Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

Did that get your attention, baby?

I hope so, and I also hope you know how wrong that is.

I know there is still so much to learn about you, and I need you to understand I’m here for it. All of it.

I want all your past and every minute of your future, and not just for now, Beauty.

I want to be the king of your kingdom.

Today.

Tomorrow.

Always.

I want you to wear a ring that says you’re mine.

Her lips part, her eyes popping up to mine as she chokes on her own words.

“Turn the page, baby,” I whisper.

She does and taped to the center is a white gold band with a single amethyst flower in the center.

I push her shirt up, tucking it into her bra so I can trace the tattoo hidden there.

She doesn’t run around showing her stomach, but she no longer goes out of her way to hide it either. Her shirts are no longer constantly tucked in or half past her hips, and if she’s self-conscious about them, you’d never know it.

It was all about hiding the words etched into her skin, the ones she felt she hadn’t earned and couldn’t explain, not the battle wounds beneath them.

“I’m the anchor.” I run my fingertips along the tattoo. “You’re the waves, and this is our ocean.”

“I suck at swimming,” she whispers.

A chuckle leaves me, and she sinks against my chest. “That’s what my chain is for. For you to climb when you feel weak, for you to hold when you feel alone, for you. All for you.”

I sit up, pushing my hand into her hair, and her eyes move to mine. “You said you felt your life started with a purple flower, it’s only right your future starts the same. As mine. As ours,” I whisper. “Me and Zo.”

Her tears fall with her next blink, and I reach up to catch them.

“It’s tradition in this family to marry young, but even if it wasn’t, I’d ask you for this, for your word. Be my wife, Beauty. It can be later, I don’t care, but wear my ring, make me this promise.”

Her eyes fall back to the page.

As her fingers lift, tracing along the single question just above the ring, I read the words out loud.

“So what do you say, baby, will you be my Brayshaw?”

She slips the ring from the paper, placing it in her open palm, and waits.

A small smirk curves her lips, eyes follow as I wrap my fingers around her wrist and shift closer.

I dip my head down to grasp the custom piece between my teeth and position her ring finger to my lips. Ever so slowly, I glide the proof she’ll always be mine into its place, and as I slide my mouth up, my eyes lock with hers.

A deep brown, darker than ever.

A little soft and a lot wild.

Victoria’s lips part, and with my grip still strong around her wrist, she gently falls back on the comforter, her thighs rubbing together.

I shift on the bed, smirking down at her. “Oh, my baby wants to play.”

She chuckles, a deep husky sound as her hands slide along the comforter, until her fingers meet. “She does.” She blinks slowly. “This is our first time alone in this house.”

My abdomen tightens, heat spreading through my body and my cock hardens.

I stand from the bed, slowly kicking off my shoes, my eyes trailing over my girl, ready and waiting for me.

“Yeah?” I rasp, licking my lips while watching her bite into hers. I tug my shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor.

Her eyes land on my chest, her back curling, courtesy of her own memory of what she knows I can do to her.

She trails my every move as I undo my belt and jeans and kick them away.

I climb onto the bed, caging her in.

Her chest inflates with a deep breath, only for it to leave her on a harsh hiss when I lower my pelvis to hers, my hard-on now pushing against her.

“And how’s my baby wanna spend our first hour alone?”

Suddenly her eyes snap to mine, a raw urgency boiling within them. “Tear my clothes off, Captain, and don’t be gentle.”

I groan and don’t fucking dare make her ask me twice.

I sit up, straddling her body, and start with my hands at her hips.

I push the thin material up and over her ribs, scooting back so I can add my tongue to the trail, but in the center of her stomach. When I get to the tattoo beneath her bra line, my cock twitches.

I dip down and bite.

Mine.

She gasps but presses her body firmer against me.

My hands glide to the center of her top, and as I bring my eyes to hers, I shred the fucking thing.

Her tongue slips between her teeth as she smiles, her fingers clawing into the blanket.