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He lifts his hand from his thigh and gestures me over.
My skin prickles beneath the light material of my underdress as I force myself over to him, my legs suddenly deadweights.
As I near, his hand snakes around my hip. He guides me to stand between his spread thighs, bringing up his other hand to rest on my hip.
For a moment, he just holds me, his touch light, looking up at me from beneath his lashes. Crystalline eyes have me hooked.
“Are you mad?” I ask in a whisper, prickles still plaguing my skin, as though I’m back in my world in the middle of the Chill.
“Can I be,” he wonders aloud, his gaze dropping to my chest, “with your body on display?”
Crimson burns my cheeks.
His hands press firmly against my hips before they drag up along my waist and hold tight.
Looking up at me from beneath his lashes, a dark smile steals his lips. “Is this dress a scheme to soothe my anger?”
My smile is small, playful. “Is it working?”
He guides me another inch closer to him until my breasts near his face. He considers them with that stony mask of his cracking, and a small dark smirk ghosting over his full mouth. “Perhaps it is.”
He reaches a hand up to the loose strings of my bodice. As he peels them apart with a gentle tug, letting the material fall open and expose me, he says, “You will not be late again, April.”
I manage a stiff nod before he leans forward and takes my left nipple into his hot mouth.
A breathy sound escapes me.
His hand glides down my waist then around to my core. Through my dress, his fingers find my slit and drag along to my tingling bud.
My lashes flutter.
His tongue rolls around my nipple, his fingers pressing deep into my slit but blocked by the thin material of dress. He brushes his thumb over my nub.
Desperate for more, I draw nearer until I can’t get any closer. The prince has kept this pleasure from me since the bargain was struck—now, I want it all.
Draping my leg over his arm, my hands find the nape of his neck and comb up through his thick locks. I cradle him to me, his hot mouth moving over the bead of my breast before grazing over to the other. He takes my hard nipple with a flick of his tongue.
A shudder runs through me.
The prince reaches down and bunches up my dress. His hand slips under it, fingers finding my core. The pad of his thumb presses against my bud while his finger slips inside of my opening.
I loosen a breathy sound, my body arching against him.
He prepares me, drawing more and more wetness from my core as his thumb rolls around my bud. I can feel it building, slicking his finger moving in and out of me.
Apparently he decides I’m ready now, because he slides his finger out of me and draws back his hand. A whispery moan of protest comes out of me and I nudge myself against him.
On my nipple, his face splits with a wide grin. He peels away from me, leaning back on his elbow as he eyes me all over.
My mouth pouts as I reach for him. “I liked that.”
Do it again.
Do more of it.
Do it all.
I stagger back as the prince pushes up from the bed. He steps towards me, closer and closer, forcing me to stumble back. My wide eyes are on his, watchful and waiting, until my back connects with the partition wall.
