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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Angel Lawson
Read between
July 5 - July 8, 2024
“I miss being inside you at night,” he whispers, bending down to pluck a slow, shallow kiss from my lips. “I know we can’t fuck, but I can still take care of you.”
“I miss it, too,” I admit, somewhere in the midst of feeling like gelatin. “You being inside of me, when we go to sleep.” Pace follows my train of thought with a low, stilted, “It… wasn’t always about sex.” Nodding, I tip my head back for another rinse, thinking that it’s a lot like this. Just being wanted. Cared for. Touched. Kept.
wrist. “Sometimes, when I’d fuck you, it’d be so… desperate. To have you.” Brows knitting up, he shakes his head. “It was violent and greedy, but I know you’re mine now. I can wait until your hunger comes back. Until you feel greedy.” He glances down at my body, arching a brow. “And not to pressure you or anything, but I’m sort of counting the days.”
“That’s not about me, Pace. Everyone in East End has huge, throbbing Oedipus complexes. They’re turned on by a motherly figure—not me, specifically.”
“The motherly thing is hot as fuck, but you’re selling yourself short. You’re a hot, fiery West End chick with a great rack and gorgeous eyes. Pushing out a kid didn’t change that.”
“I love you,” he says, easing off the kisses and grabbing the body wash. “And you make me feel safe in a way no one has before.” He squeezes out a small dollop into his hand, rubbing it over my shoulders, and then down my arms, massaging soothingly. “Soon, I’ll be back inside of you, but until then, let me take care of you the way you take care of us and Justice, okay?”
Leaning forward, I kiss him once more, feeling a pounding in my heart that is so different from before. He wanted me back then, hard and relentless, and maybe this feels tame by comparison, but he’s fueled by something better than anger. Love.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to put another baby in you.” The idea is terrifying. Horrifying. My pussy actually clamps up at the thought, but then I look at him, those deep brown eyes, his sweet face and gentle hands, and realize there is no sacrifice too big to build a family with these men.
“Don’t be. I chose every wound. Each scar is a hit I took for my brothers. If I had to do it all over again, I would.”
“I always regretted being so difficult for him—not getting to know him better. Not telling him how proud I was to have his last name.” There’s a long pause, and then Mama’s gentle, “Would you like it?” My heart stutters, squeezing painfully inside my chest. Lex cocks his head. “Would I like what?” “Sinclaire,” Mama clarifies. Since Lex has his back to me, I can’t see his reaction, but Mama suddenly rushes out, “I’m sorry if that’s presumptuous of me. It’s just… Verity is Sinclaire, and so is little J.J. here. I don’t know what carrying the Ashby name around does for you, Wicker, and Pace.
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“Your tits look fucking spectacular. I can’t help thinking about what my cock would look like, slick with milk, buried between them.”
“Seriously, Verity. The three of us are going to be walking into enemy territory distracted by how fucking gorgeous you are. It’s going to be a very long night.”
“Christ, Red,” he exhales, taking me in. He jabs his elbow at Pace, who draws his eyes away from the tablet, and sucks in a breath. “Fuck me, Rosi.” Pace’s dark eyes assess me from head to toe before throwing Lex a pained look. “We’re going straight into enemy territory with boners.” Lex points at him. “That’s what I said.” My jaw drops. “How do you think I feel? You have to deal with one chick, but I’ve got three fucking underwear models to look at all night. Why do you keep letting Wicker dress you?” I demand. The man’s got impeccable taste for menswear. Their suits are hugging all the right
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It rushes through me like lava, a wave of want so strong that it drives my mouth down to his root. Suddenly, I feel so stupid for moping around these past two weeks, waiting for my men to remind me that I’m a sexual, desired creature. They created Justice, but they didn’t create that. It was always in me, waiting.
“Don’t keep it from her,” Lex says, pulling my hair back to watch as I slide my mouth up the shaft, sucking. “You want his cum, baby?” Eagerly, I nod, my tongue laving the head of his cock, and Wicker whimpers. Like, legitimately fucking whimpers.
“You’re so fucking good to us,” he whispers, and it takes me a moment to realize the airy rasp of his voice is owed to the way his arm is bobbing, fist stripping his cock. I waste little time pushing him back, gathering my hair away from my face as I duck down, licking the glistening tip. Pace doesn’t stop stroking himself, though. He points his cock at my slick, parted lips, and cradles the back of my head, softly commanding, “Open for me.”
Still trying to catch my breath, Lex pins me with a hard, hungry look as he yanks the tie out of his hair and says, “My turn.”
“I know I can’t,” he says, panting against my lips, “but god, I want to fuck you.”
“Verity—baby—touch me.”
I suck in a breath, feeling his raised scars. “Are they ugly?” he asks, a thread of misery in his voice. Before I can answer, he says, “They should be. They aren’t like yours. They aren’t there because I created life. They’re just sour memories.” At once, I’m reminded of the words he spoke to my mother, hours earlier. “They’re more than bad memories, Lex. They’re a testament to your strength. Your love and loyalty to your brothers.” Leaning down, I press a kiss to his mouth, whispering, “I think they’re beautiful.” His eyes flutter open, holding mine. “Then believe me when I say that’s how I
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“I can’t fuck your pussy,” he says, “but I can taste it.” My breath hitches, and the first wet touch against my clit sends a shiver through my body.
“I remember thinking that you had the prettiest, most perfect pussy I’d ever seen.” Extending his tongue, he takes a long, languorous lick, his fingers digging into my thighs, holding them open for his searing gaze. “It’s still so fucking pretty, baby. If you could see what I see…”
I want to feel full. I miss it. “I want you inside.” His eyebrows crash together. “Baby, it’s too soon.” “Maybe,” I hedge, giving my wrist a twist, “for that hole.” The words hit him and he exhales like he’s been punched, his cock surging in my hand. I reason, “Pace and Wick won’t do it. They’re afraid. But you know my body better than anyone else.” I wet my lips, watching as his eyes dart to the motion. “You know what I can handle and what I need.”
“If you want this, you need to understand that I won’t be able to moderate myself. I didn’t fight Pace when he wanted to have you first, because you do this thing to me, Verity.” His tongue traces the crease of my mouth. “This thing where I completely lose control.” When he pulls up, showing me his handsome, earnest face, I tell him the truth. “I trust you, Lagan.”
I might wear the tiara. But I’m still the same fiery redhead from West End.
“You want it that bad?” he asks, stretching me out as he laps the milk leaking from my nipple. “You missed having us inside, filling you up?”
His long, lean frame covers me as he abandons my breasts, trailing hot, wet kisses up my collarbone, to my throat, pausing at my mouth. He’s breathing hard as he gazes down at me. “Tell me you want it,” he demands, stroking the lube up his cock. Swallowing, I touch the tense line of his jaw. “I want you to fuck me,” I whisper, watching my words ripple through him like a wave.
“I love you,” he raggedly whispers, letting his cock stretch me wide. “You are my life. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m not going to be able to hold it, baby.” I realize then that he’s like Wick was earlier. Too close to the edge. So close to bursting. The thought makes me burn, and I hold his chin, forcing his gaze to mine. “Give it to me,” I plead, already seeing his face tighten as his thrusts grow deeper, more erratic. “Put your baby in me, Lagan.”
Stretching out on the massive bed, my fears from before have faded. My men love me—want me, need me—despite the changes in my body and our lives. We’re different now. We’re not just Princes and a Princess. Not even just lovers. We’re more. We’re partners. We’re creators. And I can’t wait to see what we create next.
He’s nothing like I thought he’d be. Although he looks like the perfect combination of Wicker and Verity, sometimes these little peeks of mine and Lex’s personality will already show through in him. Like how he wakes up in a furious tizzy, or when his curious eyes scan around each room I take him to. There’s nothing more soothing than walking him around the palace, watching him explore how big the world is. Some nights, when he’s fussy, I’ll walk for hours, showing him the place where Effie first got out of her cage, or the sitting room we used to play Iceberg in, or the huge oak out front
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“Family isn’t about blood. It’s about the people you love,” I tell her. “You should know that. You see DKS as your family, don’t you?” I grab the tiny diaper and slip it under Justice’s body, giving his belly a little tickle. “Lex and Wicker are my brothers, and Justice is my son.”
“He was never a father to us. He was a controlling prick who collected us for his own scheme to create a legacy.” I fasten the tabs on the diaper, and Justice’s little legs wiggle around, kicking against me. “A real father could never hurt his son. I understand that now.”
“The night he raped me, I got my revenge.” She sniffs, the sound full of contempt. “The tip of my steel-toed boot, slamming right into his rotten testicles. I can’t know for certain if that’s what caused it, of course. But after, I know he was…” Her eyes sparkle menacingly. “Let’s just say he was out of the game for a while.”
“No one ever suspects a woman in fuzzy pink slippers.”
Can creation ever just come without destruction?
He’s mine, I think, knowing everyone in these stands is seeing the passion I feel from him every night when he’s buried inside me.
“Let’s go!” Wick shouts, beaming down at J.J. “That’s your dad! Suck it, Wittmore!”
“You were amazing,” I say, capturing his smirk in a long kiss. “To the victor.” He nibbles my lip before letting me slide to my feet. “You the spoils, Rosi?” “Me,” grabbing his tie, I tug him toward his brothers, “and burritos.”
I watch as Pace squats, giving J.J. a breathtaking smile. “You rocking my number, little man?” Justice kicks his feet happily when Pace tickles them, his eyes lighting up.
“You’re so smart, you know that?” “Well, some of us weren’t raised in East End, where the average emotional intelligence falls somewhere around narcissists and megalomaniacs.”
I know it’s not the same, but something in my chest twists at the return of one of Forsyth’s missing women—even if it isn’t one of my own.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Detty. We were both done dirty.” So quiet that I can scarcely make out the words, he whispers, “We made a damn good one, though.”
“I’m the pretty one.” He shrugs, sniffing. “It’s been said.” Pace snorts. “Modest, too.” Odette steps up to him, her eyes locking on Wicker’s nervous gaze. Ultimately, she smiles. “You’re much more than that. A ferocious heart, I bet. The mask you wear is all Kayes.”
“Just as clearly as I can see the shadow of your father, Benji.” Wicker jolts in surprise. “You knew my father?” “A little.” Odette takes his hand, urging him, “And you can let that shadow go. Whoever killed him did you a favor, and this,” she stresses, “is coming from someone who knew Rufus Ashby.”
“This is your Princess. She saved you. And even though she doesn’t know it, she saved me, too.”
Handing him over doesn’t feel like I’m giving away a piece of my heart, just adding another layer of people who love and protect him. I step back, letting Pace and his mother fuss over Justice.
“I have a quiet life now. Bare, because it’s had to be. But I’d like to visit Forsyth again, I think.” She glances at Mama and Pauly. “See how much our children are changing it for the better.”
Gazing over at Justice, I wonder if he’ll be where I am one day, listening to me and his dads relay the blinding brightness of our reigning days. If he does, I decide I want it to be just like this. No dungeons or pain or death. Just love.
“I’m trying to change things for the women of Forsyth, just like Story and Lavinia.” I think of my mother and Adeline, rescuing Odette from the dungeon, and add, “Like you.” Her face softens, a sad smile springing to her lips. “I’m afraid I didn’t accomplish much, Ver Bear.” I argue, “Because it’s not easy. It’s definitely not fast. And it’s come with a lot of pain, which I only survived because of the strength you gave me.” I stress, “You did more than you give yourself credit for.”
