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I brush my mouth to hers. “You know, I believe I’ve already come up with a solution.”
“I’m sorry you made the drive all the way out here.” Her hand slides down my chest, settling on my groin, eliciting a moan from me. “Perhaps I can still make it worth your while.”
Clutching her hips, I yank her against me. “And how do you propose to do that?”
She bites her lower lip, passing me a demure smile. It takes everything in me not to bend her over this couch right now. My god, I want to. Want to fuck her ruthlessly, bask in her screams as I thrust harder and deeper, make her tell me I own every inch of her, my scent covering her as I send her off with Jameson. It’s so primal. So animalistic.
As much as I love these rougher and more carnal encounters, they’re no match for the slower, more sensual moments we shared during her birthday celebration. I’ve tried to recreate that feeling since then, but it hasn’t been the same.
Mainly because Esme’s begged me to be rougher with her again.
Maybe she prefers it that way.
But a part of me can’t shake the feeling she wants it harder and faster so she doesn’t have to admit the emotions I saw swirling in her eyes as I made love to her.
“I have a few ideas,” she says coyly.
“And what would those be?” I waggle my brows.
“I recall you mentioning how much you love seeing my red lips wrapped around your cock. And since my stylist went with red tonight, it would be a waste of an amazing opportunity if I didn’t let you fuck my mouth.”
I immediately harden, jaw tightening, muscles clenching. The mouth on this girl is going to be my undoing.
Then again, I’m pretty sure it already has been my undoing.
“And I’d be remiss if I didn’t allow you to take advantage of such an amazing opportunity.” I move my hand to her nape, giving it a harsh grip, the atmosphere shifting from playful to more erotic. “So get on your knees.”
“Yes, sir.” Deliberately dragging her tongue along her lips, she starts to lower herself as I reach for my belt, about to unbuckle it.
Until a knock sounds on the door.
We both stiffen, eyes flinging wide as we jump as far away from each other as possible.
But I fear we weren’t quick enough.
Not when we look toward the door and see my brother standing in the doorway, his suspicious stare darting between the two of us as he assesses the scenario, a thousand questions on his face.
“Your Highness,” he says finally, bowing toward Esme. “I apologize for being early. There’s a bit of traffic, so I suggest we leave soon if we’re to be on time.”
She grits a smile, her nerves obvious in the way she continually smooths a hand down her dress, shifting from foot to foot.
“I’ll be right out.”
“Of course, ma’am.” He nods, then looks at me. “Creed.”
My name isn’t a greeting. More like an order to follow him. As much as I wish I could stay, finish what Esme and I started, I can’t allow any appearance of impropriety.
I lift my gaze to Esme’s, hoping she can hear my silent apology. “Your Highness.”
“Lieutenant,” she replies cordially, but still with a hint of something flirtatious.
Drinking her in one last time, I continue out of her suite, acting as unruffled as possible in the hopes my brother won’t read too much into it. I say a quick goodbye to him, but before I can make my escape, he grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop right outside of the living room.
“What the fuck are you doing, Creed?” he whispers, voice low but determined.
“Nothing.”
He scoffs. “That didn’t look like nothing. From where I was standing, it looked like you and the princess, who I know you’ve always had a thing for, were a little too close. And a little too guilty. Tell me the truth. What were you doing?”
