Page 45 of Broken Desires
Poppy squeezes his arm, “Let’s just do it. It won’t take long.”
I send her a look filled with gratitude as they agree to help, allowing me the sexy shower I was dying to take.
Rushing back to the house, my clothes are being shed the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind me. I swiftly move toward the bathroom, anticipation building with each step.
Through the shower’s glass panel, I catch sight of her, a vision of beauty. She’s under the cascade of water, her silhouette a picture of curves and grace that I’ve come to adore. For a moment, I simply stand there, captivated by her presence, her movement, and the water tracing paths along her skin.
Quietly, I slide the door open, stepping into the warmth of the shower. My hand finds her hip, and at my touch, she jumps slightly, not having felt me enter. Quickly, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, our bodies aligning perfectly. My lips find the nape of her neck, kissing her softly, feeling her shiver at the contact.
She turns her head slightly, looking at me with a mix of surprise and inquiry. “I thought you were going to see your coach.”
“I saw Ethan on the way out. It was too perfect an opportunity to pass up,” I explain, holding her closer, the hot water enveloping us both.
Feeling her relax into me, I take the loofah from her hand, reaching for her vanilla and brown sugar shower gel. There’s something about these scents—so distinctly hers—that doesn’t truly come to life until they mingle with her skin. As I begin to lather her back, every stroke feels like a rediscovery of the connection we share, deep and intoxicating.
I love taking care of her even more than I love giving her orgasms. It’s in these moments, with her leaning back against me, eyes closed in complete trust, that I find a profound sense of fulfillment. It’s more than passion; it’s about protection, about offering her a sanctuary within my arms.
I kiss her neck again, allowing myself a fleeting dream. Maybe if this conversation goes well, I can take her with me to Copenhagen. I can let her visit the city with one of the guards to allow her to see my world. In my mind’s eye, I see her marveling at the blend of ancient and modern, the cobblestone streets, and the serene canals, all the while contemplating a future where she might come to love this city as much as I do. It’s a daring thought, full of what-ifs and maybes, but in this moment of serenity and connection, it feels within reach and…
Her soft moan breaks me out of my thoughts, and I realize I just ran the loofah over her erect nipple. I do it again, more consciously this time, and I’m once again rewarded by her soft sound of pleasure.
My cock twitches against her ass; it would be so fulfilling to take her right now with the way she’s rubbing herself against my hardening length. I know she’s more than receptive, but I’m determined to wait until we’ve talked before letting things escalate further. It’s too easy for us to get lost in the heat of the moment, to spend the entire night wrapped up in each other, and in doing so, I’d likely lose the nerve to tell her the truth.
However, nothing is stopping me from pleasuring her, giving her what she needs for now.
I let the loofah trail down her stomach and drop it just as I reach the apex of her thighs, trailing my finger over her pussy until my fingers start rubbing her wet, hot flesh.
“Liam.” She moans, reaching back and wrapping her arm around my neck, arching her back, allowing her delicious breasts to be on full display. Part of me is frustrated at being behind her and not being able to suck her nipple into my mouth.
I grab her earlobe in my mouth instead and bite it lightly as I rub her faster. She widens her stance, allowing me better access, and I slide two fingers inside her, her walls tightening with need. I keep up the movements, alternating between fucking her with my fingers and rubbing at her sensitive clit.
“Liam!” She moans louder this time, her legs unsteady, but I tighten my hold around her waist to keep her up.
I increase the pace as she rocks her hips against my hand, moaning more and more until she comes crying my name as I press against her clit.
Her gaze meets mine, and in her eyes, I see an entire universe of emotions. I’ve never considered myself overly vain, but the reflection in her gaze is unmistakable. Behind the admiration, desire, and postorgasmic glow, there’s something deeper—genuine affection, perhaps even love. It dawns on me, startling in its clarity, that Vanessa Caldwell might just love me. And what’s more terrifying? I think I love her too.
That epiphany strikes with the force of a revelation, unsettling in its intensity. As I slightly relax my grip, she turns inside my arms, sealing the moment with a kiss.
“I don’t want to go out tonight,” she murmurs, her voice husky from her cries of pleasure.
“Neither do I,” I confess, the words I love you lingering unsaid on my tongue. “I’ll just dry off and order something for us, okay? Take your time.”
I hurry out of the shower before she can respond, and wrapping a towel around myself, I retreat to the bedroom. I can’t bring myself to say those three words, not yet. The uncertainty of our future, the question of whether a life together is even possible, hangs heavily between us. For now, it’s a feeling I must hold close, unspoken.
Slipping into sweatpants, I move to the living room to power up my phone, left untouched on the counter. My hand pauses on the power button at the sound of a knock at the door. Expecting Cole’s usual interruption, I’m met instead with a sight that anchors me to the spot. Two royal guards and the Danish ambassador, a solemnity in their presence that instantly signals this is no ordinary visit.
“I’m sorry, King Alexander… The king is dead. Long live the king,” the ambassador intones, and the guards kneel, an ancient ritual performed in the stark modernity of my living room.
The words echo in a void of disbelief.
My father is dead.
I’m the king of Denmark.
Chapter 15
Nessa