I woke up with the taste of Emily’s pussy on my mouth.

Licking my lips, my dick sprung to sudden, almost painful life as I pried my eyes open. My heart skipped a beat when they landed on Emily. She was still sleeping, face turned away from me. In the yellow morning light, her pale skin was radiant and impossibly smooth. Her red, bed-mussed hair was fanned out on the pillow. It tickled my shoulder as she breathed quietly, evenly. Her lips were pink and still a little swollen.

There was color everywhere.

Taking it all in, my heart felt too big for my body. So did my cock. Which was something of a miracle, considering we’d stayed up until dawn sharing a baker’s dozen of orgasms between us. We’d made love in the shower and on the floor. I’d bent her over the sink, and she’d pushed me against the door and sucked me off. I took her from behind, I took her from the side. I took her every which way she’d let me.

The sex had been dirty and intense and fun. I didn’t tell her about my fantasy of making a family with her. But I’d thought about it a lot as our bodies had come together again. And again. The thought of having a lifetime of that kind of sex—of getting to relive that connection with someone every bloody night while also creating a baby or two—was unbearably sweet.

I breathed through the sudden tightness in my throat. I hadn’t allowed myself to feel much of anything before I met Emily. Well, nothing good, anyway. I knew stress. I knew worry.

But now I felt everything. An overwhelming sense of gratitude. The crisp coolness of the sheets. Desire gathering between my legs. Excitement for what came next. Appreciation of just how fucking excellent the girl sleeping next to me was.

I was being reckless. And I was alive, truly, vibrantly alive, for the first time since my parents had died.

I wasn’t going back to being the Ice Prince after this. I couldn’t. Going back would be a betrayal of the truth I’d found with Emily last night. Going back would mean choosing darkness over light. Loneliness over connection.

Going back was the wrong choice. The cowardly choice.

Maybe there was a way to make this relationship actually work, so Emily wouldn’t have to give up her business to be with me. For fuck’s sake, I was the future King of England. Couldn’t I pull some strings, change some rules, make the monarchy work for me instead of the other way around?

We had to try. I would never forgive myself for at least not giving it a shot. I’d learned so much in the past few weeks. About Emily. About myself. I knew now that I could never marry one of those perfect princess girls my uncle would approve of. I knew that there was only one Emily Kilpatrick in the world.

If I let her slip through my fingers, I’d be faced with one of two choices. Be alone. Or be with someone I didn’t love.

Those choices both sucked. I wanted to choose Emily. But that was assuming Emily wanted to choose me, too.

I’d convince her to make that choice. Or I’d die trying. I’d need the Queen’s blessing to make my relationship with Emily real. But I was her favorite grandchild. And she’d admitted to liking how down to earth Em was. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a tough sell.

My heart skipped a beat when Emily stirred. Stretching her hands above her head, she drew a deep breath and opened her eyes.

“Good morning,” I said.

Her eyes went wide as the memory of last night hit her. She clapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh my God.”

“I know.”

“Oh my God, Kit, we—you and I—”

“I know.” I grinned. I rolled onto my side to face her. “And it was brilliant.”

Emily grinned, too. “It was, wasn’t it?”

I reached for her hand and took it in mine. I watched her face; emotion flittered across her eyes, her grin dimming. For half a second I worried she’d pull away. This was definitely the type of touching that had made her so uncomfortable.

It was the way people in love touched. It was the way we’d touched last night.

“Is this all right?” I asked.

Emily swallowed.

“Kit,” she said after a beat, her voice suddenly serious. “What the hell are we doing?”

My heart thumped. I was hit by an image of a family. Our family, mine and Emily’s.

My family had been taken from me when I was young. Ever since my parents had passed, I’d wanted them back. I’d wanted to recreate the happiness and the sense of belonging I felt when they were around. I’d begun to think that it would never happen for me. That I’d never belong anywhere again.

Then I get a second chance with Emily Kilpatrick, and suddenly I feel…seen, I guess. Understood.

Opened up.

I finally found my belonging.

I belonged with her. We’d been together for all of a couple weeks. But we went back longer than that. And I was old enough, I’d dated around enough, to know what I wanted and what I didn’t.

I wanted Emily. I hadn’t wanted anyone like this, ever.

This was going to hurt like hell. But it was time.

It was time I stopped burying my past. It was time to bring it all out into the light, because that was where I wanted to live now.

I curled her fingers around my palm and kissed them. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”