Defiant Prince: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Black Rose University Book 1)

by A G Henderson

  The tuft of red-blonde curls. The obvious slickness of her pussy lips. The delectable musk that floated inside my brain and overwrote every other thought.

  “Spread yourself,” I rasped.

  Pouty lips formed an O of surprise. Still, when I hiked a thigh over my shoulder and pressed in closer, lifting a brow, she surrendered. Slim fingers skated down her waist, settling over her cleft. She used two of them to spread her pink petals, baring herself—and her generous cream—to my waiting hunger.

  I didn’t waste time on an appetizer. My tongue plunged inside her like it was lightning in the storm and she was the rod.

  “Oh, fuck,” she gasped, head falling against the door with an audible thunk.

  I lapped at her flesh, a man starved and half-crazed. My fingers tightened along her waist when she writhed against me, squeezing until she whimpered and clutched my shoulders.

  Every flick of my tongue at her perfect heat brought a brand-new sound into existence. She yelped and moaned and growled, each one slightly different from the last, an immaculate orchestra that only I could direct.

  Her first orgasm surprised us both. The only warning was her nails biting into my shoulders. It came on the tail end of a strangled cry, and her walls clenched so tightly that my tongue was forced out.

  Her hips bucked into my face with wild abandon and I settled my teeth over her clit, lightly biting as her whole body trembled, her lashes fluttered, and the cords in her neck strained.

  At the last second, I remembered our night in the pool and clamped a hand over her mouth. Just in time. She screamed with her entire soul and even the width of my palm barely contained it.

  I didn’t really give a damn about the volume, but the police being called would be a less than stellar interruption.

  Emily fell back against the door, boneless, while I dragged my tongue through her slit once more, swallowing the rest of her cream and enjoying how she smiled watching me. Her hands skimmed up my neck.

  “Watch the hair,” I teased, biting at her hip as I let her other foot down from my shoulder.

  Her pussy was bright red and swollen. Bruises blossomed along her waist, matching where my fingers had pressed down. I committed my handiwork to memory, unreasonably pleased by how good she looked messy and sated.

  “Why’s that?” She slipped her fingers through my hair, tousling it. “Worried somebody might find out about your dirty little secret.”

  A sharp response was on the tip of my tongue, but the hidden barb to her words dug into my brain and tugged, refusing to let go.

  I watched her carefully, letting her stew in the silence. There was a guard behind her eyes that wasn’t there a second ago, and I repeated what she’d said until I made sense out of it.

  Did she think I cared about people making assumptions?

  My eyes narrowed when she bit her lip and glanced away. No. This wasn’t about me at all, at least not completely. This was about whatever other bullshit her mom had filled her head with, beyond the embarrassment she’d caused in a room full of people.

  I stood in a rush, hand closing over her neck so I could tilt her chin with my thumb. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly before meeting mine again. I kept our gazes locked as I licked my lips, savoring her taste.

  As I unbuttoned my shirt and dropped it to the side.

  As I leaned in again, bringing our faces so close we were basically kissing already, lips the faintest ghost of a touch against the other’s.

  Voice low, I promised her, “Any guy on this planet worth the balls dangling between his legs could only be considered a lucky motherfucker if you gave him the time of day.”

  Her breathing caught and I waited, still as a statue, for her to read the honesty in my voice and my expression.

  When she stayed quiet, her uncertainty plain, I managed a slight grin.

  “Want me to walk out there like this and enlighten all those stuffy, rich fuckers?” I waved a hand down my naked torso. “Because I will.”

  Her eyes rounded. “Our parents are out there!”

  “That’s not a no.”

  I slid her out of the way, pulling the door open a crack before she slammed it closed with both hands.

  Refusing to budge, I gave her another patented smirk. “Well? What’s it gonna be?”

  Decide, my eyes said. Before I decide for you.

  21

  Emily

  If you’d told me this morning I would be mostly naked, trying to keep my half-naked partner in crime from stepping into a busy restaurant with his lips still wet from my pussy and his neck red from my nails, I’m not sure I would’ve managed so much as a laugh.

  Maybe a blink at the most.

  It was too ridiculous. Too comical. The kind of stunt you might expect to see on the big screen instead of playing out in real life.

  Yet here we were.

  I latched onto Ambrose’s wrist with both hands when he gripped the doorknob again, that sculpted brow of his nearly to his perfect hairline.

  He was just...too good-looking. It wasn’t even fair. I’d seen him shirtless in the pool and the morning after. When was I going to develop a resistance to what those chiseled abs, taut pecs, and veiny arms did to my poor, unprepared ovaries?

  Probably never, my brain helpfully supplied.

  I wasn’t in a position to disagree. Not when looking at him brought back the throb between my legs like his tongue hadn’t just blown my mind a few minutes prior. Ugh, he probably would’ve been inside me already if I hadn’t opened my big mouth and let blatant insecurity pour out of it.

  I shouldn’t have said anything. Those dark eyes had burned with need and appreciation as he took me in. They kept burning, so hot against my skin I could barely stand still beneath his alpha-male smolder.

  There were few things in existence more primal and attractive than a man fresh off his latest conquest. Something about that insatiable gleam in their eyes always slayed me, and it was at its strongest ever coming from Ambrose.

  He affected me differently. More powerfully than anyone else ever had.

  I always called the shots with guys and set the pace. With him? It scared me how easily I’d surrendered to his will, letting him have me however he wanted. It scared me more that the need to sacrifice myself to the devil behind those dark eyes and see just how far he’d take things hadn’t waned in the slightest.

  The acceptance of my defeat must have shown on my face. He let go of the door, giving me the full weight of his attention.

  “I’m bad for you,” he said in that soft voice. The one that made me sway closer to catch his words like they were too precious to be missed.

  Did he not realize that his constant warnings had the opposite effect?

  I knew firsthand that he could be rude, demanding, and downright cruel when he decided to be. There was something dark at the center of Ambrose LaCroix. Something haunted, twisted by factors unknown to me. And maybe I was delusional, blinded by the intensity of our tenuous connection.

  But when he gave me these honest warnings, I felt like I was getting a private glimpse behind the curtain. A front-row seat to the boy he used to be before he became this inevitable specter, merging with the man who would be an even greater force to be reckoned with.

  I swear, this guy was killing me with the most honest of intentions.

  I wanted to surrender. I wanted to pretend I was his, even if it was only for this moment. I wanted to dance in his darkness and feel alive beneath the sharp claws of his desire.

  An annoyed rumble shook his chest. “Are you listening, or did I lose you to whatever goes on in that odd brain of yours?”

  Instead of answering, I shimmied out of my skirt, laughing softly at the low oaths he swore. Backing away from him, I shed my blouse. A muscle in his jaw jumped. I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor, resting my naked thighs against the cold wood of the desk behind me. He took a step forward, then another.

  Action and reaction. The fundamental forces of the univ
erse broken down into their simplest forms. Stretched taut in between us as I lifted myself onto the desk, spread my legs, and waited for him to fill the space between them.

  He muttered something under his breath and scrubbed a hand down his jaw. But as his eyes became two black holes, devouring every inch of me, he ditched his pants, sculpted muscles rippling with each movement.

  His thumbs hooked into his underwear and I held my breath as he dragged them down, revealing the swollen dick I hadn’t gotten to appreciate for nearly long enough the first time.

  He was big enough to be intimidating, veiny and thick with a slight tilt that made my hips wiggle in anticipation while my inner walls clenched around nothing.

  Ambrose stalked toward me, silent and graceful, the roll of his body and the bobbing of his dick undeniably hypnotic.

  All that tanned skin and muscle lulled me into a trance, and I didn’t snap out of it until his hand swept out, catching my neck in a brutal grip that was becoming quite familiar.

  He stepped between my thighs. His dick was a brand against my stomach. His shoulders spanned from wall to wall, blocking out everything behind him. His dominance was a bared blade, a threat, and a deadly thrill wrapped together.

  He was bigger than me. Stronger than me. More brutal than me.

  His grip on my neck tightened and I fought to pull air into my lungs while I watched him.

  I was prey in the grasp of the hunter, and so excited to be there that surely it meant something was wrong with me.

  His other hand curved around my hip. Long fingers splayed across my ass before digging in. I rocked against him, breathing hard, almost cross-eyed with need.

  Knowing it would spur him on and snap that last thread of restraint, I locked my legs around his waist.

  “Hold your fucking horses,” he growled, pulling back long enough to snatch his pants from the floor and grab a condom.

  “Then stop making me wait,” I breathed, watching as he ripped into the foil packet and rolled the condom along his length. How did he make something so clinical sexy?

  I could watch him in the act a thousand times and never get bored.

  Demanding fingers spread my thighs farther apart as he lined himself up with my entrance. His whole body tensed, and I breathed a sigh of relief that sent those dark orbs racing over my face again.

  He pulled me onto his dick, filling me in one savage rush that was punishing and perfect.

  I buried my teeth in the hollow of his throat, letting his body muffle my scream as my pussy stretched and made room for him.

  My voice must’ve carried despite my efforts, because a knock came at the door right as Ambrose pulled his hips back, ready to fuck my brains out—maybe literally.

  Before whoever it was had a chance to speak, he snarled, “Leave or die!”

  No more knocks came after that. I giggled at how fast they’d fled the scene and his shoulders tensed.

  That was my only warning before he plunged inside me hard enough that our skin slapped together and stars exploded in my vision.

  “Something funny?” he prodded, wrapping one giant palm around the back of my neck.

  God, he was devastating without trying. All riled up like this? There just weren’t words. Action would have to do instead.

  I gripped his firm ass—seriously, where’s a quarter when you need one?—and pulled him into me.

  His dick bumped against a spot that hadn’t gotten nearly enough loving recently and I all but melted.

  Why had this ever been a bad idea?

  With him buried so deep I could taste him at the back of my throat, I had a hard time remembering.

  He squeezed my neck and I lifted my eyes to his. “Even though you’re a pain in my ass, you’re a goddamn masterpiece.” His lopsided smile gripped my heart and refused to let go. “The next time you claim differently, we’re going to have problems.”

  “Next time?” I leaned in to bite at his chest, loving the way his abs tensed and his dick jumped inside me. It also hid the renewed flush to my cheeks. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Ro.”

  His eyes narrowed. I was being evasive as fuck and we both knew it.

  But he made me weak. I didn’t trust myself to respond to his compliments without spilling my guts.

  That wasn’t us.

  It never would be.

  Our bodies fitting together like they were made for each other was just a happy coincidence.

  Sensing the barricade I’d erected, he let it drop. Thank God. The only thing I wanted to feel was all nine or so inches of him wrecking me until I couldn’t walk right.

  His grip turned bruising again as he set a slow pace, the motion of his hips as smooth as the tide lapping at the shore. I’d never seen him dance, and doubted I ever would, but I knew it would be fucking epic.

  Death had rhythm. I guess I should’ve seen that coming.

  Each slow roll of his hips was smooth and full of purpose. Meant to drag his hot flesh against my inner walls until I knew my body would remember his shape long after this was done.

  The ache in my core amplified and my entire body throbbed. My pulse was in my neck, and the devilish monster he was, his gaze followed the line of my throat where my lifeblood pumped with wild abandon.

  Taking his sweet time, even with my nails in his back urging him on, he leaned in and dragged his tongue down my neck.

  I shivered in his rough grip, readjusting my leg lock once he found a rhythm that allowed him to keep his slow pace while still driving inside me hard enough to knock random shit off the desk.

  Arching my back, I let my nipples find delicious friction against his bare chest. I sucked in another sharp breath at the sensation but found no relief. The taste of him was on my tongue, in the air, mingling with his clean scent, all around me until I was the helpless star being pulled inevitably closer to the event horizon that was Ambrose LaCroix.

  “How?” He dipped his head, biting at the swell of my breast. “How is your body even better than it was in my dreams?”

  My body clamped down on him so hard we both hissed a breath between our teeth. I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want this to ever end.

  I curled my fingers in his hair, holding onto him as his pace increased and something glass fell onto the floor and shattered. “You dreamed about me? How sweet?”

  “Don’t get carried away.” He pinched my nipple and a shockwave rippled from my core, leaving me trembling and weak. “It was more like a nightmare. All this sweet, soft, pale skin.” His hands swept up and down my sides, settling on my ass where his grip anchored. “It was like you were made to haunt my every waking moment.”

  His dick bumped against my sweet spot and my toes curled, eyes rolling back in my head as I released a low, throaty moan. A smirk curled his lips at the sound, and I let my nails dig into his skin.

  “If you dare fucking stop,” I threatened, “I’ll show you what it means to be haunted.”

  “Are you close?” Our hips bucked together in a wild frenzy, the sounds of slapping flesh meeting the air. This whole room was going to smell like sex and I couldn’t bring myself to care. “Are you going to come all over this dick, cupcake girl?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, body hurtling towards the precipice.

  His hands marking me.

  His dick spreading me open.

  His scent in my nose and the taste of his skin on my tongue.

  I was helpless. I was consumed. I was right...fucking...there.

  “Then show me,” he growled, taking hold of my neck once more and squeezing. “Let me see you when you come apart. Let me feel this tight pussy trying to milk me dry. Let me hear the sounds you make when I destroy you.”

  The heat in his words. The barely hidden threat of his unbreakable grip around my very breakable neck. The tiny sips of air he allowed me.

  All those things became the arrow, and my body was the target. My sudden climax was a tailspin that stole my sight as my entire body locked up a se
cond before exploding in every direction.

  Fireworks? No. Entire galaxies exploded in blinding bursts, painting my world bright white. I had just enough sense to bury my head against his shoulder and bite down to silence my ragged scream.

  The taste of copper and salt flooded my mouth, and I got drunk on the vicious way he grunted and took what he wanted from my body before spilling himself on a groan so deep that my body vibrated.

  Waves continued to pulse through me as he stilled and my body spasmed out of my control. Gradually, my vision returned to see him staring down at me, dark eyes still molten. Warmth that went beyond the sheen of sweat stuck to our skin settled in my chest, and when his focus dropped to my lips, I almost forgot myself.

  His head lowered.

  His breath mingled with mine.

  His lips brushed against my lips, barely there, feather-light. And I almost forgot that the last time I let a guy kiss me it ended with me broken, abandoned, and listening to a chorus of mocking laughter while my heart split into bloody fragments.

  Buried memories made my knee ache. I turned my head at the last second and his lips pressed against my cheek. I closed my eyes, struggling to find the strength to make it through this moment now that my heart was a pulsing, open wound without shelter.

  I winced as his dick slipped from me and the gravity of my actions came surging to the forefront.

  Oh God, my parents were still out there. It wasn’t like I could hide this. Without even touching my neck, I could tell the skin there was extra sensitive. My pale skin probably had a full handprint.

  I refused to feel bad about what I’d done, but the thought of facing their judgment—Mom’s especially—made my stomach tighten, threatening to crush the relaxed butterflies Ambrose had given me.

  He’d stolen me away from the real world. Now it was back, ready for revenge. Except I didn’t have the strength to go another round just yet. I hadn’t even eaten.

  To keep the cold fingers of panic at bay, I flipped through cookbooks in my mind, repeating recipes I knew by heart. Not great for my hunger, but better than losing it completely.