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She blinked, but her pulse skyrocketed. If her mother had brought him here, then all might not be lost. Maybe there was a way for her to actually get what she wanted and not hurt anyone in the process. She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.
He laughed and rubbed his jaw. “I’m still adjusting to the fact that out of all the princes in the world, you want me.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you? You’re a prince, too.”
He smiled. “The prince of all things raunchy, maybe.”
A little laugh escaped her. She couldn’t wrap her head around any of this. It was like a dream. A wonderful, wonderful dream. “Let me get this straight. My mom came to your door, told you to come home with her…and you went? Just like that?”
“Yep, she knocked on my door, and I left with Georgie that same night to try and come win you over.” He bent down on one knee, a ring in his hand. It sparkled, with a princess cut diamond on a white gold band. It was perfect. “How am I doing so far?”
“Oh my God.”
His lips twitched up into that cocky grin she loved so darn much. “So…I have a question to ask you.”
She covered her mouth, forgetting all about the sheet. It fell to her lap, and his gaze dipped low. When he returned his attention northward, his stare held a heat in it that made her shiver with anticipation. “Go on. Ask me.”
“Princess Isabelle VanGuard the Third…will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife? I vow to spend all my days supporting you, and all my nights making you scream out in pleasure. I promise not to be bossy—too much, unless we’re in bed—and I promise to know when to shut up and when to stand up and take over. I will be your partner. Your lover. Your husband. Your royal consort.” He took a deep breath, and she blinked tears back. “I don’t know a damn thing about running a country, but I know you can teach me. Just like I can teach you how to have fun. To run in the rain, and dance in the streets, and be free. Will you marry me…please?”
“You asked me nicely,” she said, grinning so wide it hurt her cheeks. “So how could I possibly say no? Yes, you silly man. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
“Fuck, yeah. Thank God.”
He clasped the back of her neck, his touch firm yet gentle, and kissed her. As his mouth melded to hers perfectly, she let out a little sigh and opened her lips. He seized control the second her mouth parted, sweeping his tongue inside to entwine with hers. She moaned and gripped his bare shoulders, the need he brought out in her wakening instantly. “I missed you so much.”
“Me, too, Belle. Me, too.” He slid his hands down to her thighs, hauling her to the edge of the massage table they’d brought into her room. He slipped inside her thighs, his chest brushing against her core in a teasing touch. His fingers skimmed over her naked breasts, feather light. “So damn much. I need to touch you. Taste you. Love you. Fuck you.”
She tossed her head back and closed her eyes, burying her hands in his hair. With a jerk of her wrist, she tugged hard enough to sting. “Do it. Now. Don’t torture me. Don’t tease me. Just take me.”
“First of all? You didn’t ask me nicely.” He squeezed her nipples between his fingers. “And second? I’m not ready yet.”
She groaned and tried to tighten her thighs around him, but he held her in place with his body. “God, you’re so…so…ugh.”
“Love you, too, Princess.”
He nipped her left shoulder, then dipped lower to her breast. Without warning, he flicked his tongue over the distended bud, then sucked her in deep.
“Gordon,” she cried out, clinging to his hair, and arched her back. “Please.”
He released her with a smacking sound of his lips. “Mm. So fucking delicious. I might have to taste every inch of you tonight, and more.”
Princesses don’t beg.
“Yes, please,” she said.
“Not good enough,” he said, laughing. Then he closed his mouth over her other nipple, sucking hard and scraping his teeth over her. “More.”
“I said please, damn it,” she said, punching his shoulder. “Ugh.”
He moved lower, nipping the skin right above her hip, and slipped his fingers between her thighs. When he brushed against her aching core, she moaned and leaned back on the table, spreading her thighs wider. Begging without begging.
And she knew before he was finished with her…
She’d be begging for mercy.
Chapter Eighteen
Gordon moved lower, nipping the skin of her thigh as he dipped his head down. After all that stress and worry, he couldn’t believe he was here. With Belle in his arms again. This time, he wouldn’t let her go. This time, she’d be his forever. He’d make sure of that. He’d seen what his life would be like if she wasn’t his, and it had been bleak.
