Page 63 of Under the Same Sky

“Hmmm,” is all I give him.

“Damnit, I think you broke me,” Thorin grunts, falling back onto the bed. His chest glistens with sweat, and his hair is a glorious mess. I rock back and forth, and lean my hands on his thighs, riding out the most tempestuous orgasm of my life. Every part of me feels so alive. Thorin’s hips jolt, and he mutters, “Christ,” under his breath. His breathing is labored, his chest moving up and down as he tries to fill his lungs with air. “I told you I’d get you back,” I giggle. I wriggle my hips, and he curses again, trying to keep me still. We got home three hours ago, and the moment I had him alone, he knew he was in trouble.

“Is it just me, or was that a triple threat?”

I push forward and lower my body onto his, my arms on either side of his head. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, and squeeze my thighs. He shivers, and I smile against his mouth. “Not just you,” I whisper. “I got you good, didn’t I.” He’s exhausted, and my own limbs are lax, but it was so worth the effort. To know I can turn this big, stunning man into putty makes me feel so powerful, and shameless. Confident. Beautiful. I rub my nose against his, and he opens his eyes. Though, it looks like it’s a herculean effort on his part. Huh. Maybe I did break him. I smile, catching the way the moonlight coming in through our bedroom window bounces off my ring. I didn’t need something so flashy, but knowing he picked it out—he flew to New York to buy it—makes me love it. I trail my lips down his neck, and scrape my teeth over his pulse.

“Baby,” he moans. “Give a man a chance to recover, please.”

“That’s what you get for proposing in front of thousands, Caveman.”

I lie on top of him, my chin on his sternum, and just watch him breath. My fiancé.

When he manages to look at me, his lips curve up on one side, a lop-sided grin. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I want the world to know you’re mine, and if that makes me a caveman, then so be it.”

I squeeze my thighs, clench my pussy, and he grips my hips. “Reese,” he warns. Cheeky bastard.

I bat my eyelashes, feigning innocence. “What?”

I’m about to do it again when he sits up, and pins my wrists behind my back. “Consider me punished,” he grumbles. “Pretty sure I’ll be out of commission for like a week after what you just did.” He lifts me from the bed, and carries me to the bathroom. Despite my devious ways, I’ve tired myself out, too. “Shower, and bed.”

I don’t argue. And I don’t torture him any more than I already have. We have a quick shower, and then slip into bed, sans clothing. I stare at my ring, my hand on his bare chest.

“Reese?”

I glance up at him. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I broke that promise.” I know what he’s talking about, but we’ve already had this conversation, months ago.

“I’m not,” I whisper. “Because if you hadn’t broken it, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do. You needed to become you, and I needed to become me.”

“And if I made the same promise to you right here, right now, would you believe me?”

“Yes, but only because it’s different now.”

“How so?”

I throw my leg over his, and lie on top of him, my hand cupping his face. “Because you are my sky, Thorin. And as long as I have you, I have everything.” He rolls me over, and kisses me until my lips are raw, until my legs are wrapped around his waist. He inhales a shaky breath, his forehead against mine. “My sky, my stars, my sun, my moon, my always,” he says.

“My always,” I repeat. “My forever.”

Epilogue

Mya

I breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to listen to Thorin give his speech, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take it. I’ve been chanting don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke, for the last thirty minutes but now that the smell of food is in the air, mixed with the end-of-summer heat, I feel like I’m going to hurl. Big time. This is usually the part where I admire how gorgeous my best friend looks in her iconic ivory Vera Wang strapless tulle ball gown, with the crystal-embroidered bodice, and how beautifully her curled, brown hair drapes over her shoulders. How lovingly she looks at her new husband while he waxes poetic about how much he loves her, how she’s the love of his life. Instead, I’m trying not to feel stifled by the heat, and the hundred or so guests filling the tent, all seated around the dance floor. Sadly for me, I’m seated at the table in front of the bride and groom, with Thorin’s mom, Maggie, Reese’s dad, Walker, and Benji, Carson, and Fletch. And Fletch’s date. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be a big deal. I am, of course, the maid of honor, and Thorin’s bandmates are his groomsmen. But, these are not normal circumstances by any stretch of the imagination. With my gaze trained on Thorin, who’s just about to wrap up his speech, thank you mother of Mary, I focus on trying to keep my lunch from coming up—shit! I bolt from my chair, knocking it over, and run out the tent, and oh look, there’s a bush. I bend over at the waste, and toss my cookies. The tent is eerily quiet, but who cares, right? Um, I do, because this is Reese and Thorin’s wedding, and causing a scene was not on the agenda. Then again, neither was having a hot fling with a rockstar, and I did it anyway. And now I’m paying the price.

“Mya?”

If I weren’t trying to not throw up my stomach itself, I’d freeze at the sound of his voice, but as of right now, Fletcher Malone Andrews can go fuck himself. Or his date. Whichever will get him the hell away from me. His hand comes to rest on my bare back, and I swat his hand away with the arm currently not clutching at my midsection. Thank God my hair is up, and out of my face.

“Mya?” Reese is at my side, and I sigh in relief. Then I realize I ran out of the start of hers and Thorin’s reception because my stomach contents refused to stay inside said stomach.

“I’m sorry,” I moan, and then retch again. Reese bends down, and tries to look at my face. “Mya, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Oh good, that means my cheeks aren’t pink from embarrassment. Gotta take those small mercies where you can get ‘em, I guess. I cant my head to the side, and give her a pithy nod. “I’m fine. Go back inside, I’ll be—” I hurl again, except nothing comes out.