Margot’s fall in the lake should be a sign for me. It’s the universe telling me that I need to stay away from Prince Luca. That he belongs to her. That I don’t deserve someone like him.
That I need to be by her side.
The Prince walks down to the cabins at the back of the boat with me, where there’s still commotion and people milling around.
When we get to the main cabin, Prince Beckett is pacing back and forth. He sees me, and immediately throws his arms around me.
“You saved her.” His voice is muffled into the towel around my shoulders.
I stiffen, not quite sure what to do. That’s two members of the royal family that have had their arms around me today.
When he pulls away, I notice Prince Luca’s eyes blazing at his brother. I clear my throat, and then duck into the cabin. Margot emerges from the shower with steam billowing around her. Her face is lined with worry, and she drags her feet with exhaustion.
When my sister sees me, her lower lip trembles. She sighs, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Ivy.”
“Don’t be.”
“I shouldn’t have done that. I was trying to get a photo, and then the boat lurched…” She cringes, shaking her head.
Margot walks up to me and wraps her long, graceful arms around me. I lean against her, sighing.
For a second, it feels like the old Margot. Before the crazy fame, before this PR relationship with Prince Luca, before Mama died. The haze in her eyes is gone, and she smells like she used to when we were kids.
“I was so stupid,” my sister says, sniffling. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“Someone else would have jumped in.” My voice is flat and emotionless. I feel drained.
She shakes her head. “They didn’t. This is why I need you around, Ivy. You’re the only person I can trust.”
I swallow back the bile that rises up in my throat. Trust? She can’t trust me. I’ve betrayed her in the worst possible way. I’ve kissed the man she’s supposed to be dating—twice.
Margot nods to the bathroom. “You should take a hot shower to warm up.”
I blink back tears and nod to her, slumping my shoulders and heading for the bathroom.
16
Luca
When Margot walks out of the cabin wearing fresh makeup and a dazzling smile, everyone on the yacht swarms around her. They coo as she smiles bashfully, hugging her white bathrobe to her chest and shaking her head in mock embarrassment. The actress somehow manages to make a terrycloth bathrobe look expensive and stylish.
Everybody in the room laps it up, eyes drawn to her like moths to a flame.
Everybody—except me.
I hang back, glancing over her shoulder to see if I can spot her sister. The cabin door behind her closes, and Margot walks out to the main salon area. A waitress hands her some water and a snack, which she accepts with a smile.
She drinks a sip of water, but she puts the cheese and crackers down on a table without touching them. Her face looks relaxed, almost slack, and her eyes are hooded.
An itching sensation crawls up my spine. I know that look on her face, and it makes me want to reach into my pocket, take a painkiller, and join her in numb bliss.
I pat my breast pocket, but before I slip out my pill bottle and swallow one down, I think of Ivy. I think of her smell, and her touch, and the way her lips feel when they’re pressed against mine.
I don’t want to numb that. I want to feel that fully and completely, with my mind clear and my body awake.
My eyes drift back to the cabin door, which remains closed. My chest tightens. It’s Ivy they should be swarming around, not her sister.
Ivy was the brave one. All Margot did was fall in.
Another actress sits beside Margot, pulling a phone out and angling it toward the both of them for a selfie. Margot poses and then laughs, lapping up the attention. Beckett sits near her, his eyes glued on her pretty, blonde head.
It disgusts me.
Where’s Ivy? We should be celebrating the woman who jumped in to save her sister, not the one who fell overboard for a few likes on social media. I stare at the closed door again, but Ivy stays behind it. I gulp as worry knots my stomach.
Grabbing a bottle of water and a sandwich, I start stalking back toward the room. I glance once more at the group as a strong, bitter taste coats my mouth.
This is the woman that I’m supposed to pretend to like? One that leaves Ivy behind right after she saved Margot’s life? One that takes a selfie and laughs with her friends while her sister suffers?
It’s repulsive.
I’m not perfect—I have my own issues with my family, especially Theo and Cara—but family always comes first. Always. I wouldn’t have come to Farcliff for this stupid trip if I didn’t care about my family. I wouldn’t have agreed to this publicity stunt. I wouldn’t tolerate Beckett’s insufferable moods around Margot if I didn’t care for my family.
I did it because Theo asked me to, and because it was good for the family.
I throw Margot one more hate-filled glance, only to see her staring back at me. She inclines her head ever so slightly. Her eyes soften, and a flash of pain passes across her face. She blinks as if to say, thank you.
Thank you for checking on Ivy, when I need to be out here to keep up appearances.
At least, that’s what I think her look says. It’s gone as quickly as it appears. Her face snaps back to normal, and she laughs at something my brother says. She titters as another man compliments her, batting her eyelashes and probably making his cock hard as rock. I frown as I walk back to the yacht’s main cabin. Maybe there’s more to Margot than I assumed. Maybe she does care about her sister, but she knows that she needs to be out here.
It’s her job.
Still, it makes my stomach churn. I’m glad no one follows me down the hallway. Knocking softly on the door, I lean my head against the frame.
“Poison?”
Pausing, I hear nothing.
I knock again.
Still no response.
“Ivy?”
A tiny, faint sniffle sounds through the thin wooden door, and I take that as my cue to enter. Ivy is crumpled on the bed, curled up in a tight ball as she cries into the pillow. Kicking the door closed, I drop the sandwich and water on the bedside table and scoop her into my arms.
Leaning back on the headboard, I cradle Ivy close to my chest. I rock her back and forth, stroking her hair. She stiffens momentarily. I lay a soft kiss into her black hair, and she sobs into my arms. Ivy melts into me, every part of her trembling.
My heart squeezes, and I wish I could take her pain away. Seeing her hurt makes my blood run hotter. It makes me itch, makes my body burn up—and not in a way that a pill can take away. I tighten my hold on her, caressing her cheek with my hand.
Sniffling, Ivy wipes her nose on her terrycloth bathrobe and pulls away. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. This is embarrassing. What are you doing here?”
“I was worried.”
“About what?”
“About you.” Stroking her cheek, I force her to look at me. Two different-colored eyes stare back at me, and the air is sucked out of my lungs. A tear streaks down her cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb.
I want to give her the world.
Ivy shakes her head and wipes her eyes again. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s just scary, you know? I could have lost her.”
Ivy leans against my chest, and I hold her close. It feels good to have her in my arms. It feels right. I don’t remember the last time I held a woman like this—or the last time I wasn’t itching to reach into my pocket for a joint, or a pill, or something to numb the pain.
Ivy’s fingers curl into my shirt and she lifts her head again.
“You’re wearing a shirt.”
“I can take it off, if you prefer.”
She laughs, showing off dimples on her perfect, soft cheeks. Shaking her head, she sighs. “You’re such a dog.�
� Her eyes lift back up to mine. “Shouldn’t you be out there with my sister?”
“She’s got plenty of people taking care of her.”
“But you’re supposed to be…you know…”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to be together.”
“Are we?”
“Isn’t that what your people and her people have been planning since the beginning of time?”
“My people don’t control me,” I answer. I stroke Ivy’s cheek, and the feeling of her skin against my hand makes my heart thump.
Ever since the second she yelled at me for eating her cinnamon buns, I’ve wanted to ravage her. I’ve wanted to taste her lips, her skin, her honey. More than just that—I’ve wanted to feel her body grinding against mine and plunge myself deep inside her.
I can’t wait any longer. I need her like I need air.
Cupping Ivy’s cheek, I watch as her breath hitches. Her eyes drop to my lips, and her fingers sink into my chest. My heart thunders, sending pulsing heat to every extremity. With her across my lap in nothing but a bathrobe, it’s becoming hard to contain myself.
“Poison,” I say softly, stroking her lip with my thumb.
She closes her eyes. “Yeah?”
I drag my thumb across her lips, and they part ever so slightly. Caressing her full, red pout with my finger, I watch as her tongue slides out. It swirls around the tip of my thumb and I release a breath.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I growl.
Her eyes open again, and another jolt of electricity courses through me. She wraps her lips around my thumb and kisses it gently. The pulse in her neck goes thump, thump, thump.
When she pulls her lips away from my thumb, I miss them. Her eyebrows twitch together, and she tilts her head, studying me.
“Why are you here?” she asks again.
Instead of answering, I put my free hand on her knee. Her soft, silky skin feels incredible. I inch my fingers up under her bathrobe and watch as Ivy’s eyes widen. Her breath is shallow as she leans into me, curling her fingers into my shirt.
When I touch my lips to Ivy’s, she lets out the softest, sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. Her kiss is hesitant, uncertain—and nothing at all like she usually is. I swipe my tongue across her lower lip, groaning as I taste her once again. I kiss her slowly, meticulously, not wanting to miss a single detail of her perfect mouth. I want to sear her taste into my memory and imprint myself upon hers.
Ivy trembles, parting those soft, red lips for me so I can deepen our kiss. I slide my hand up her thigh as my heart races in my chest. She whimpers, leaning into me as my other hand tangles into her black locks. Pulling her closer, I groan as she finally starts to kiss me back with the intensity that I want.
The intensity that I need.
My fingers sink into her thigh as my cock hardens in my pants. She shifts her weight, grinding against it ever so slightly as she scrapes her teeth across my lower lip. I growl. Her tongue swipes over mine, and my cock throbs against her. Another soft moan slips through her lips, and I swallow it whole.
Nipping at her bottom lip, I kiss her harder. I want more. I want it all. My hand slides farther up her thigh as she hooks her arm around my neck. Her moans are driving me wild. Sitting across me sideways, she grinds her hips against my hardened cock and the movement is almost too much to bear.
But when I slide my hand higher—high enough to know that she’s not wearing panties—Ivy pulls back. Her chest heaves as she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.
She sucks in a trembling breath and shakes her head. “We should stop.”
“Why?”
Frowning, she turns her head to look at me. “Well, for one, you’re promised to my sister.”
“I’m not promised to anyone.” I catch her hand in mine, laying a soft kiss on the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist. Ivy closes her eyes for a moment as a trembling breath slips through her lips. Her ass grinds against me, and I throb.
“Please, Your Highness…”
“Luca.”
Ivy’s eyes open, both colors shining bright as she stares at me.
I nod. “I want you to call me Luca.”
“Luca,” she whispers.
Ivy sucks her lush bottom lip between her teeth, and my cock strains against my pants. Does she know how sweet and innocent and completely fuckable she looks right now?
Slowly, softly, I run my thumb over her thighs. I close my eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like to lay her down and spread those thighs apart. How she would taste. How she would moan. How she would come.
Ivy leans against my chest, swinging her legs over onto the bed so she’s laying on top of me. Her back is against my chest, her ass still pressed firmly into my crotch.
Every tiny movement she makes sends electric sparks coursing through my veins.
The air is heavy between us. The yacht sways gently from side to side, and I wrap my arms around Ivy’s body. Her head nestles in beside my neck, her body molding perfectly against mine.
“Your Highness…” she whispers, closing her eyes for a moment. “Luca.”
“Tell me, Poison.” I pull her closer as my heart thumps. Leaning back against the headboard with Ivy on top of me is the best place I could ever be.
17
Ivy
I feel dizzy.
I thought I’d kissed guys before. I thought I knew what it was like to feel turned on.
I was wrong.
The Prince’s touch is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. His hands are warm, strong, and they send and electric current jumping through my veins. My breath hitches, and I run my fingers up his forearms. Prince Luca’s skin is an art canvas, and I focus on the tattooed designs to try to calm my racing mind.
With his arms wrapped around my waist, I lean my back against his chest and let out a sigh.
Am I doing this right now? Am I going to let the Prince be my first?
I can’t. I’m not ready.
Yet, when Prince Luca’s fingers slide down to my thighs, all I want to do is spread them for him. His whole body is cradling mine.
My mind screams at me: Stop! He’s supposed to be dating your sister.
My body doesn’t listen. Still leaning against his chest, I reach down to the terrycloth bathrobe ties. Slowly, shyly, I pull them apart.
The Prince’s heart thumps against my back. His hardness digs into my ass, and I grind myself into him almost involuntarily.
When I pull the lapels of the bathrobe open, letting it fall to the side, the Prince lets out a groan.
“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes, sliding his hands over my stomach. The tips of his fingers sweep up to touch the crease between my breasts and my ribcage, and heat sparks between my thighs.
The Prince’s touch is gentle, yet strong. His fingers sweep over my breast, teasing my pebbled nipples as he exhales deeply. When he tweaks my nipples between his fingers, a zing of heat flashes through my body.
A rumble passes through his chest and I melt against him, wanting nothing more than to feel his hands on my body.
It’s screaming for him. Every nerve ending in my body cries out for his hands, his mouth, his cock. I’ve never felt anything like this before.
The ache.
The need.
The lust.
I gasp when the Prince pinches my hard nipples between his fingers. Palming my breasts, he wraps his strong arms around my body as I lay splayed out on top of him. Every movement his hands make sends me into another tailspin of desire.
When his palms slide over my stomach, I lean my head into his neck and release a slow breath. The tips of his fingers tease the edges of my lips down below, moving to the inside of my thighs. He sweeps his hands up, brushing the wetness gathering between my legs.
Gently.
Softly.
Torturously.
I moan, lifting my arm to wrap it behind his head and burying my face in his neck. Luca lets out a chuckle, p
ulling my thighs apart with his hands. I comply, spreading myself for him.
The tips of his fingers tease my slit again, and heat roars through my stomach. I can feel the pulse thundering in my center, and I do my best to find the words I want to say.
Yes, I want you. Be my first. Make me yours.
I gulp. Is that what I want? It feels deliciously wrong to think those thoughts, and my body screams at me to speak them out loud.
I can’t. This isn’t right. I should go.
The words stick to my throat, and all I can do is melt into the Prince’s body. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wide, and my body grinds against his.
I never thought I’d be turned on by the feeling of a man’s erection against me. I’ve felt them before, in nightclubs, when men drunkenly rubbed up against me. It’s always felt disgusting and wrong.
Not now.
Now, the feeling of the Prince’s length against me is making my head spin. There’s a deep, aching neediness inside me. An emptiness I’ve never felt before.
I dig my fingers into the nape of his neck as he moves his hands up to brush my slit.
“Your Highness…”
“Luca,” he corrects. His voice is gruff. Commanding.
“Luca,” I sigh. “I’ve never… I’m…”
The words stick in my throat. His hands are so warm, so strong. He moves his palm between my legs, rubbing the heel of his hand over my bud as his fingers slide between my legs. I gasp, trembling against him.
“You’re what?” he asks, sliding his hand back and forth. The tips of his fingers slide back toward my ass, and another shiver rocks through my body. The friction of his palm against my clit makes my head spin.
I bite my lip, wanting to scream. The Prince moves one hand up to my breast, cupping it and teasing my nipple as his other hand slides between my legs.
I’m shaking. Sparks fly in the space between my legs, and the air in the cabin is charged with so much electricity, it feels like every hair on my body is standing on end.
“I’m a virgin,” I whisper.
He stops. My cheeks burn. His hand stays still between my legs. I’m too nervous to move, even though all I want to do is grind myself against his hand.
Royally Unexpected 2: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection (Surprise Baby Stories) Page 10
