Page 80 of Striking
“Because our family has been through worse and survived, queen bee.”
Rhys kisses my temple, and I close my eyes. “He’s right. We’ve survived worse, and we’re still here. It’s going to take more than this to destroy the house of Windsor.”
My lip trembles as I look at them.
Really look at these men. So different in every way, and yet so very much the same.
My family.
“No vote yet. Last I heard, they were arguing loud enough for Lennon to hear from America,” Atticus jokes, and I cringe.
“Let’s go to bed, little bee. We’re not getting any answers tonight.” He stands with me in his arms, and Atticus sighs.
“Thank God. Clothes.”
“This from the man who hates to wear pants,” Rhys chides.
“Maybe I’ll be known as the pants-less king.”
I feel Rhys’s deep exhale and the pain it’s hiding. “Maybe you will.”
BELLAMY
Love fiercely because one day, this all ends.
—Bellamy’s Secret Thoughts
“Soak my cock with your come, baby. Show me who this body belongs to,” Rhys growls in my ear as the hot shower coats our slick bodies and the cool tile digs into my back, and I detonate.
A million sparks fire behind my eyes as I cling to him, shaking and moaning.
One orgasm rolling into two as he rests my shaky feet back on the tile floor. “We should conserve water by showering together every morning, my love.”
“Umm...” I laugh and grab a towel. “That shower took twice as long as my typical shower takes, and I have my doctor’s appointment this morning. If I’m late, I’m telling them it’s your fault,” I taunt him and hand him a towel.
“You’re the queen of Mornea, love. They’re not going to give you any grief.” Rhys wraps the towel around his hips, then drags me next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need me to go with you?”
“No.” I push away, knowing if I keep touching his bare chest, I’m going to drop to my knees and show him just how much I’d rather be here than meeting my new oncologist. “You have a meeting with the foreign affairs officer, and we still haven’t heard anything about the vote. You and Atticus both said it’s better to stick with business as usual until we hear something.”
Parliament has been locked away for nearly twenty-four hours with no updates, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. But telling my husband that isn’t going to help anything.
“I’ll see you this afternoon.” I take a step away, but I’m pushed up against the wall as Rhys’s mouth covers mine. His tongue pushes between my lips, and a moan builds deep in my chest.
“Whatever happens today, we are worth it.”
I nod, dazed.
Utterly in love with this man.
“We are worth it, Your Highness. Now I have to get dressed.” I tug free and kiss his cheek, smiling with adoration for this man. “I love you.”
“With my dying breath, love.”
God, I hope it never comes to that.
Meeting a new doctor is always the worst. Even for someone like me, with a medical background, it’s uncomfortable. There’s the inevitable mountain of intake forms. The in-depth discussion about every single facet of your medical history with the nurse, who absolutely senses your discomfort and wishes there was a better way for him or her to ease your mind. And then the occasionally nearly hour-long wait to see the doctor. I was hoping a small perk of being queen would be a slightly shorter wait, but when your husband pulls strings to get you into the best oncologist in Mornea, waiting forty-five minutes for your appointment doesn’t seem so bad.
If you’re lucky, your bestie will choose that minute to nag the hell out of you.
