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He was no fool, though. He was bloody close to perfection.
“You...you didn’t mind...”
He barked a laugh. “Are you joking? You taste so good, Claire. So sweet and perfect. I’ve never eaten anything so delicious in my entire life. I could dine on you and nothing else until the day I die, and never be hungry again.”
That sounded all well and good. But she was hungry, too.
He might not be able to make love to her tonight, but damned if she was going to let him leave without her seeing the magnificent body beneath his clothes.
“My turn,” she insisted as she sat up. She wrapped her legs around him before he could back away.
“Claire...”
She pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to his lips. “I know how far we can go,” she whispered.
And she proceeded to go there. She reached for his long-sleeved shirt and pulled it up, her breath catching in her throat as she beheld the miles of gleaming skin covering a pair of massive shoulders and a powerful chest. He was roped with muscle, beautifully formed. She stroked him with her fingertips, a little amazed, a little stunned. As if driven, she reached out and tangled her fingers in the sparse, wiry black hair on his chest, scratching her nails over his flat nipples, drawing a hiss.
“You are perfect,” she whispered as she ran her hands down, to toy with the trail of hair that led to the waistband of his jeans.
When she reached for his belt buckle, he put his hand over hers. “You don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.” She stared intently into his eyes, seeing the passion, the need he couldn’t disguise. “I’m desperate to.”
His breaths quickened, but he didn’t try to stop her as she unfastened his jeans. Unable to reach him, or see nearly as much as she wanted to, she got down from the counter to stand before him, letting her naked breasts brush against his broad chest. Her nipples were still sensitive from arousal, from his heated caresses, and she sighed at the rightness of it, hearing his groan of appreciation.
Claire bit her lip as she unzipped his pants, her hand starting to shake as she felt the huge, powerful erection under his fly. Her breath caught when she saw the tip of his cock peeking above the waistband of his boxer briefs.
“Oh, God,” she groaned, shocked at how big, hard and gorgeous he was. She slid her palm over the head, spreading the moisture there, and then reached inside his briefs to wrap as much of her hand around him as she could.
“Ah, Claire, you feel wonderful.”
“You are amazing,” she told him, loving the way he dropped his head back as she stroked him, up, then down, loving the thickness of him in her hand. She was also unhappy that she couldn’t have that thickness in her pulsing, throbbing vagina. But she wasn’t about to send him back upstairs unsatisfied.
“I’m still hungry,” she said, reaching for the chocolate sauce.
“You owe me nothing.”
“This isn’t about owing,” she informed him as she slowly lowered herself to her knees, setting the pot on the floor beside her. “It’s simply about wanting to taste your cock.”
He thrust his hands in her hair, his hips jerking reflexively as if her words had utterly inflamed him. Well, good. That had been the point. Plus they’d been true.
She tugged his pants and boxer briefs down, then had to just kneel in front of him for a moment, staring at the massive, proud erection rising from a dark thatch beneath. She scraped her fingernails along his powerful thighs, trying to remember to breathe, wondering if she’d ever be able to take him into her body, much less in her mouth.
She was certainly going to give it her best shot.
She leaned over and flicked her tongue against the base of his shaft, hearing his groan of pleasure. Then she did it again, this time swirling the tip over his vulnerable sac before sliding it up the length of him.
His hands twisted and tangled in her hair, though he didn’t pull her or hurt her in any way. He seemed to like how it felt, because he lifted a few long strands and rubbed them on his bare stomach.
Claire barely noticed, focused only on kissing her way up the length of him. When she finally got to the top, she flicked her tongue out to taste the fluid leaking from him, drawing another groan from his chest.
The chocolate could wait. For now, she just wanted to taste man. She opened her mouth as far as she could and sucked him in.
“Gods, Claire, that feels amazing.”
She didn’t respond, focused only on laving the engorged head. She sucked him hard while she wrapped her hand around the breadth of him and stroked, up and down. She took him as deep as she could, working him with her hands, building his frenzy.
Eventually, wanting to experience what he had, by mixing decadent food with decadent pleasure, she reached for the chocolate sauce and scooped up a handful. She looked up at him, watching him watch her, his dark eyes gleaming, his face racked with emotion and hunger. He said nothing as she curled her chocolate-smeared hand around him and stroked some more. Then she moved her mouth back to the tip of him to swallow up that sweetness and masculine heat.
“You’ll unman me.”
“That’s the plan,” she mumbled as she stroked and sucked.
His whole body seemed to grow harder, his muscles flexing, straining, a sheen of sweat highlighting every perfect ridge and slope. He was panting now, striving toward his climax, and she kept pace, stroking harder, sucking deeper.
“Claire!” he cried out, and tried to push her back.
She wasn’t having that. The chocolate and the sweat and the cum and the heat were utterly intoxicating. She was greedy for all of it. So she held tight, her fingers digging into his hips as she forced him to plunge harder into her mouth, driving toward her throat. Until at last a guttural cry signaled his orgasm.
He came in a hot gush and she swallowed greedily, shocked and fascinated at how much she enjoyed this, when she never had before. Something about this big, strong man being made vulnerable because of her, receiving his ultimate pleasure and spewing all that power into her mouth, made her feel strong, confident and surprisingly feminine.
They’d offered each other pleasure, but they’d also given and exchanged sexual power. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. And as Philip drew her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him for a deep, tender kiss, she began to suspect that it wasn’t the act itself that had been so erotic and blissful...it had been that act with this perfect, incredible man.
* * *
IT WAS VERY LATE by the time Philip returned to his apartment. After that intense oral pleasure, he and Claire had thoroughly scrubbed the kitchen, then gone back to her apartment down the hall. He’d been incredibly tempted by her offer of a hot, steamy shower together, but once she’d searched her place and realized she had no sexual protection, he’d kissed her good-night and taken his leave. If they’d gotten naked again, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from possessing her. And he suspected she wouldn’t have wanted him to.
A trip to the nearest store was first thing on his list for morning.
“Well, how was it?” a voice asked as he reached his door.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw both his compatriots, peeking at him from across the hall. Teeny was so much taller, his gleaming round eyes were a good foot above Shelby’s.
“We had a...very nice evening,” Philip said, hearing the satisfaction in his own voice. He didn’t elaborate. What he and Claire had shared was nobody else’s business but their own.
“Is it settled, then? Is she the one?” asked Shelby.
Philip didn’t even have to think about it. “She is most definitely the one.” Whatever feelings he’d had for Claire before paled in comparison to what he felt for her now. Having spent so many hours in her company—some just walking and talking, some being more intimate than any he’d ever spent in his life—he knew he was falling in love with her.
“When is the wedding?” Teeny asked, his expression as close to happy as it ever got.
Philip laughed softly. “I haven’t even proposed to her yet.”
“Well, why not?” Shelby let out an annoyed sigh. “You know she is the one, so tell her who we are, and we can get out of here.”
“I have to court her.”
Shelby blew out a rude sound. “Just give her some diamonds. That’ll convince her.”
“Have you forgotten that the entire reason we came here was so I could make sure my future bride loves me for myself, not for what I can bestow upon her?”
His cousin suddenly snapped his fingers. “That reminds me! You will never believe what Teeny and I watched on that television device tonight! It was your story!”
Teeny piped up. “It was quite remarkable, Your Highness, as if some performers had decided to act out your life.”
Curious, Philip waited for an explanation.
“It was a film,” Shelby explained, nodding his head and sounding knowledgeable—as if he knew all there was to know about this world already. “A film about a prince and his very handsome, talented, witty, well-dressed manservant, coming to America to find the prince a bride who would love him for himself.”
