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

by A G Henderson

  Slowly, carefully, I pushed strawberry blonde locks away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. A zing of awareness passed through me when my thumb brushed her cheek. Whatever it was, I assumed she felt it too by her soft gasp.

  “What is it about you?” I whispered, gaze flicking between eyes blue as the sky and warmer than a summer night.

  “I’m awesome”—I watched her pink lips form the words more than I heard them—“obviously.”

  Her tone was light, but it did nothing to cut through the string of fate that pulled me closer and closer to her mouth.

  I was close enough to feel the minty tickle of her breath.

  Close enough to count each scattered freckle.

  Close enough to take what I’d wanted for longer than I’d been willing to admit.

  “Ro,” she warned, hands settling against my bare chest. Warm. Delicate. Hesitant.

  But she didn’t push me away.

  “Tell me to stop,” I rasped, even as I gripped her neck tighter. Even as I trailed my lips along her jaw and heard her whimper. “Tell me you still don’t want this.”

  Another low whine came from her.

  Emily opened her mouth.

  She said the wrong thing.

  “Not wanting it has never been the—“

  I slanted my mouth across hers, cutting her off. Her hands curled into fists against my chest. She stole a slice of eternity at that moment and trapped it between us. Everything paused while I waited, waited, and waited to see if she would protest. Move out from under me. Turn her head away like she’d done so many times.

  I knew if she did, it would destroy me.

  I knew if she did, I’d find a way to stop.

  She melted against me instead, opening her mouth so my tongue could sweep in.

  Inevitable.

  It was the first coherent thought I could form as our kiss deepened.

  My whole life I’d heard talk about responsibility, fate, destiny.

  For the first time, it all came together with a resounding click that settled deep in my soul and took root.

  Being here with her soft warmth molded against my hard lines while she made delectable little noises each time our tongues touched didn’t feel like chance or coincidence.

  It felt right.

  It felt promised.

  Like every step I’d ever taken—every action, good or bad—had brought me to this specific moment in time.

  Emily’s hips rolled, small hands climbing my side to wrap around my neck and pull me closer.

  I went willingly, letting her take more of my weight. If I was crushing her, she didn’t complain. Maybe she was as lost in me as I was in her. Because when my dick pressed painfully against my jeans, it was easy to ignore while need rewrote the rest of my brain cells.

  Time became something meaningless about the same moment as my slow savoring of her lips became a devouring feast.

  I sat up enough to struggle out of my jeans and underwear, and Emily came with me, pulling my bottom lip between her teeth until a groan rumbled out of my chest.

  She laughed into my mouth, but the sound died on my tongue as I undressed her with a slow patience I didn’t know I was capable of.

  I unwrapped her body like the gift it was, taking my sweet time while she laid back and watched me. When the last of the fabric between us was gone she lunged for me. I let her turn me onto my back because why wouldn’t I?

  Emily straddled my waist. The first slow roll of her hips dragged my dick through her wet, slick heat, and biting my tongue was all that kept me from driving inside of her.

  “Condom,” she hissed, repeating the smooth motion. “Where?”

  “Top drawer, far right.”

  I’d barely registered the sound of ripping foil before she had me covered.

  Then her hips were lifting.

  Her hands were pressing down on my chest.

  Her body was sheathing mine on a torturous glide that didn’t end until my dick couldn’t go any deeper, and she was making this cute as fuck little cooing noise while she adjusted to my invasion.

  Our eyes locked, almost black meeting aquamarine that seemed to shimmer with banked heat.

  A saucy grin curved her lips and my hands gripped her thighs, whole body tensing with the need to fuck more of those banshee-like screams from her.

  Emily stopped me with a quick shake of her head. “Stay just like this,” she whispered, lowering her head to run her tongue along my neck. “I want to ride you.”

  Taking orders wasn’t my forte.

  For her? I’d always make an exception.

  She watched the tension drain out of me as my muscles relaxed, and offered another grin I would’ve found condescending on anyone else.

  Even still, I could practically read the, good boy, you get a reward in her eyes.

  And fuck me but I wanted to wag my tail and let my tongue hang out in anticipation.

  Say this for Emily Brennan, say she kept her word.

  She said she would ride me and that’s exactly what she did.

  Other than where her hands and arms kept her body braced against mine, her body turned liquid.

  Her hips swirled in tight circles, each one punctuated by a short thrust that took my breath away.

  She did the same thing over and over again, never speeding up, never slowing down. Her motion was as constant as the tide lapping at the shore, and I was the grateful moon enjoying the view while I lent my weight to the slow, agonizing ebb and flow that turned us both wild.

  Sweat gathered along my brow and the curves of her hips. Her chest flushed bright red, rosebud nipples pebbled to the point it looked painful. The tendons in her slender neck stood out, features pinched, eyes closed as she tortured us both. But still, she didn’t relent.

  “Em...” I never begged, but my tone sounded pleading to my own ears.

  Buried under the sound of our gasping breaths was the fucking bitch fit my balls were throwing about needing release.

  I was swollen and throbbing, the peak so close my fingertips could almost brush against it. But I needed more. I needed to drive myself inside her with the kind of reckless abandon that meant finding release as deep as I could.

  Like she could read into what I needed from touch alone, Emily smiled. “Wait for it,” she breathed, laying her body across mine so that our chests stuck together and her ass did all the work.

  Wait for fucking what?

  But I got my answer when she shuddered and came apart around me, pussy twitching and clutching at my dick.

  A choked sob was the only sound she seemed able to make as wave after wave of trembling sensation passed. “Now,” she managed, lips brushing my ear.

  My hands turned to steel clamps around her waist. My chest bunched and flexed as I lifted her boneless, spasming form and pumped deep inside her once, twice, three times before the pressure at the base of my spine detonated and I came inside her with a low, rumbling groan.

  Emily sagged against me completely and I took her weight with ease. I pulled her head back and captured her mouth in another searing kiss that she did nothing to discourage. Meanwhile, my dick twitched and jerked, and she answered with tiny tremors.

  I sighed, relaxing into the mattress for just a moment before reality reminded me it existed.

  The sheets were in complete disarray and we both needed showers, but the only concern I could deal with at the moment was the condom. As great as this was, that was a level of messy neither of us wanted to deal with.

  I told her I needed to get up real quick and got a lazy, I’m not moving nod in response. Barely holding in my chuckle, I wrapped a hand around the back of her knee and scooted her to the side.

  Emily hissed when I did, the sound so sharp and sudden that my eyes immediately sprang open to find hers tightly clenched.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.” She tried on a weak smile that didn’t fool me for a second. “My knee,” she said, seeing the look on my face. “I think
I was a little too vigorous.”

  On the outside, I frowned. Inside?

  Way to go you fucking idiot. How’d you forget that?

  I didn’t have an answer to the inner voice currently berating me. Grunting, I let the subject drop long enough to disappear into the bathroom, take care of necessities, and return with a warm washcloth.

  “Aftercare from the devil,” she murmured as I cleaned her gently before crawling in beside her again. “It all makes sense now.”

  “What does?”

  “My life. I’ve been in hell this whole time and I just never knew it.”

  How dramatic, was my instinctual response but I bit my tongue.

  Was she suffering that badly and I hadn’t noticed?

  I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling soft curves flush against me. She shifted, and I thought she might pull away. Instead, she wiggled her ass a bit, settling in, and I had to remind my dick why it was a bad idea to slide inside her again.

  To distract myself, I glanced down at her. Eyes closed, body mostly limp still. She would’ve been the picture of afterglow if not for the bracketing lines of tension around her mouth.

  As I searched her features for some clue as to what might be troubling her, it hit me like a sack of bricks how little I actually knew about this girl who shared my bed and prime real estate in my mind.

  It bothered me. I needed answers, preferably starting with what the deal was involving her family. Something told me great sex alone wasn’t enough to broach that subject, so I went for something simpler.

  “What happened with your knee, Cupcake?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to move for like, another year at least. But if you call me that again I am going to hurt you. Cupcake girl is bad enough as it is.”

  “I’ll strike it from memory in return for an answer.”

  “You really like bargains, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm...at least you’re honest.”

  “And you’re stalling. Don’t let the offer leave the table.”

  Emily went quiet for a long moment then huffed out a breath. “It’s not a big deal, alright. It’s just a stupid thing that happened.”

  “Then telling me about it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  She opened her eyes long enough to glare at me.

  “Right,” I said. “I’m quaking in my boots. Just spit it out, Cup—”

  She did another mime impersonation. This time, I rested my head in my palm and decided to wait her out. Maybe I didn’t know her as well as I wanted to, but one thing was becoming blindingly clear.

  I could tease, bargain, taunt, and command until I was blue in the face. It wouldn’t make a difference. Emily would do whatever she wanted in the end.

  Damn if that wasn’t more refreshing than ice-cold lemonade.

  “After the...divorce,” she started slowly, like she was trying each word on for size to see if it fit, “and the move, I had to start over. Going from designer clothes and private drivers to making do wasn’t the end of my world like it was for Mom. Then high school started.

  “I just wanted to keep my head down and stay out of trouble, but it’s impossible to be anonymous these days. Somebody caught wind of who my dad was, and, within a week, everything changed. I was the former rich girl that had been abandoned. They acted like my bad luck would rub off on them.”

  Emily swallowed thickly and I was careful to keep my breathing even, hiding the building rage.

  “I became an outcast,” she said on a humorless laugh. “It sucked, but again, the sky didn’t fall. I made new friends. I kept living my life before my stupid emotions got me in trouble. There was this guy...”

  My hand tightened on her hip. You know there have been other guys, I told myself. Calm the fuck down.

  Easier said than done.

  Emily laced her fingers with mine, squeezing, and I wasn’t sure she even noticed. But I did. In that small touch, the riot of emotions this dredged up inside of her flowed to me.

  Pain. Anger. Humiliation.

  Someone would pay for making her feel those things, and they would pay dearly.

  “Dylan Oliver told me all the right things,” she said softly. “I should’ve known not to trust a boy with two first names.”

  “He’s the—”

  “Don’t interrupt or I might change my mind.”

  My teeth clicked together as I forced my mouth closed. Girl had balls the size of fucking Texas. Satisfied I could keep my lips zipped, she continued.

  “He was popular, cute, and more than anything, willing to give me the time of day when almost no one else did. It was nice to not be stuck on the outside looking in. To have someone who looked for me between classes and took time out of their day to see how I was doing. By the time he invited me to a party I normally would’ve avoided on principle, I was crushing hard as fuck. Silly me.

  “We got there and everything was...great. It was how I’d imagined my high school life would be. Good times that were completely carefree mixed with just a bit of underage drinking because why not? Then Dylan took me upstairs.”

  I somehow managed not to interrupt, but there was a good chance I cracked my teeth from clenching my jaw so hard. If this went where I thought it was going, I was going to lose my complete fucking mind and I didn’t think anything on earth would be able to bring me back.

  “You can relax,” Emily whispered, squeezing my hand again. “That didn’t happen. He did kiss me, and he did want more. But when I wouldn’t let him, he finally showed his true colors—just how ugly and rotten he really was. I pushed past him out into the hall and the first thing I heard was, ‘Well, bro? How was she?’ followed by peals of laughter. Then he was behind me, laughing along with the rest of them.

  “I...lost it. I hit him at first, then I pushed him. And up until that point, I’d pretty much been exactly what they thought I was. A sheltered rich girl. So I didn’t expect him to push me back. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think either of us realized how close I was to the stairs before it was too late. Of course, I didn’t find the whole thing nearly as funny as his friends while I was in a ton of pain.”

  I blinked when the silence came again, stretching long enough that I might’ve thought she’d fallen asleep if not for the restless energy pouring from her frame.

  “That’s it?” I asked, turning her over so I could stare down at her. “Tell me that motherfucker got what was coming to him.”

  She bit down on her lip and shook her head. “He was the school’s golden boy, Ro. There wasn’t anything I could do. Other than my friends who came to get me and took me to the hospital, I’ve never told anyone about what happened.”

  This girl was going to give me a fucking aneurysm. “I’m hearing you wrong. You didn’t tell your mom?”

  Her thin smile said a lot. Then, “You’ve met her. You think she would’ve believed me? Or cared?”

  I shoved myself off the bed so I could pace beside it, anything to keep me from putting my fist through a wall or doing something else I might regret.

  “Look,” she said, “you’re making me anxious. Now you know the big secret so can we please drop this before—”

  “No,” I growled, glaring although I tried not to. My skin was too tight, condensed by an urge to wrap my hands around someone’s throat. I wasn’t positive if I wanted it to be Dylan fucking Oliver or my own.

  I’d made her walk. Across. Campus.

  In between bouts of cursing me, there’s no way that hadn’t brought up bad memories for her. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Do you have flour?”

  It was a strange enough request to make me pause. “Flour? Why?”

  “It’s a yes or no question, Ro. I suggest you say yes.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair, struggling to follow along. “Yeah, I mean, I’m pretty sure we do. Are you going to explain why that’s relevant?”

  “No.” She got off the bed. As pissed as I was, my mouth wat
ered at the sight of her naked curves as she went to my dresser. “But you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  25

  Emily

  “If this is your idea of a joke,” Ambrose muttered, scowling down at himself, “it’s not funny.”

  I snickered into the back of my hand while he continued to glare at the black apron he wore. There were already several white, powdery imprints across the surface from his first fight with the bags of flour. I’d never seen someone make a mess so quickly in the kitchen before. Witnessing the chink in the devil’s armor had been well worth the price of admission.

  It only cost me an embarrassing story that I wished would stay in the past where I’d left it.

  “You’re the one who was so sure you could pour the flour without help,” I reminded him, grinning as I whipped more batter. “If you didn’t know what the hell you were doing, you should’ve just said so.”

  He grunted, refusing to answer. Not that I needed one. The almost petulant tilt to his lips told me he was not happy about being caught off guard. Too bad, so sad.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I said. “It’s your fault I have a buttload of nervous energy to work through. And I’m not the go for a jog type of girl. Baking relaxes me.”

  “How the hell does all of this”—he waved a hand at the ingredients spread across the marble counter—”relax you? This place looks like a warzone.”

  “What warzones have you been to? I’m pretty sure they don’t usually involve frosting or strawberries.” I paused, then wagged my brows at him. “Unless you’ve been to some real freaky scenes I should know about.”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but he managed to narrow his eyes even more. They were going to get stuck like that at some point. I wouldn’t be the one to warn him. When it happened, the first thing I’d do was grab my phone and get a selfie. Maybe I’d frame it and hang it on a wall. Or print it out and plaster it across the school. The captions wrote themselves.

  Grumpy jerk gets what he deserves.

  Devil reveals his true face.

  Make sure to point and laugh.

  I giggled to myself as I pointed to the first set of cupcake tins. “Pass those this way, will you? Make yourself useful.”