us both.
I’m back on that sword’s edge, balancing.
“Yours,” I whisper again as he fucks into me over and over.
It’s heaven and hell.
Purity doused in lies.
But even if only for tonight, I’m his...
“ Mia principessa ...” he whispers, and a beautiful flame erupts, burning blue in his eyes.
I gasp his name on a silent scream as my body tenses, and my orgasm washes over me, warm and heavy, drowning me as I cling to him.
Giving me life and taking it away in one moment frozen in time.
My dark prince tenses as he follows me over the cliff with my name falling from his lips, a sacred benediction. One I know I’ll hear every time I close my eyes in my daydreams and nightmares.
We fall to the bed, a tangle of limbs, heavy breaths, and heavier thoughts. No space between us until Maddox climbs out of bed and gets rid of the condom. He comes back with a warm washcloth, bringing a silent tear to my eye. No one would ever believe how kind and gentle this man can be, but with me... he’s never shown me any other side.
And once he climbs back into bed, I pull him down to me, needing to feel his weight again. I run my nails through his thick, dark hair and hum until he relaxes and eventually begins to doze off. “Don’t leave, Lennon.”
His words are whispered. Barely spoken. But they’re there. And they break my heart.
Because I can’t give him that.
Even if he’s given me this.
“I’ll be here when you wake up, my prince,” I whisper back.
* * *
I keep my promise.
I’m still here when Maddox wakes up, and we woke up a lot last night.
I mean... technically, we woke up a few times this morning too.
I laugh at my own joke as I walk into his closet to grab myself a shirt. I’m not sure what time he got out of bed, but he kissed me and told me he had to take Meatball for a walk. That was exactly one red-hot shower ago, and my heavens, did it feel good. I considered waiting for him, but honestly, I’m a professional ballerina at the peak of my profession, and somehow, muscles I didn’t know I had hurt. Not necessarily in a bad way, but in a I need a little break way. I search through his closet until I find a pile of neatly folded West End t-shirts and slide one on before I make my way to the kitchen in search of a cup of tea and maybe a slice of toast. I don’t remember the last time I ate. Oops.
Each step I take reminds me of exactly how many times we woke up last night, and I smile as I step into the kitchen, then scream.
“Fuck!” one of two huge men yells back at me while the other smiles.
I scream again, and the fucker glares. “Christ, woman. Shut up.”
My eyes dart around the kitchen, searching for a knife or a phone before the door slams open, and Maddox and Meatball rush in.
He glares at the men and cups my face, looking completely unfazed. “You okay?”
I try to focus on him but can’t tear my eyes away from the laughing twat leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand. They’re both tall, dark, and almost as handsome as the man currently holding me. That’s when I see it. The resemblance. “Let me guess... these must be your brothers?”
“Ohh,” the shorter of the two mocks me. “She’s British.”
I growl.
Yes, I may have spent the last decade in London, but I also spent the majority of my early childhood in a boarding school in Switzerland. My accent is weak at best, and I am neither British nor Swiss. I consider myself a citizen of Mornea or possibly Elwyn. Maybe both. But calling me British is like calling Americans Canadians or vice versa. We don’t appreciate it. But I don’t bother arguing because something tells me it would simply fall on deaf ears.
I shake my head and slide further behind Maddox, hoping to block the shorter one’s view of my legs, because he’s leering, and I won’t be held responsible for kneeing him in the nuts if he looks any harder.
First, he calls me British, then he acts like a lech.
That’s two strikes against him already.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Maddox groans.
The tall one smiles. “Seeing if you want to go a few rounds at Crucible.” He bounces on his toes like an excited child. “Got a couple of inches of snow last night, so the gym should be almost empty.”
“Looks like you’re busy though. You gonna introduce us?” He lifts his chin toward Maddox, and I pull at the hem of my t-shirt, wishing I’d put my dress back on.
Maddox turns and looks at me, as if to ask permission.
Well, okay then. I step around him and enjoy the way Maddox keeps his grip possessively on my hip as I offer the tall one my hand and force a smile. “Lennon.”
He takes my hand in his and grins back at me. “Rome. Nice to meet you, Lennon.”
“Ahh... the middle brother,” I muse, thinking of the stories I’ve been told.
“Wait,” snaps the one I’m assuming is the baby of the family, Lucky. “Lennon. Like Gracie’s roommate, Lennon? The princess?”
Lovely. So much for staying under the radar.
“Yes. But I’d appreciate it if you could keep that quiet, please.”
“Don’t tell anyone she’s here, or I swear to God, I’ll rip your arm from its socket and beat you to death with the bloody end,” Maddox threatens in disgustingly graphic detail.
“What the fuck is up with you banging princesses, brother?” Lucky asks, and Rome coughs and looks away while I tilt my head and study the youngest Beneventi, attempting to decipher his words.
“I’m sorry.” I step out of Maddox’s hold. “What?”
“Fuck,” Rome mutters, and Lucky’s smile grows.
“First the Elwyn princess and now you.” He shrugs like he didn’t just blindside me, and I have an overwhelming urge to wrap my hands around the collar of his shirt and shake him, size be damned. I’ve got adrenaline on my side because right now, I feel murderous. “I am the Elwyn princess.”
Rome shakes his head slowly, and bile fills my throat.
“Nah... the other one.”
The room spins as I close my eyes.
No.
This is not happening.
I have two girl cousins in Elwyn. The heir to the throne and?—
“Lennon—” Maddox reaches for me, but I sidestep him.
“Please tell me you didn’t,” I plead with quiet fury, but the answer is right there in front of me. It’s in his eyes. “My cousin?”
“Lennon—” He grabs my shoulder, but I shake him off before I realize I didn’t just shake him off. My entire body is shaking with rage.
“You slept with my cousin?” I repeat, begging him to lie to me. “Oh my God. I’m going to be sick.”
“ Principessa ,” he murmurs as I walk past him, and the two clowns behind me suck in simultaneous breaths.
“Don’t,” I warn him. “Don’t call me that.”
The doorbell rings, and I take the chance to slip into the powder room and lock the door before I scream like a maniac in front of all three of them.
I stare at the reflection in the mirror and don’t recognize the person staring back at me.
There was no way this weekend was going to have a fairytale ending. But this...?
This is like a Brothers Grimm fairytale.
And I played my part, like a fool.
* * *
Present day
“A nd then what?” Atticus asks from next to me on the floor.
I think back to that day... to everything we said and everything we didn’t.
To the hurt in Maddox’s eyes and the heartbreak that had to be reflected in mine.
And I look at my brother, no longer lost in the memory. Just drained from it.
“I left. The doorbell was Maria. She’d agreed not to tell Dad because she knew she was hopping on a plane to get to me. Maddox may have saved me the night before, but Maria saved me that day. In twenty-four hours, I was saved more than I ever had been in twenty-five years.” I drop my head to my hands, more nauseated than I was finding out Maddox had slept with my cousin. “Who’s going to save me now, Atticus?”
“Oh, there’s no saving you from this, little sister. You’ve screwed the pooch this time. And that dirty dog is a mob prince. Definitely not the kind of royal you’re allowed to marry.” He stretches his legs out in front of us and crosses one over the other, then pushes up to his feet and holds his hands out for me. “Come on. Up you go.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I whine but take his hands and let him pull me up. “Dad and Rhys are going to kill me.” My chest tightens, and anxiety clogs my throat. “And oh my God... Grandfather. What is Grandfather going to say?”
“The king is going to lose his shit,” Atticus announces excitedly, like he’s watching some ridiculous soap opera and not talking about my life. “Oh, please let me be there when you tell him.”
“Oh my God, I hate you.” I drop his hand and storm into my kitchen, slamming cabinets as I search for the chocolate bar I hid a few weeks ago. “This is serious. I’m supposed to marry Monty in what—nine months?”
Atticus laughs, and I throw an apple at his head.
“What?” he asks as he ducks. “Come on. Nine months? Kind of poetic, if you think about it.”
I open the fridge and yank out the produce drawer, and there, under a questionably old bag of celery, is my chocolate bar.
I found you, you little wanker.
When I slam the door shut, Atticus is looking at me with a worried gaze. “We’ll figure it out, okay? No need to go commando on the apple. I don’t need one of your guards rushing in here to save you and accidentally shooting me. This face was not meant for scars, little sister.”
I break off a piece of dark-chocolate goodness and close my eyes.
Pregnant.
There’s not enough chocolate in the world to make this okay.