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8
Heather
He was so different here. Although he was comfortable and soft when we were alone, watching him walk around the castle all stern and quiet except to me felt wrong. He was this exciting and dynamic guy, but this castle seemed to suck all of the fun out of him.
Although Dralle seemed to love it, the castle took away some of his best attributes.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
From the flight to the food to the reveal that he was a prince, I felt like I’d been on a wild ride from beginning to end. I needed to be grounded back to reality, to remember who he was.
“This is my room.” He led me to a suite with a full sitting room, a sizable five-piece bathroom, and a bedroom that looked like it was taken out of a five-star hotel.
He truly lived like this?
I thought back to my dinky apartment above the garage and was suddenly embarrassed.
He saw how I lived and was still interested in me despite that?
I didn’t have enough time to pick that apart because he kissed me, and all other thoughts vanished. The way that he’d used his tongue on me the night before, the sensations his mouth offered. My kisses were worshipful just at the memory of it. He had me in pieces, and I wanted more.
I needed more.
Kissing me more profoundly, more assertively, he closed off his bedroom door and held me tight against him. Through the fabric of his shirt, I could feel the incredible muscles I got to see that morning. His body was so good, every inch I saw and there were alotof these inches.
I never gave into a guy like this before; most of my dating was one-sided, with me just trying to pass the time. I wanted Dralle. I needed him.
It felt like he needed me too.
Pulling me over to the bed, he started pulling off my top and plucking loose my bra. I giggled nervously at the feeling of cold air on my body.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. I had chills and wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold air or his laser focus on me. Kissing my chest again, he lathed kisses and hickeys over where he’d marked me the night before. My body quickened, and I could feel myself getting wet from the sensation.
My chest isn’t even that sensitive; it’s the promise of more that had me desperate and needy.
“I want to make you feel good,” he said. It was a call back to what he’d told me the night before, and my body and mind filled with the memories of how good that felt.
“You do,” I moaned as his teeth scraped my nipple.
Chuckling, he leaned back up to my face.
One of his hands wandered down to my ass, grasping and kneading as we kissed. The motion made my whole-body buzz, and my fingers flew to start shoving his clothing off of him as well.
“You like my chest,” he teased.
My face felt hot in embarrassment, and I shrugged softly. “It’s gorgeous,” I murmured. Looking down for a better view, I could see gold ribboned across it in a gorgeous pattern on Dralle’s right side.
“A tattoo?”
My fingers traced the design, and it seemed to move beneath my attention.
“It’s a mark that I’m part of the royal family,” he admitted.
“It moves.”
“It’s trying to get a good view of you too.”
I laughed at how corny that was, and he leaned up and shut me up with his lips.
