Prince

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Prince Page 34

by Cambria Hebert


  “I think you like it too.” He spoke, and I followed his stare down my stiffening length.

  “You have no idea,” I practically groaned.

  Before I knew what he was doing, he was back in my lap, angling my cock against his hole and sinking down in one smooth motion.

  I fell back against the headboard, shivering as he sheathed me with his body. He was still warm and pliant, his body still slick from the lube and my release.

  With a sigh of contentment, he leaned forward, tucking his arms between us, cheek on my shoulder. “You’re right. I feel safe like this.”

  My heart felt bruised under that soft concession. How anyone could make me feel equal parts of love and lust, I might never understand. “You’re always safe with me.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed. “Being this close puts me at ease.”

  My hips thrust up, making our breathing catch. He was so warm and welcoming, so accepting of everything I gave. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Giddiness ran through my heart, and for the first time in my life, I felt truly whole. “I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing pieces of myself until you came and filled them.”

  “I always knew I had missing pieces,” Fletcher replied, making me realize I’d spoken out loud. “I never expected anyone to love me.”

  How could anyone not love him?

  “I don’t want you to see her anymore,” I declared, the words just bursting right out. Despite my obvious arousal, it was clear I couldn’t just forget about what we’d been talking about. It had taken Fletcher so long to open up even just a little. I still had more to say.

  He went rigid against me. Between us, his fingers curled in.

  “But she’s my mother,” he whispered, vulnerability making his voice weak.

  A flash of a memory of Earth and Fletcher arguing outside the police station came over me, and I realized this was likely a fight Fletcher had before.

  But I didn’t want a fight, and despite how dominant I sometimes could be over him, I did not seek to control his life.

  “Fletcher.”

  His silence was clear.

  But what broke me down was that despite his clear unhappiness with my request, he was still on top of me. I was still inside him. He made no move to pull away.

  It gave me an inkling of hope. It made the trust he had for me palpable because maybe, just maybe, he understood I was speaking out of love.

  Brushing my fingers through his hair, I spoke. “Family doesn’t get a free pass, puppy. No one does. I know she’s your mother, and I know that makes her your family. But sharing blood with someone doesn’t give them the right to treat you like this. And sadly, sharing blood doesn’t automatically equal love. You don’t have to endure her abuse. It’s your life. Your choice. You don’t have to allow her in. You can walk away. They say you can’t pick your family, but I think you can. You get to choose who you allow in your life, and I love you so much. I only want good people around you. People who won’t hurt you.”

  Silence fell between us, and so did something damp.

  A tear.

  He was crying.

  A hollow ache settled in my stomach as I wrapped my arms around him. I wasn’t sorry for the things I said because I’d meant them. When I thought about what he endured his entire life, I wanted to find that witch and make her pay.

  But I couldn’t because that would hurt him too.

  “Your parents have each other. If I leave, she’ll be all alone.” His voice was small.

  My heart tightened. He was so… pure. How he could still have love, empathy, for a woman who did nothing but abuse him all his life was almost unimaginable.

  It just proved how beautiful his soul truly was.

  “Maybe you’ll both be free.”

  After a while, he said, “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t have to know right now. And whatever decision you make, I will support you. I won’t get mad. I won’t yell, and I won’t leave.”

  He lifted his head. His cheeks were damp. “Really?”

  Chest caving in, I wiped the wetness away, hoping he could see every ounce of love I felt in my gaze. “It’s your choice, and I love you no matter what. Thank you for listening to my point of view.”

  A small smile lit up his face.

  “Can you promise me something, though?”

  Smile dimming, wariness crept into his eyes. “What?”

  “The next time you go see her, don’t go alone.”

  He frowned, clearly not expecting this request. “I don’t want you to see where I came from.”

  “I don’t care where you came from.”

  He made a face. “That’s easy to say when you’re rich.”

  “Fletcher.” I warned.

  His teeth sank into his lower lip, and then his hips rotated. Pleasure distracted me, momentarily making me forget my thoughts.

  When awareness washed back in, I scowled. “Are you trying to distract me?”

  He giggled.

  “You little brat,” I growled, flipping us so I was pressing him into the mattress.

  His chin lifted, asking for his favorite thing.

  I pulled back, arching a brow. “Promise me.”

  The playfulness left his eyes. His lip jutted out in a pout. “I won’t.”

  “It doesn’t have to be me,” I said, though the allowance cost me some peace of mind. “You can take one of your brothers. Even if they wait outside. Just don’t go alone. If she hurts you, I can’t guarantee what I will do.”

  He thought it over a minute, then nodded.

  I smiled, feeling much lighter than before. “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Wanna pinky swear?”

  He shook his head and puckered his lips.

  “Kiss monster,” I teased, dipping my head and giving him a hell of a lot more than a single kiss.

  41

  Fletcher

  * * *

  The entire kitchen was filled with the scent of cinnamon, maple, and vanilla. The earthy sweetness of the syrup and the savory melted butter swirled together on my tongue, mushing together with fluffy pillows of the homemade breakfast Jane had generously set in front of me.

  I gasped, closing my lips just before any of this good bite fell out.

  “Is something wrong, Master Fletcher?” Jane asked, turning from across the kitchen.

  Lowering his coffee, Ethan eyed me with mild concern.

  “I just realized something!” I punctuated the announcement with the shake of my fork.

  Ethan’s smile was amused. “And what is that?”

  “Waffles are much more considerate than pancakes.”

  Jane’s light laughter rang up toward the ceiling, and Ethan’s smile turned into a full-on grin.

  “Do tell,” Jane prompted, pulling another perfectly shaped waffle from the iron she was using. I didn’t know that you needed an iron to make waffles. I thought you just got them in the freezer section at the grocery store.

  “Well, when you pour syrup on a pancake, it slides right off and goes all over the plate. But waffles, they have little cups! They hold the syrup for you.” Jabbing my fork into a new bite, I shoved it into my mouth and sighed. “It’s like the perfect bite every single time!”

  “That is much more considerate,” Ethan mused.

  I brought a bite up to his lips. He went to shake his head, but I huffed. “It’s only one bite. Your perfect abs won’t even notice.”

  Eyes twinkling, his lips parted, and I pushed the bite into his mouth. He chewed, and I knew the moment the flavors burst over his tongue because his eyes rolled back a little.

  “See? Perfect.”

  “Much better than egg whites and vegetables.”

  I held up another bite. He pursed his lips. I batted my eyes, and he surrendered. Giddy, I licked the syrup off the fork, watching him chew.

  “When my abs disappear, I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

 
“Like I’d complain about any part of your body. It’s perfect.” I fussed, turning back to my food.

  A poignant pause crowded the room, and I looked up. Jane was staring at us. A flaming blush rushed to my cheeks. I’d forgotten she was there.

  I didn’t dare look at Ethan, worried he would be upset. His throat cleared, and I set down my fork. But before he spoke, he ran a hand over the back of my head, flooding away my worries with reassurance.

  “Jane, I think I should make it clear that Fletcher is not just a friend. For lack of a better term, he’s my boyfriend. When he stays here, it’s not in the guest bedroom. In fact, he’s going to be moving in.”

  I gasped. “What?”

  Ethan glanced at me, unbothered. “You stay here every night anyway. Might as well make it official.”

  “But I already have a home.”

  His eyes flashed. “A couch is not a home.”

  I made a face. He is never going to let that go. “You didn’t even ask me,” I muttered, staring down at my lap. Did he think he could just tell me what to do and I’d do it?

  Reaching over, he grasped the edge of the stool I sat on, the legs made a screeching sound when he dragged me right up beside him.

  “Fletcher,” he sang, voice soft and sweet. It was the exact tone that always melted me, the tone that only he had ever used with me.

  Don’t cave, Fletcher! Don’t cave!

  “I love you, and I want you here with me all the time. I don’t want this to be my home anymore but ours. Will you move in with me?”

  My heart was thundering. My ears felt hot. And the waffle I had just eaten was jumping around in my stomach like it was on a trampoline. Truth was this already felt like my home. Anywhere Ethan was felt that way. Don’t cave! “What about Gwen?”

  “Gwen already lives here.”

  “How much is rent?”

  He made a sound. “I own this place. I don’t even pay rent.”

  “I can’t just live here for free.”

  “It’s not free.”

  I sucked in a breath, finally looking up to meet his eyes. Why did they have to be so blue? “Then what’s the cost?”

  “Your heart.”

  My lips pressed together. I did my very best to hold in the giggle and my smile. “You already have that.”

  Ethan leaned close, so close our noses practically bumped. “Then I guess you’re qualified.”

  I nodded.

  He drew back, hope sparking in his eyes. “Is that a yes?”

  “Okay.”

  Without even getting up, he swooped forward, pulling me from the stool to transfer me into his lap. He leaned in to kiss me, but this time, I remembered Jane.

  “Jane!” I yelled before he could make contact.

  Ethan straightened, looking to where Jane stood. “I understand this may change things. You may not want to be employed by—”

  “Posh!” She cut him off, waving a spatula in front of us. “I knew about you two from the minute I met this one,” she said, pointing at me.

  “You did?” I asked, surprised. “Are you psychic?”

  She laughed. “No, I just have eyes.”

  “So you’ll stay on?” Ethan asked.

  “Who else will make waffles in the mornings and help take care of Gwen?”

  Gwennie really liked Jane.

  “Thank you,” Ethan said, his arms tightening a bit around my middle. “I, ah, I appreciate your professionalism.”

  She made a rude sound. “Ethan Abbott, of all the things. After all these years, this isn’t even about professionalism. I thought we were at least friends.”

  “Family!” I exclaimed. “Jane is family.”

  Her gaze turned a little sentimental, and she smiled at me. “Such a sweet boy.” She looked at Ethan. “Much better than any of these well-to-do hoity-toities in the Upper East Side.”

  “What’s a hoity-toity?” I wondered.

  “Family,” Ethan said softly. Then, “I’ll give you a raise. After all, there will be more to manage here with more than me in residence.”

  “My considerate pancake is getting cold.” I worried, staring longingly at my plate.

  Ethan laughed, and Jane pushed the plate in front of me. “Eat up. You need all the energy you can get for your performance tonight.”

  Nerves coiled in my stomach, but I ate anyway because it was too good to waste.

  After breakfast, Ethan went to change, and I played in the living room with Gwennie. She was already looking a little bigger, and her ribs didn’t stick out as much. The vet we took her to said she was fine, she just needed to gain some weight, and then he poked her with a bunch of needles.

  I laughed when she leaped on the string I dragged across the floor and then again when she abandoned it to pounce on a ball with a bell in the center.

  Ethan stepped into the living room, stealing my attention with the way he looked. He wore a fitted suit jacket in some kind of small plaid pattern in the colors of gray, navy, and black. Under the open jacket was some kind of black button-up sweater with a low, gray-trimmed neckline that showed off a black and white polka-dot tie. The pristine white collar of his dress shirt seemed to make his skin appear sun-kissed, and his blond hair was brushed off his forehead but still looked a little mussed.

  The black pants he wore were fitted, and I stared at his lean hips and the way the belt hugged his waist. The left lapel of his jacket held a gold and red pin, and a white and black patterned handkerchief poked out of the pocket.

  I glanced down at the Spider-Man T-shirt and jeans I was wearing. We really didn’t match at all. In fact, I wondered what he saw in me.

  He made a sound, cutting off my thoughts. “I love you just the way you are. I have to dress like this for work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You look like this all the time.”

  “Would you prefer I dress another way?”

  “No! I would never ask you to change. I love you the way you are.” It still felt funny to say the L-word, but the way his eyes lit up when I did made it much easier.

  My body bumped against his, my hands curling into the lush fabric of his fancy jacket when he pulled me into his body. His eyes glowed, drawing me in as if he’d cast some sort of spell upon me. “And I love you the way you are.”

  The low timbre of his voice brushed over my nerve endings, making them fizzle, making my stomach dip. I felt a blush bloom over my cheeks, and even though I really wanted to, I couldn’t look away.

  “Don’t I embarrass you?”

  He blinked, evaporating the spell instantly, leaving me floating away like whatever tethered me had suddenly snapped. A small purr vibrated the back of my throat when his large hands curled around my hips, anchoring me against him, grounding me once more. “You could never embarrass me, Fletcher. Not ever.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” His fingertips squeezed my hips. “Clothes do not make the man. His heart does.”

  “Even in your world?”

  “In our world, you have the most beautiful heart of anyone I have ever known. What you have,” he said, pointing his finger against my heart, “is something that no amount of money can buy. And something not many are even born with.”

  “My heart isn’t that impressive.”

  “Oh, but it is.” He assured me. “To be honest, I wonder how it’s stayed so pure and loving considering everything you’ve endured.”

  “It’s probably the music.”

  His brows furrowed. “The music?”

  “Mm.” I agreed, pulling away to lift Gwennie into my arms. “Whenever things got really bad, sometimes I would feel music inside me, and it would give me hope.”

  Ethan watched me a moment, a funny expression in his eyes. Then he nodded. “The sound of your soul.”

  “Huh?”

  Gwennie’s claws dug into my shirt, stabbing me in the chest, making me wince.

  Ethan took the kitten out of my arms, tucking her into his. He was so big and broad, dressed bo
ldly in his suit, but I couldn’t help but smile as he held the tiny, squirming kitten.

  “When I heard you in the park that day, I felt like I was listening to your soul.”

  I didn’t really know what to say, so I said nothing at all.

  “Tell Gwen bye,” E said, holding her out for me to pet.

  “Bye,” I echoed, patting her head. Ethan set her down beside her toys and caught my hand. “Come on. You’re due at Ivory’s, and I’m due at the office.”

  Despite the fact that he had to get to the office, he insisted on walking me up to Ivory’s door.

  “I still don’t know why they need almost the entire day to dress me for tonight,” I whined as we walked down the corridor toward her massive front door.

  The guard glanced our way, then away, probably recognizing us.

  “I know I said clothes don’t make the man, and it’s true. But sometimes in business, appearances do matter.”

  I nodded, understanding. “Your parents will be there, right? I’ll be sure to dress nice.”

  He halted, turning to face me. “I did not ask Ivory to get you a suit because of my parents.”

  “Well, that’s good because your parents don’t like me. It won’t matter what I wear.”

  “Puppy—”

  I held up a hand. “Don’t bother telling me I’m wrong, E. My own father hated me so much he left before I was even born.”

  His eyes widened, then narrowed into half-moon shapes. “He left?”

  I nodded. “He hated me so much he left. My mom was so angry I chased him away and she was stuck with me.”

  “Fletcher, this is not true.”

  I frowned. “It is. She’s told me that more times than I can count.”

  “Listen to me,” he said, quiet yet urgent, his fingers firmly grasping my shoulders through my coat. “He couldn’t possibly have hated you—a baby who wasn’t even born yet. Maybe he was afraid or—” His lips pressed together into a fine line. I saw the unspoken words in his eyes, felt that he was holding back.

  “Or what?” I demanded.

  “Or maybe it was your mother who drove him away.” He finished, eyes flashing with something I couldn’t quite call anger. Whatever it was made my stomach hurt and made me wish Ethan would never look at me that way. “In any case, he couldn’t have been much of a man if he did flee that damnable woman and leave behind his defenseless child.”

 

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