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He is jealous as shit, and I’m…well, I’m starting to get turned on by the idea despite myself.
“He…” Torben grits out the words as if they are coming to him in barely-there moments of clarity.
He stalks forward.
What in the world?
I’ve never seen anyone behave like this over a darn massage.
Inside, I’m trembling, but the words that come out of my mouth are pure vinegar. “What gives you the right? Who turned you upside down and shook something loose?”
And then, Torben is on me.
The wet, naked man has dropped his towel. The prince presses me hard against the door, his mouth on my mouth, his ragged breath opening up all of my floodgates, and his tongue…oh gosh…his tongue surges against mine, sending my pulse rushing every which way through my veins.
I’m as hot and ready as a fresh Krispy Kreme.
I have the fleeting thought to tell him to stop, to take his tongue out of my mouth, to put some clothes on, to not bracket my arms up against the door like that, to stop breathing like a rabid beast, to not rub his cock up against the slit of my bathrobe like that. I should tell him to stop mashing his body against my tits, rubbing seemingly everywhere and making my nipples tight and needy.
I get my chance to protest when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe, his eyes still full of fire. I open my mouth to speak, but I have no words. Only need.
Say something. Tell him to go take a cold shower. Tell him you ain’t doing this because you are a good girl who doesn’t have sex unless she cares about somebody.
Do I care about this man?
The momentary shared gaze answers that question, and even if it didn’t, I don’t know that I would care.
Any notion that I might protest is drowned out by the rush of blood to my nethers as Torben’s mouth finds its way to my throat, where he heaves the sigh of a desperate man finally getting what he wants. The hibernating bear has come out of hiding and found a treasure trove of berries and honey.
“Torben,” I squeak.
He pauses, pulls back, and looks me in the eyes, his brows drawn together in concern, though his fists remain like shackles around the tender flesh of my upper arms.
“Hailey, I…”
Torben looks dazed. He might be preparing to apologize or some nonsense.
No, sir, there won’t be any of that happening. Not right now.
“Shh,” I say. “Let go of me so I can touch you.”
His grip loosens, and my arms fall around his neck, still radiating from the enticing lock he had on me.
I cup the side of his face, noticing how soft the scruff is there, how that strong jaw and perfect chin make the kissing all that much more fun.
I run the pad of my thumb over his mouth.
He blinks, his breath hitching.
“You were jealous,” I whisper, still in awe at what’s happening.
I run my hand down his throat, my palms noting the rise and fall of his broad chest, the soft fur tickling my fingers.
He grunts something like “yes,” but the sound has more in it than yes. It’s laced with frustration and confusion.
“Torben. Did you really think for a second that I was having sex with someone else right next to your bedroom?”
“No,” he rasps, his jaw working so hard it’s all I can do to keep from licking it. “Also, yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know anything except you’re mine. Mine.”
