AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“But what if that’s all I want? I don’t need the whole fairytale. I just want the prince.”
I rest my hand on his leg, squeezing until he closes his eyes.
“Fuck, Iz.”
But he doesn’t stop me when my hand slides up his thigh. In fact, his hard, bare chest exposes his rapid breathing when he leans back on his hands, practically offering his body to me.
“Do you want me to stop?” I whisper, pushing further up his leg.
He shakes his head, hissing in a breath when I reach the thickening bulge. I love his quiet groan as I work his body through the soft fabric. When he settles back further, I burn to take what I want.
His head tilts back as I reach inside. Breathing hard, he’s the picture of my own personal Adonis when I free him from his pants and take in every detail of my wounded prince. Who needs a fairytale when you can live your greatest fantasy?
I pull off my top and squirm out of my jeans, loving the pained look on his face as he watches me. I know how he feels. As much as I want to touch him again, seeing him there like that, exposed and vulnerable—sotrusting—is almost a greater satisfaction than having him in my hands.
Almost.
I climb onto his lap, straddling him with a shudder of awareness. He inhales sharply when I start to move against him, still gazing into my eyes and telling me what he can’t with words. I stare back, silently accepting everything he’s willing to share, everything that he is. My gaze drops to his lips, which might be the most delicious thing mine have ever craved.
I lean in to taste them. Pure bliss.
We melt into the kiss, and I grasp his head in my hands to devour him completely. Our tongues meet and battle to the instinctive rhythm of our hungry bodies. A fire builds with the intensifying cadence, and the pressure between my thighs is almost too much to handle.
“Please, Tristan,” I gasp through a desperate kiss. “Just one more time.”
He looks pained as he nods. It kills me that he has to torture himself to accept what he wants. That he hates himself so much, any good thing becomes bad. Including this. I should be the stronger person. I should have mercy and prevent another regret for him, but he doesn’t understand what it’s like to look at him. To touch him. To hold him in your arms and pretend even for a fraction of a second he’s yours.
“You’re so beautiful, inside and out,” I say, devouring his lips. His jaw. His neck. Anywhere I can reach, while he’s still mine. “I’m not going to stop until you believe you that.”
He doesn’t respond, but the way he locks his grip in my hair and matches my aggression says everything.
“In my bed this time,” I say, tugging him up, while still kissing him.
He hesitates for just a second before reaching for his bag.
I drag him to my room, impatient as I shut the door and shove him on my bed. Climbing on top, I resume our desperate kiss, as if that short delay was too much. Maybe it was. I already sense the magical clock ticking down to midnight.
“Are you okay?” I ask, searching his eyes as I frame his cheeks with my palms.
“Yeah. You?”
I grin and kiss him again in response. I hear the tear of foil and my needy body is already hot with anticipation. By the time I fit myself over him, I’m beyond desperate.
My hips move slow at first, exploring him, seeking sharp spikes of pleasure. It’s quickly not enough as the need for more takes over and drives us both into a frenzied pace. He runs his hands over my thighs, squeezing on their path to my hips. Gripping hard, he matches my rhythm until the intermittent sparks become a steady fire in my belly. My toes curl, my breathing labored, as I fuel the mounting blaze. I want it to scorch me. Incinerate me, until there’s nothing left outside of this moment.
He slides his palms over my breasts, and I mold my hands on top for perfect pressure. My limbs move in harmony, every pound of my heart and nerve in my body firing in unison.
“I want this forever with you,” I gasp out, moaning when the streaks of pleasure become too much.
If he responds, it’s lost in the explosion that follows. Heat, light, love, it feels like the entire universe floods me at once as I arch into its warmth. I let it consume me, hoping just a small speck of forever will embed itself in my soul, a piece of him—ofus—I can hold onto long after our fairytale fades back into reality.
I’m on a high when we come down, shaky and weak in the best possible way. Everything feels so right. Like I’m free and invincible.
Until I see his face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned when he looks away.
“Nothing,” he mumbles.
