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“Say it,” he whispered against her neck. “It’s such a simple word, parthena mou. Why don’t you say it?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t, wouldn’t – she shouldn’t ever say it.
Because if she did, then it would mean—-
“Say it.” The prince licked the side of her throat.
Aaaaah.
“Say it, parthena mou, or…”
And then she felt it. His mouth lifting from her neck, his hands leaving her swollen breasts to take hold of her hips. When he began to lift her off him—-
No!
Her eyes clashed with his. “Please,” she choked. She didn’t care if she was begging. She just wanted more of that deliriously beautiful feeling that only his body could give her.
“Then say it.” He fisted her hair. “Say it because I want to make you goddamn come, too—-”
Writhing at his growl, she choked out, “C-c-co…” But it was so hard.
“Say it.”
“C-c-co…c-conana!”
The prince stilled, and she fell back on his lap, red-faced.
Oh my God, had she just made a word up for his erection?
“I’m sorry,” she said shamefully. “I d-didn’t mean to make your, you know, sound like a botanical aberration.”
The prince’s lips slowly compressed together. “I, ah, appreciate the sentiment.” But what he appreciated even more was his self-discipline, because right now he was fucking dying with the need to laugh his damn head off.
Conana.
She had called his damn cock a conana, which according to her was a botanical aberration.
The prince took a deep breath.
What. The. Fuck.
“Are you okay?” Fawn managed to ask even though her body was still quivering inside with unchecked need.
The prince answered her with a nod, but he still continued to stare at her with a strongly clenched jaw, almost like he was suppressing himself of—-
Probably wrath, she thought glumly. No doubt the prince didn’t appreciate that she had christened his cock with a name more fit for an alien form. She looked at him again, just in time to see him pull his phone out of his pocket.
“Who are you calling?”
“Bennett.”
“Oh. Okay.” And then it sank in, who he was calling, and she sputtered, “Wait. What?” She shook her head, stammering, “Stop calling him.”
“But you’re ready to talk to him now—-”
“No,” she half shrieked at him, “I’m not.”
“Yes,” the prince countered calmly, “you are.” And he pressed the Call button on the phone as if challenging her to prove it.
The phone started to ring.
“Prince, put it down, please—-”
“You need to talk to him now, parthena mou. Didn’t you say you wanted revenge?”
“Yes—-”
“Then this is the way to do it. Talk to him and make him sweat.”
The phone continued to ring, and she began to panic. “I don’t want to do this, I’m not ready—-”
“Trust me. You are. You will talk to Bennett, and you will make him think, but he won’t be entirely sure that you know something.”
“But—-”
The call connected, and she froze.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
The prince pressed the loudspeaker button.
“…is this? Hello?”
Her eyes flew to the prince.
He raised a brow. Say something.
She swallowed.
The prince laid his phone on the seat before taking her hand.
Fawn blinked in pleasant surprise. It was really sweet of him to hold her hand while she forced herself to-—
He took her fingers into his mouth.
She choked in surprise, and a second later they both heard Grant curse under his breath, just before he said, “Fawn?”
She jerked. How had he recognized her gasp?
“Is that you?” Panic tinged his voice. “Fawn?” They heard a scuffling sound in the background, like two people fighting, and then they heard a feminine cry of protest, like a stray cat that had been kicked out of its temporary shelter.
The prince’s eyes gleamed. I told you. Make him sweat.
“Hello?”
Fawn swallowed. “G-Grant, it’s me.” Her voice shook.
“Fawn. I knew it was you.” But Grant’s voice sounded more uncomfortable than relieved. “Whose number is this?”
“The prince.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you using his phone?” Grant demanded.
“I was c-calling you when my phone ran out of batt. S-so the prince lent me…his.” Her voice caught in the end again, and she sucked her breath in. Lies. Everything she had said was a lie, and she didn’t even know where they were coming from.
“I’m glad you called me then.” Grant’s voice lowered. “I’ve been thinking about you—-”
The prince suddenly ended the call.
She stared at him incredulously. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I still have to make you come,” the prince answered simply, “and I don’t like wasting another second on that asshole.”
Even as she choked and laughed at his answer, the prince didn’t stop pulling her tightly against him. When their bodies pressed against each other, his hands left her waist, moving down—-
She stiffened when his hand reached for her body under her skirt.
Fawn started. “P-Prince—-”
“Ssh. Relax and just let yourself enjoy it.”
She closed her eyes.
Relax—-
But then his fingers went inside her panties.
Aaaaah!
The sensation was like no other, and a sob of shocked pleasure rushed out of her throat.
