One Last Rainy Day: The Legacy of a Prince (Ravenhood Legacy, #1)

by Kate Stewart

“We hooked up when I first got home. It was a one-time, welcome home fuck.” “Well, welcome home, you’re fucked,”

“Eggs—runny, coffee—black, beer—cold, music—loud, cars,” I floor the gas. She laughs out the rest. “Fast.”

And you’re the most beautiful punishment I’ve ever been dealt.

My rainy days are yours, Dominic. If you want them.”

It’s then I’m made aware there’s no difference between fucking and making love—not with a connection this strong.

And fall . . . back into the state where nothing but the feel of us matters. Like last time, I’m not scattered, but present. With her.

As lost as I feel—and have felt—she continues to find me and bring me back.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Cecelia, especially when you come apart for me.”

Psychologically, I’m on my knees. Physically, I could fuck a brick wall.

“Here’s my confession . . . I know what I’m holding,” she murmurs, “I know his worth.”

There’s indescribable freedom in falling.

We both know it and have known it since this started. It runs so much fucking deeper than physical. For me, it’s a place of bliss, peace. A place I both liberate and find more of myself that I know is only for her. Holding her in muted intimacy is the only way I can effectively relay to her without words that I feel it, too.

This is love, and I’m dangerously consumed by it. Not a question I have to ask myself as the truth of that is beating steadily in my chest. Staring into her eyes as we share breath, I’m filled with the conviction that I’m looking back at my twin flame. Attracted to her in a way I can’t escape. Even when I’m inside her, the need increases tenfold—especially then—I can’t get close enough. I can’t keep my hands off her or my thoughts from straying toward her constantly when we aren’t together.

A vow without words but a promise just the same. A promise I’ll do everything in my power to keep.

“I get it, but isn’t there something you want?” I’m holding it.

“Why won’t you let people know you?” You’re my people. “You know me.”

“After this, want to watch a movie?”

“You can make that cheddar popcorn I love, and we can crowd under that blanket that smells like . . . what’s that smell?”

“Yeah, and I’ll watch a chick movie because all I really want to do is watch you watch it. Your face gets all dopey when you get love drunk.”

“We love rainy days, don’t we, baby?” “We do,”

“Sorry, you can’t go, Dominic, because I dreamed your future up for you. Hang on, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I’m glad that you loved him, and I’m glad he knew what it felt like to be loved by you before he died, and it’s because of the way you love, Cecelia.”—Tobias, The Finish Line