Protect the Prince

by Estep, Jennifer

  Even though it was only a short distance away, it seemed to take me forever to reach the gardens. With every quick step and swish of my gown, my heart hammered a little faster in my chest. By the time I made it to my destination, my body was thrumming with anticipation.

  Sullivan whirled around at the rustle of my skirt. I slowed down and stopped in front of him. His blue gaze raked over me just as it had before in the ballroom, and heat sparked in his eyes—the same heat that was running through my own body.

  He held out his hand, and I took it.

  Still staring at me, Sullivan pulled me into the gardens. He led me down a path and into the hedge maze. It was darker in here, but he knew exactly where he was going, and he guided me through the twists and turns. Eventually, the rows of evergreen bushes fell away, revealing the trees and flowers that flanked the gazebo in the heart of the maze.

  Just like the throne room, the gazebo had been decked out in strings of gray and white fluorestones that wrapped around the railing before climbing up the columns and spreading out across the roof. It was a beautiful, dreamy scene, and I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic spot.

  Sullivan pulled me into the center of the gazebo, then dropped my hand. We stood there, facing each other, both of us breathing hard. My heart kept hammering in my chest, even as more and more anticipation surged through my body, but I didn’t move toward him.

  Our last few months together had been building up to this one moment, the one I had dreamed about, and the one I had prepared for by taking all the appropriate herbs and precautions. And now that it was finally here, I wanted to make it last as long as possible.

  Sullivan stared back at me, drinking me in the same way that I was him. Then slowly, very, very slowly, he stepped toward me. My breath caught in my throat, and I fisted my hands in the folds of my gown, still trying to make the moment last as long as possible.

  He lifted his hand and gently cupped my cheek, his fingers splaying over my face as though he wanted to feel as much of my skin as possible at one time. I sucked in a breath at the warmth of his skin against mine.

  He took another step toward me and curled his other hand around my waist. This time, my breath caught in my throat.

  He took a third and final step toward me, and I swayed closer to him.

  Sullivan stared at me a heartbeat longer, then lowered his head and crushed his lips to mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The kiss was everything I had ever imagined.

  Everything I had ever dreamed about when I was lying in bed late at night, picturing him beside me.

  Everything I had ever wished and hoped and thought it would be.

  And then some.

  Sullivan’s lips crashed into mine, and he growled and pulled me even closer so that our bodies were flush together from lips to chests to thighs. I tangled my fingers in his hair and kissed him back just as feverishly. Our lips and tongues dueled together the same way we had in the gladiator training ring, each one of us fighting for dominance, although the pleasure we brought each other made us both the victors.

  Even as I kissed and kissed him, my hands trailed along his neck, then across his broad shoulders and down his muscled chest. I splayed my fingers over his heart the same way he had touched my face. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I could hear and feel the frantic beating of his heart. Or perhaps that was my own heart picking up speed with each passing second.

  That first touch of our lips together ignited every single nerve ending in my body, and hot, electric desire crackled through my veins, stronger than any magier’s lightning. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything, and I was finally going to have him.

  In between kisses, I grabbed Sullivan’s jacket and tugged him backward with me. I was heading for one of the cushioned benches that lined the gazebo, but Sullivan had other ideas, and he pinned me up against one of the columns and tore his mouth away from mine. I dug my hands into his hair, feeling the silky locks slide through my fingers even as his lips scorched a path down my neck and chest.

  Sullivan reached the sweetheart neckline of my dress, and he pushed the fabric aside, exposing one of my breasts. My nipple hardened in the cool night air.

  His bright, fierce gaze locked with mine. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he rasped.

  He dipped his head and swirled his tongue around my nipple before catching it in his teeth and nibbling it gently. I gasped with pleasure, and he sucked on it hard. I gasped again, louder this time, and more of that hot, electric desire sizzled through me.

  “I love it when you make that sound,” he growled.

  I dug my fingers into his hair again, urging him on. Sullivan lavished attention on that breast, then exposed the other one and did the same thing to it, making more and more pleasure spike through me.

  He lifted his head, and I cupped his face in my hands and crushed my lips to his. Our tongues dueled together again, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to touch him the same way that he had touched me, so I broke off the kiss and went to work on the buttons on his jacket. The second that the last one slid free, Sullivan stripped off the jacket and tossed it aside. I yanked on his tunic, and he lifted his arms so that I could pull it all the way up and over his head and off.

  I tossed the shirt aside, then stared at his bare chest, which was all hard, glorious muscle, dotted here and there with white lines and a few other small, puckered scars. I ran my finger down one of the marks that cut close to his heart.

  “The hazards of working for a gladiator troupe,” he explained.

  “Well, then, let me kiss them and make them better.”

  I leaned forward and softly kissed that scar, along with his other ones. Sullivan stood rock-still, but every touch of my lips and slide of my tongue made him tremble.

  “Amazing,” I murmured. “Even your skin tastes like vanilla and spice.”

  I started to kiss his scars again, but Sullivan put his finger under my chin, lifting my head. Then he dropped his hand and stepped away from me.

  “Are you sure you want this?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “Are you sure you want . . . me?”

  The faint tremor in his voice made my heart ache. He wasn’t just asking about the sex. He wanted me to want him, bastard prince and all. And I did—more than he would ever know.

  I stepped forward, cupped his face in my hands, and stared into his eyes. “I’ve never been more certain about anything, Sully.”

  All sorts of emotions flashed in his eyes. Relief. Satisfaction. And something that was much hotter and far deeper than mere desire, something that was so intense and electric that it took my breath away.

  He stared at me a moment longer, then reached down and grabbed the bottom of my dress, lifting my skirt up and out of the way. I hissed as his warm hands skimmed my bare thighs, then slid higher. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of my silky undergarments, then drew them down. I stepped out of them, and he tossed them aside. They landed in a pile with his jacket and tunic.

  He dropped to his knees in front of me, grabbed one of my legs, and slowly, carefully hooked it up and over his shoulder. His gaze on mine, he reached out and stroked my soft, dark curls. I tensed with anticipation.

  Sullivan gave me a wicked grin. “Let’s see how you taste, highness.”

  He leaned forward, licking, nibbling, and sucking on my core just like he’d done to my breasts. Jolt after jolt of pleasure spiked through me, my entire body trembled, and I had to wrap my hands around the column behind me for support.

  He stopped and looked up at me. “I love how you taste,” he growled.

  He leaned forward and went to work with his mouth again, swirling his tongue around, even as he stroked me with his fingers. The pressure in my body built and built until it suddenly exploded in a fiery wave of pleasure. I groaned as the orgasm ripped through me, and my body went limp and languid.

  Sullivan carefully slid my leg off his shoulder and got to his feet. He leaned forward to kiss me
again, but I reached out, grabbed his shoulders, spun him around, and pinned him up against the column.

  “My turn,” I rasped.

  “I always do as my queen commands,” he murmured.

  I ran my hands over his bare chest again, slowly trailing my fingers down, down, down . . . I cupped his hard, thick cock through his leggings, making him hiss with pleasure. Then I grabbed the laces on his leggings, slowly undoing them. It didn’t take me long, and I slid my hand inside his pants, stroking him the same way that he had me.

  Sullivan groaned. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert in torture, highness.”

  “Oh, Sully. I haven’t begun to torture you yet.”

  I gave him another wicked smile, then dropped to my knees and ran my tongue over him, licking, nibbling, and sucking, just as he had done to me. Sullivan groaned again, and his body jerked and twitched as he fought for control.

  Finally, he let out another growl, reached down, and eased me away from him. Then he dropped down to his knees as well. We stared at each other for a moment, both of us breathing hard, knowing what was coming next.

  Then, with one thought, we came together.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him even more feverishly. I thrust my tongue into his mouth over and over, and he matched me move for move. Sullivan kneaded my breasts again, then grabbed me around the waist, pulling me even closer. The next thing I knew, he was falling back against the gazebo floor and carrying me along with him.

  Sullivan grabbed my skirt again, pulling it up and out of the way, even as I yanked the laces of his pants aside. I leaned forward, looming over him, and he reached up and gently caressed my cheek. Still staring at him, I moved forward, then slid down on top of his cock, taking him deep inside me.

  We both groaned at how fantastic it felt.

  I pulled back a little, then slid forward again. And then again. And then again.

  Sullivan put his hands on my hips, urging me on, even as he pumped his hips up to meet mine. Our breaths came in ragged gasps, even as our movements became quicker, harder, faster. Even though he was all that I could feel, hear, taste, smell, it wasn’t enough, and I still needed—wanted—more.

  Sullivan drew me down on top of him, then rolled me over onto my back. Our gazes met and held for a long, intense moment. Then I locked my legs around his waist, and he thrust even deeper into me. And he didn’t stop.

  Over and over, we rocked together, that exquisite pressure building and building, until it finally coursed through us both in one bright, hot, electric explosion.

  * * *

  Afterward, we lay on the gazebo floor, our arms wrapped around each other.

  I sighed with happiness. “I wish the world would stop and I could stay here forever.”

  Sullivan’s arms tightened around me. “Me too, highness. Me too.”

  I nuzzled my face into his neck, drinking in his clean vanilla scent. I let myself inhale it over and over again, imprinting it and this one perfect moment into my mind. Then, when I was sure that I would always remember it, that I would always remember him and how he’d made me feel, I slowly disentangled my body from his and sat up.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Unfortunately, duty calls, and I have to go back to the ball.”

  I pulled my neckline up where it belonged, then got to my feet and retrieved my undergarments from where they had landed. I slid those on and smoothed down my skirt. My hair was a tangled mess, so I ran my fingers through the locks, trying to straighten them out.

  Sullivan sat up as well. “What do you mean you have to go back to the ball?”

  “I need to check on Dominic.”

  I was worrying about Helene and how she still might target the crown prince, so I said the words without really thinking about them.

  “I see,” Sullivan said in a cold, flat voice. “Going to make sure you’re still engaged to my brother even after you just spent the last half hour fucking me?”

  I grimaced. Too late, I realized that it was exactly the wrong thing to say, especially to Sullivan, and especially given what had just happened between us.

  “That’s not what I meant. You don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly,” he snapped. “We had a nice little rendezvous, but it’s over now. You care about me, just not enough to choose me over Dominic, and I’m getting passed over for my brother yet again. I truly am the biggest fool, never learning that lesson.”

  Sullivan surged to his feet, stalked over, and grabbed his clothes. He yanked on his tunic with sharp, angry motions.

  I opened my mouth to tell him everything. How I had never intended to marry Dominic, how I thought that Helene had poisoned Heinrich, how our friends were watching to make sure Mortan assassins didn’t hurt his father or brother during the ball. I was going to confess it all and ask for his understanding and forgiveness.

  But then a gust of wind blew through the gazebo, bringing a familiar scent along with it—the hot, caustic stench of magic.

  I froze, wondering if I’d only imagined the aroma. My nose twitched, and I drew in a breath, tasting the air. The scent came again, stronger than before.

  My stomach dropped. The last time I had smelled this particular stench of magic had been on the royal lawn at Seven Spire the night I had killed Vasilia. The scent now meant the same thing as it had then.

  Once again, someone wanted to kill me.

  I drew in another breath, this time to warn Sullivan, but more and more magic flooded the air, far too much magic for just one person. My stomach clenched again. Unless I was gravely mistaken, my would-be murderer had brought several magiers here.

  My gaze snapped back and forth, searching the area beyond the gazebo, but all I saw were the trees, flowers, pond, and hedge maze. I wondered how long the magiers had been out there. The thought that they had seen and heard my passion with Sullivan disgusted me, but I forced the emotion aside.

  Instead, another thought rose up in my mind—why were they holding their positions, instead of surging forward and attacking us? They should strike now, while Sullivan was distracted and the two of us were isolated. But I didn’t get the sense that the magiers were creeping any closer. So what were they waiting for?

  Sullivan shrugged into his jacket, and a bit of blue lightning sizzled out of his fingertips and sparked against the silver buttons as he fastened them. And I suddenly realized why the magiers were holding their positions.

  They were waiting for Sullivan to leave before they killed me.

  After all, they would have a far easier time murdering me if he wasn’t around. And the assassins probably wanted to keep things quiet as they killed me so they could escape afterward. Battling Sullivan and his lightning would definitely not be easy or quiet.

  Sullivan didn’t have my mutt magic, so he didn’t sense the other magiers. Instead, he finished buttoning up his jacket, then turned toward me, an angry expression on his face.

  “Well, highness?” he snapped. “What don’t I understand?”

  In that moment, I knew what I had to do. The magiers were waiting for Sullivan to leave, and I was going to give them exactly what they wanted. There were too many magiers for Sullivan and me to fight off, and I wasn’t going to let him die because of me.

  I had to protect the prince one last time, even if that meant hurting him yet again with my words.

  I shrugged. “Apparently, you don’t understand how the world really works, Sully. Helene tried to explain it to you the other night in her greenhouse, but I see that it just didn’t sink in.”

  His jaw clenched. “You were spying on Helene and me? Why?”

  I shrugged again. “I was roaming the halls, looking for you, hoping to apologize, when I saw you enter her workshop. So I crept up and cracked open the door. I heard everything the two of you said.”

  It wasn’t exactly the truth, but what was one more lie at this point?

  “And what did Helene say then that you find so relev
ant now?” Sullivan growled.

  “That sometimes people have to do things they don’t like for the greater good.” I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. “I am the queen of Bellona, and I have to make sacrifices for my people, for my kingdom, whether I want to or not.”

  “Like marrying Dominic?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “So what was this?” he asked, throwing his hands out wide. “Why did you come with me, if you’re still so dead set on marrying my brother?”

  I braced myself for what I had to say next. “It’s no secret that I’ve wanted you for months, Sully. And the feeling was mutual. Tonight, we both finally got what we wanted.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “And now what? You’re done with me? Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” I kept my face cold as I stared at him. “What did you think was going to happen? That I would break off my engagement with Dominic just because we fucked? You should have known better. You said it yourself that queens don’t consort with bastard princes.”

  He jerked back as though I had slapped him. Hurt flickered in his eyes, and the twin scents of his dusty resignation and ashy heartbreak burned my nose. But I still hadn’t made him angry enough to storm off to safety, so I decided to twist my verbal daggers in even deeper.

  “Why did you dance with me in the ballroom?” I asked. “Why did you bring me here?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that what happened between us was more about Dominic than it ever was about me.” I tilted my head to the side, studying him. “After all, what better way to finally beat your brother than by stealing me away from our engagement party and fucking me?”

  Sullivan flinched again. “That’s not why I brought you here. I wanted to show you how I feel about you. This doesn’t have anything to do with Dominic.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But it’s a nice bonus, isn’t it? Showing Dominic, Heinrich, and the nobles that I care about you more than I ever will about him. Rubbing your brother’s face in the fact that I left the ballroom with you instead of him.”