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Broken Prince (Cinderella #2) Page 26
Author: Aubrey Rose

"Eliot..." my voice trailed off as my mind traced another thought. I squeezed Eliot's hands sharply as the thought materialized.

"The board! Did you do your presentation?"

"Yes. No. It doesn't matter," Eliot said.

"But what happened?"

"I left. I'm publishing the paper on my own. They can have their Academy. I'm finished."

"Finished?" I looked at him in shock. "You won't do math again?"

"Oh heavens no! Not at all! Oh Brynn, I could never stop doing math!" He smiled.

I put my hand on my chest.

"Whew. You scared me for a moment there."

"I'll always love discovering new parts of that universe, I'm afraid. I'll still attend conferences, I suppose, and lectures. But I don't need the prestige of the Academy. I don't need to be published. I'll let others take the credit.” With that Eliot tilted his head towards me in a knowing look.

"Others?" I didn't get his hint.

"You, Brynn, have inspired me to produce my best work."

I shook my head.

"No—" I began.

"I've already submitted the paper with your name as co-author, through your university. It will be published in the fall."

"Why?"

"Oh, come, don't look so shocked. It's been done before many times. When someone with no connection to the academic world puts out a result—"

"But you are connected—"

"Not anymore. I'm done. Academia...eh, it's not necessary for me."

"So I will be able to graduate? I talked to the dean—"

"I talked to her, too," Eliot said. "She was impressed with my recommendation, and I think that you'll find every credit for your degree is in order."

"Oh, Eliot!" I threw my arms around his neck and nearly choked him to death with a tight hug. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me against his chest. I pulled away and kissed him again passionately. My grandmother had wanted me to graduate so badly. She'd been so proud... My throat hurt as I thought about what she would have said. And a published paper to top it off!

"Let's go away for a week," Eliot said. "Just us. Somewhere up the coast. I'll find us a cabin to rent and we can relax in private."

"That sounds wonderful," I said. The prospect of not being anywhere near a television screen or newspapers seemed immensely appealing.

"You seemed surprised to see me here," Eliot said, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.

"I wasn't sure you'd follow me," I said softly.

"Always," Eliot said. His smile warmed me almost as much as his kiss. "You won't be able to get rid of me."

"That sounds wonderful," I said again. "And I promise this time I won't run away."

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Eliot

Eliot threw another log on the fire. Brynn had spent the early part of the morning off on a walk by the coast. They'd already spent the better part of the week at the remote campsite. The map showed that there was no other cabin in the area for miles, and Brynn had smiled when he'd told her that there were bears in the forest.

"They'll eat any photographers trying to take our picture," she said.

Her levity alternated with her sorrow in equal parts. Eliot gave her space when she asked for it, and comforted her when she wanted to be held in his arms. He knew that grief emerged from the unlikeliest of places, and so he did not press Brynn when she needed to cry. He, too, knew something about tears.

When Brynn came back to the cabin, the flames were just beginning to leap up over the edge of the rocks surrounding the fire pit. He was surprised when she took the sleeping bags out and began to lay them by the fireside.

"Are we sleeping outside tonight?" Eliot asked.

"No," Brynn said. "But I wanted to do this."

If he was surprised at sleeping outside, he was even more surprised when Brynn drew her hand down and began to undress him. He waited until she had unbuttoned his shirt completely before taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. Her hair smelled sweet, the scent mixing with campfire smoke. Her hands moved across his chest, her fingers tracing the scars. When he looked down, the firelight illuminated them so that they gleamed golden against his skin.

"Put back together like a patchwork," Eliot murmured.

"Put back together," Brynn said. "That's the important part."

Her hands slid farther down, and he inhaled as she tugged at the button of his jeans with one hand, pulling his head down into a hard kiss with the other. She moaned as she felt his hardness, and in response he became even more aroused. The primal growl of her voice as she tore off his pants made him want to throw her on the ground and take her like an animal.

He pulled off her jacket and she helped him, their movements growing faster and more urgent as their mouths moved against bodies ready to come together. When she dropped her underwear to the ground and looked up at him from under lidded eyes, he caught a breath. They stood for a second, both nak*d, staring at each other like Adam and Eve before the earth had filled with creatures. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I want you so badly," he said.

Her kiss ripped the breath from his throat. He gripped her tightly and they fell to the ground together, limbs already intertwining as he eased her back onto the sleeping bags. He kissed her neck from behind her ear down to her collarbone, then farther down. Her gasps mixed with the crackling of the flames, and he let his tongue slide over the shadows that her nipple cast across her chest. He moved himself so that he was positioned between her, his already throbbing c*ck pressed against her on the outside. He let the head of his member slide over her already slick folds, rubbing the swollen flesh only slightly. Back and forth, back and forth. Teasing her.

Her fingers dug into his skin and she moaned again, her desire so evident that his mouth went dry with want.

"Take me, Eliot," she whispered. "Please. Take me. Love me. I want you to love me."

"Always," Eliot said. "I'll always love you, Brynn."

He bent down and slid into her. Every inch of her tightened around him, and he worked his way into her heat slowly, rocking slightly as he entered.

"Ohhh," she moaned softly. "Ohh!"

Swollen and hungry, Eliot had to hold himself back. But when he kissed her on her neck, letting his tongue trace circles on her soft skin, she growled with ferocious, unguarded lust.

The sound tore through his will, and he thrust forward hard, pulling her against him and kissing her, stifling her gasp. Her h*ps tilted up and her legs wrapped around him. An aching pressure was building in his groin, and he could no longer keep from taking her body. He slid forward and back, letting himself indulge the deliciously slow agony for minutes. Brynn's whimpers grew louder and louder until it was too much. Her body grew damp with sweat underneath him from the fire and the exertion of self-control, and he, too, felt beads of sweat form at the hairline on his neck. Their skin gleamed as though they had been oiled up like ancient kings and queens.

She pulled away from him, her face only inches from his. Her full lips pressed together, wet and glistening in the light, and whispered a single word.

"More."

Eliot thrust hard into her then, meeting her effort with his and letting his passion drive him. He was beyond hard, past the point where he would normally have let himself slide over the edge, but this sensation was so fantastic that he wanted it to last forever. Every time he drove his swollen member into her slick folds, her fingers gripped his h*ps harder, pulling him in even farther. He bent over her body, making her wait for the next thrust, and grazed her nipple with his teeth. He was ready to burst, but he did not want her to be left behind.

The touch made her body shiver, and she arched her back against the ground. He could feel her body tighten and clench against him, and she threw her head from one side to another, her hair sweeping the pillow in wild fervor. The flames from the fire cast shadows across her face.

He could no longer hold on. His groans joined hers as they both rode the wave of their love over into satisfaction, their bodies shuddering against each other in the fire's warmth. Brynn cried out once at the end, as he thrust again with a final shiver into her body.

Worn out, Eliot collapsed next to Brynn on the ground, his chest heaving. He could not hear anything but the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he felt dizzy.

Brynn reached out and touched his skin softly, as though it was shattered glass and she expected it to cut her fingers if she pressed too hard.

“Wait,” he said. He reached over to where his pants lay crumpled on the ground, and fished his fingers into the pocket. “I brought a present for you.”

"Eliot—"

Eliot lifted the necklace up in the air. The two diamonds glinted as the pendant twirled on the end of the delicate silver chain.

“My necklace!” Brynn cried. “You found it! Oh, Eliot!”

“And I have another present for you. But you’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? What is it?”

“That would defeat the point of waiting until tomorrow.”

“Tease,” Brynn said, smiling. “Tell me. Oh! Is it Lucky? Did you bring him here with you?”

“That damned cat,” Eliot said, shaking his head gravely before letting out a chuckle. “He followed me all the way to America and got thrown into animal quarantine. They won’t let him out for another two weeks. But don’t worry, he’ll be back to torment me soon, at least if he doesn’t have the plague.”

“That’s a relief. Will you put my necklace on?” Brynn asked.

She bent her head down as he laced the chain around her neck and fastened it. His fingers rested gently on her warm skin, stroking upward to her cheek.

"I will never leave you," Eliot said. "I will never hurt you, and I will never leave you. I love you."

"I love you, Eliot. Thank you."

That night he slept by her side. Her breathing was soft, and he held her close. For the first night in a long while, she did not wake up from any nightmares, and when he woke, she was still nestled by his side.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Brynn

“Life itself is the most wonderful fairytale of all.”

Hans Christian Andersen

The thunderstorm took both of us by surprise. I was sitting inside with a book. Eliot had been outside gathering more wood for the fire when the sky boomed through the branches overhead and rain began to drip down.

“It never rains in Southern California,” Eliot muttered as he came up the steps. “That’s what they all told me.”

“You look good with wet hair,” I said, ruffling his dark hair. Drops of water flew from the ends.

“I wanted to have dinner by the ocean,” Eliot said.

“We’ll have dinner inside,” I said. “No problem.” But Eliot looked out toward the dark clouds with worry.

He started a fire in the small cast-iron stove in the cabin and forgot to open the flue. Smoke poured out of the front of the stove and Eliot burned a finger when he pulled the flue open.

“Ow!” he cried.

“Put it in cold water,” I said.

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