Rise of a Queen Page 43

An overwhelming sensation explodes in my chest so hard, it’s almost painful. But at the same time, it’s the relief I never thought I needed. “B-but you said you wanted a baby.”

“I only wanted to glue you to me with that. Now, I’ll just find another method.”

“R-really?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No, but…”

“I already have Aiden, and I practically raised Levi, so he’s basically my son, too. Believe me, having those two punks is like fathering a dozen children.”

A small smile grazes my lips. I can totally see that.

“But if you want kids, I will make it happen.” His expression turns determined. “I don’t care which doctor I have to threaten.”

“Stop it.” I smile. “I don’t want them.”

“Why not?”

“Because psychopathy is genetic and I’ll never take the risk of having a child inherit Dad’s qualities.”

“You haven’t.”

“Just because I escaped that fate, barely, doesn’t mean my offspring won’t — or the following generation, or the next. Being born without the ability to procreate is a blessing in this case, not a curse.”

“It is what you make it to be, Aurora.” He strokes my hair back. “The world is at the tip of your fingers.”

“It is not.”

“It is now. I’ll bring the world to its knees in front of you. All you have to do is ask.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Why what?”

“Why would you do that for me?”

“Because the world needs to bend the knee for my queen.”

My queen.

My mouth falls open and my eyes nearly bug out.

Holy shit. I think Jonathan just called me his queen. I didn’t hear that incorrectly, right? It’s not a sadistic play of my imagination.

Right?

“Now.” His fingers sneak under my shorts, and my legs willingly open. “Have you been a good girl?”

“W-what?”

“Are you wearing the plug?”

No.

Shit.

I was so excited about the phone call with Layla, I came down without putting in the stupid toy.

“What will you do if I say no?” I murmur.

“If I spank you, you’ll like that so I’ll go a step further.” His fingers sink into my folds and I arch my back against him.

“A step further?” I moan.

His lips find my earlobe and he whispers, “There will be no orgasm.”

“Jonathan!” I protest.

“Only good girls get orgasms.”

“I won’t do it again.” I cradle his face with my fingers and brush my lips against his jaw, knowing how much he likes it when I kiss him. “Please?”

“Try harder.”

I plant kisses all over his cheek, his lips, his chiselled jaw, and even his nose and his eyelids. It’s the first time I’ve been so forthcoming about kissing him, but Jonathan doesn’t stop me. If anything, he loosens his hold a little to give me room to worship him.

To take my fill of him like I never have before. As I continue my ministrations, he fingers me slowly until I’m writhing in his hands, begging for more.

“Jonathan…”

“What?”

“More…”

“More what?” He twists his fingers inside me and I arch my back against him.

“T-that…that…please…”

He pulls out his fingers and I groan against his face, but I don’t have to wait for long as he unbuckles his belt and slides his huge, throbbing dick inside me. We moan at the same time as he fills me whole. His fingers slide my wetness to my back hole using them instead of the plug as he thrusts slow and measured. His metal gaze never leaves mine as he fucks both my pussy and my arse.

But those aren’t the only things he’s owning. He’s claiming me body, heart, and soul, and it’s completely out of my control. I can’t stop it, even if I wanted to.

Jonathan might be feared by the world, but as I stare into his sombre eyes, I find safety, belonging — feelings I never thought I would find again. And because this is out of my control, it scares the shit out of me. At the same time, I don’t want to run away from it.

“J-Jonathan…” I moan, gripping his neck like it’s a lifeline.

“What, wild one?”

“Harder.”

He complies, his hand surrounding my throat as he brings me to the edge. He doesn’t stop, though. Not when I scream his name.

Not when I writhe against his body.

Not when I beg — no idea if it’s for more or for him to stop.

He takes me in countless positions as if he can’t get enough of me. As if we’ll lose the connection the moment he’s out of me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case.

When he finally comes inside me, I’m so deliciously spent and sore.

As I lie limp in his arms, a satisfied moan leaves my lips, and before I sleep, I murmur, “I want to go home.”

He strokes my hair away from my face, his voice quiet as he repeats, “You want to go home?”

“I’m sick and tired of running away.” A shiver runs through me. “It’s time I finally stand up in front of the monster of my past.”

 

 

23

 

 

Aurora

 

 

Deciding to go home and actually doing it are two entirely different things. All I want to do is dig a hole and hide in it.

However, the thought of running away like in the past cripples me. I can’t do that anymore. I can’t start anew, pretend I have a rebirth and go on with my life.

The memories of lonely nights, trembling under the blankets, cause me to shudder.

Besides, I can’t give up the life and the balance I’ve found. It’s not just about Layla and H&H. It’s also about Aiden, Levi, Astrid, and Elsa. It’s about Moses, Margot, Tom, and even Harris. It’s about the sense of family I’ve refound. And at the top of that chain, there’s Jonathan.

The man who held my hand through it all and didn’t judge me, even when he thought I’d lost my mind. If anything, he promised to protect me — including from myself.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve only had myself to rely on. Protection could’ve only been provided by me. Having Jonathan there brings a certain peace I’ve never experienced before.

But it’s not just about the sense of protection he brings. No. It’s also about how he doesn’t allow me to get lost in the maze in my head. It’s almost as if he knows how dark it gets and pulls me out every time.

I’m not sure what it is about him that allows him to read me so well. I doubt it’s because of the age difference, which, ironically, I don’t think about anymore, and when I do, it’s more with awe than anything else.

Not only does Jonathan know me, but he also recognises my needs before I come to terms with them myself. He’s taught me that recognising one’s own strength and weaknesses is what makes you strive higher.

With him, I feel both vulnerable and powerful. I can take on the world, but at the same time, I’m scared he’ll pull the carpet from underneath my feet one day.