Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance

by Kristen Proby

  Though he caught her meaning, he played dumb and kissed her breasts. “Here?” He teased the tip of one nipple. “Why would any man not want to suck and nibble on these very perfect pair of breasts?”

  She moaned, “Not there. Lower.”

  He kissed the underside of her breasts, satiny skin scented in vanilla and honey. She tasted divine. Making a wet trail with his tongue, he navigated his way down her stomach, over to her hip, where he scraped his teeth and made her squirm.

  Parted her delicate flesh with his thumbs, he blew lightly. She was swollen and pink. Wet. Hot. “This low enough?”

  “Please.”

  “Don’t ever beg me, Daisy,” he growled. “This isn’t a chore.”

  “Then do it.”

  “Do what?” He kissed a plump thigh. “Wash up the dishes?”

  “No.”

  Another kiss, and then a teasing tip of his tongue to her very swollen clitoris. “Help you bake a cake?”

  “Bastian, pl—now,” she said, her body flushing and knees shaking. “Lick me.”

  “Here?” He nibbled a path up her neglected thigh and tongued a letter S there. “What about here?” Another lick. Oh so close this time to where she was parted—pink and wet for him. “I need very specific directions, love.”

  “Between where your thumbs are,” she cried, her cheeks pinker than he’d ever seen as she watched him.

  Giving her a wicked grin, he licked her slowly, leisurely. Savoring the tangy sweetness as she shook and moaned. He used his lips, tongue, and teeth to pleasure her.

  “Bastian,” she whimpered. “I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

  “Put them on me, pull my hair … clutch at my shoulder.” Another lick and she moaned his name again. He loved that sound. He loved her. “Nothing is wrong between us.”

  He placed his tongue against her clit and massaged it, then worked a single finger inside of her. Her inner muscles tried to push him out, but he was a patient man and he waited for more of her arousal to coat his finger. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t help things along.

  He sucked her swollen clit into his mouth, and her hips jerked against him. This time when he pushed, his finger went deep and he groaned. Her thighs widened and her knees bent. He placed her legs on his shoulders.

  Glancing up, he watched her eyes widen. “What are you—?”

  “Trust me. You’ll like it this way,” he said. “Be as loud or as quiet as you want.” Then he lowered his mouth and started at the beginning.

  She screamed and tugged on his hair as she shook. “Oh God … I’m going to—”

  And she did, long and loudly. Music to his ears and his heart. He was pleasuring her, this woman he loved. He was giving her everything she needed, and she needed him.

  “Inside me,” she panted. “I need you inside me.” Grabbing a condom from the drawer of the nightstand, she practically threw it at him. He opened the foil and rolled it on.

  “You’re pierced there?”

  Peering at her, he grinned wickedly. “It appears so.”

  “I thought I felt something.”

  He grabbed the base of his erection and rubbed it against her. She fell back, her back arching and her thighs widening to accommodate him. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She tugged at his shoulder, urging him on. Slowly, he entered her, the blunt head of him stretching her. She made a little noise, her face contorting slightly. “You’re very big.”

  He kissed her nose. “And you’re very tight.” A quick roll of his hips and he was seated halfway inside. “Am I hurting you?”

  Eyes glazed with passion blinked up at him. “Feels too good.”

  “No such thing.” He withdrew a little and then thrust inside. Hard. She grabbed his shoulder and dug her nails into the skin. He hissed in pleasure. So much pleasure. So much everything.

  Nothing had ever felt so good, and he didn’t think it was only the physical aspect of it. No, he knew it was the emotional aspect. He was making love to Daisy.

  She whispered his name, sex words, and how much she loved what he was doing. But not him. She didn’t love him. She didn’t know him.

  It would have to suffice.

  Instead of dwelling on what she didn’t feel, he concentrated on what he could make her feel. He concentrated on her, on every sigh, every moan, and every flutter her lashes made. He rocked inside of her, rolling his hips … withdrawing and reentering with measured thrusts.

  “Do you like this?” he asked. “Or this?”

  “That.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh God. I love that.”

  He lowered his head to the pillow, just beside hers, and breathed her in, his body at her command. And it felt so damn good to do it. It felt so damn good to feel her sweat slick skin sliding against his, her pants against his shoulder and her hands on his body. She stroked his back, grabbed his shoulders, and wrapped her legs around his waist, high-heeled shoes scraping his ass.

  “I think I have to come again,” she said, bewilderment in her tone. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted his head for a moment, keeping his body moving exactly how she wanted. “Then come. I can wait.”

  The beginnings of a sweet smile began to grace her lips, then he slipped his hand between them and rubbed her where she was wet and swollen.

  Her mouth opened wide on a gasp. His name on her lips.

  That was all he needed, his orgasm taking over, making him lose control, not caring about tempo or thrust. Just the nearly mindless pumping of his hips that had him shouting her name.

  * * *

  Daisy came back down to Earth, like a feather floating on the breeze. She was boneless, sore, and satisfied. Unable to stop, she pressed kisses to her lover’s neck and jaw. He smiled against her skin and rolled off her.

  He hadn’t been kidding when he said he wanted to make love to her, to focus on her pleasure … her everything. She’d never felt so loved. It was a little strange, if she had to be honest, because she knew Glen had loved her and she’d loved him, yet sex had never felt like this.

  Sebastian did everything she liked, asked questions, and expected answers.

  And the way he’d looked at her, the way he touched her … if she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that he was sweet on her. Maybe even more than sweet … maybe—his fingers brushed hers, and she felt him curl his hand over hers.

  She smiled and closed her eyes, laying there beside him for what seemed like hours. It didn’t matter that he didn’t talk. Heck, she didn’t feel like talking.

  “Would you like to be held now or shall I dispose of the condom, first?” he asked, and she turned her attention to him, his lickable tattooed chest and hard abs slowly rising and falling, while he stared up at the ceiling.

  Pulling her hand away, she switched on the light beside the bed. “Uh.”

  “Or I can leave if you like.” He sounded like he was ready to leave. He sounded like he’d lied to her about the whole heart-stopping, panty-melting let-me-make-love-to-you speech.

  Oh God. The realization of what she’d done hit her, making her body actually ache. She’d just slept with a man she didn’t know, the day after she’d been dumped, and oh yeah, he was paying her to be with him.

  “Daisy?”

  “You can do whatever,” she said, trying to sound cool and calm while inside she raged and wanted to crawl into a hole for being so dumb. For being so unlike herself.

  He turned to look at her, his face unreadable. “I think I’ve said something wrong, but I’m not sure what.”

  “It wasn’t what you said; it was how you said it.” She blew out a breath. “Okay, so it was what you said, too.” She covered her eyes with a hand and waited for him to get up, but the bed didn’t move. She peeked through her fingers. He still lay there, sexy as anything, staring at her.

  “My confession: I suck at the what-to-do-after-sex part,” he said solemnly. “If you would explain your preferences, I’ll gladly put them in action.”

&nbs
p; Suddenly, all the doubt, all the anger, and all the self-loathing melted away, like a bowl of sorbet sitting in the summertime sun. “Well, it was nice when you held my hand.” Immediately, he grabbed her hand again, and she smiled. “I bet you want to use my bathroom.”

  With a nod, he let go of her hand and rose from the bed.

  Daisy had the pleasure of watching him walk across her apartment, his stride purposeful, the large tattoo of his last name on his back rippling as he stretched along the way.

  She sighed.

  A minute later, he walked back to her, his body lickable no matter which way he was facing. And dear God, was he built. Everywhere. The piercing didn’t hurt things at all. He paused at the foot of the bed. “Now what?”

  In answer, she held her arms open. He practically jumped on the bed and gathered her to him as he asked, “Like this?”

  “Perfect.” She kissed him and rested her head on his chest, tracing the outline of a star tattoo. “Why don’t you have one here?” She lightly touched the space over his heart.

  “Out of respect,” came his cryptic answer.

  “Do your tattoos mean anything?” There were stars, skulls, knives, and words written in languages she couldn’t read, beautiful but deadly looking.

  His pale eyes found hers. “They mean I survived.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sensing the need to change the subject, Daisy held up her hand and examined the ring Sebastian had given her. “This is very pretty.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Actually, I bought it with you in mind. The chocolate diamonds around the pink one in the center reminded me of bits of frosting.”

  “You did?” Astonished, she turned the ring this way and that way, examining it from every angle.

  “Yes,” he softly, almost as though he was confessing a big secret.

  “It’s perfect for me.”

  Kissing her cheek, he began lightly rubbing her shoulder. “May I take you to London tomorrow, to meet my friends and … others?”

  By others she knew he meant press and the ever-ominous Romanov Industries Board. “I’d love to, but I don’t have a passport.”

  “I’ll take care of that, and every other expense.” He exhaled. “I’ll need you to stay for a couple of weeks.

  Despite going to England being number one on her bucket list, and his offer of paying for everything, she hesitated. “I still have my business to run.”

  “Can you reschedule?”

  Honestly, she didn’t have any clients for the next three weeks. “March is a slow month for me,” she admitted.

  “Can you pack everything you need tomorrow, while I take care of your passport, and be ready by six PM? We’ll take off at seven.” He rolled her under him, and she was astonished to find him hard. “I know how we can spend the duration of the flight.”

  “I’m scared of flying,” she whispered, even as her body responded to the slow caresses he’d started giving it.

  His hand drifted lower, to between her thighs, and he slid a finger inside of her. She sucked in air. “I’ll take very good care of you,” he murmured, dipping his head to her chest. Using his teeth, he tugged on a nipple, and then swirled his tongue around it. “Say yes.”

  Another finger joined in, his thumb pressing on her clitoris and he sucked her nipple deep inside his hot mouth. “Yes.”

  * * *

  Daisy woke to Sebastian gently shaking her shoulder. “We’re starting our descent.”

  She blinked up at him, then yawned and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?” Instead of him taking very good care of her, she’d ended up taking a sleeping pill and crashed on his couch about thirty minutes into the flight. The last thing she remembered talking about was the Church of St. Clemmons.

  “Four-thirty AM your time. Nine-thirty mine,” he said with a rueful grin. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” The plane bounced, and then slowed as it taxied on the runway. Pressing her nose against the closest window, she took in the sight of Heathrow Airport. “It seems like I just got on the plane.”

  “While for me, it was endless torture of you humming in your sleep,” he said, and she turned to face him, giving him a come-on look.

  “Humming in my sleep?” she asked. “You’re so full of it.”

  “Don’t believe me, eh?” He unbuckled his seatbelt and joined her on the sofa. “I videoed you with my mobile.” His thumb glided over the screen of his cell.

  Her mouth fell open. There she lay, alternately mumbling and humming in her sleep. “That’s so wrong.”

  “Agreed,” he said, and she lightly punched him in the shoulder as he pocketed his cell. “Watch it. Very fragile equipment could be damaged.”

  “Oops.” Splaying her fingers, she admired her pretty ring. “Sorry, I’ll be more careful with your jewelry.”

  Taking her hand, he kissed the tip of each finger. “I meant these.”

  “Oh,” she breathed, so charmed by him that she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Come here, beautiful,” he said with a smile. She scrambled to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “You’re not worried about me messing up your suit?”

  “There’s enough starch in this to withstand even your pawing,” he said dryly, and then pressed a kiss onto the top of her head.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Better watch it. Or else.”

  A familiar, smug look came over him, one she called his I’m-the-earl-and-you-must-quiver-before-me look. Only she quivered for entirely different reasons. “Else what?”

  “No. More. Cupcakes. For. You.”

  “Cruel, Miss Barnes. Doing away with my daily cupcake ration is in violation of the Geneva Conventions.”

  She arched a brow. “Seriously?”

  “I am always serious, darling,” he said with a frown, but his eyes twinkled as he lifted her from his lap and stood. “Ah, the limo is here. Customs first, though.”

  “Oh. I have something to tell you,” she said. “Someone claiming to be your mother has been emailing me and wanting to know—”

  He grabbed her wrist, squeezing. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” Daisy stepped into him, tracing the pattern of his tie with the fingers of her free hand. His grip lessened, but the look on his face chilled her. “I blocked her as spam, but I thought you’d want to know.”

  “I’ll have your email account monitored.” He pulled his cell from his pocket.

  “No.”

  Thumb frozen over the screen, he blinked at her. “Sorry?”

  “Emails are private, unless you’d let me monitor yours,” she said, letting her arm fall and pulling her wrist out of his grasp. She grabbed her purse as the plane came to a stop.

  “Out of the question,” he snapped before nodding at the flight attendant to open the door to the plane.

  They descended the stairs, and with every step, Sebastian’s stance became more rigid. When he paused at the bottom to offer her his hand, she almost stumbled at what she saw. Face tight, eyes like glaciers, and a little sneer in his upper lip.

  “Are you okay?” she asked softly, then slipped her hand in his, or tried to. He directed her fingers to his elbow, like they were at a fancy party.

  He paused. “Look, in Holland Springs, I was more … relaxed than usual.”

  Her mouth dropped open slightly. He’d been relaxed? “Is that why you won’t hold my hand?”

  “We’re not in nursery school, darling,” he said as custom officers came to them, with their equipment and questions.

  Hurt rose inside of her, swift and deep. What did nursery school have to do with hand holding? And where had the man whose lap she’d sat in on the plane gone? The man who had said that Jules Westmoreland—wait a minute … How did he know Jules’s last name?

  Her diamond flashed along with the unmistakable click of cameras, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  Oh, yeah, the man she’d slept with was her fake fiancé. Emphasis on the word fake.r />
  He’d placed her hand directly in the line of sight for the paparazzi watching them. She couldn’t forget that. No matter how amazing the sex, how charming or sweet he could be to her, (and apparently only in private or back home), this relationship of theirs wouldn’t last.

  They didn’t speak again, until they were in the limo, and that was only to inform her where they would be going first—his house in Mayfair on Berkley Square. Then his phone rang, and for the next three minutes she listened with half an ear to his conversation, then directed her attention to what was outside her window.

  The limo practically flew past pastures, then streets, houses, and shops. A traffic snarl and his sudden silence had her fiddling with her engagement ring.

  “Daisy,” he began. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but—”

  She held up a hand, then lowered it and took a deep breath. “You can’t apologize then qualify it with a ‘but.’ It makes it meaningless.”

  “I rarely apologize.”

  Tilting her head to one side, she frowned. “Is that supposed to make me feel special?”

  His lips thinned before he went straight back to work on his phone. She sighed and lurched forward, then back against the leather seat when the limo took a left. She heard a sharp crack and part of her bun went all loose.

  “Dang it,” she said as she tried to fix her hair. Unfortunately, she came back with half a chopstick. The light green ones were her lucky pair. She pulled out the other one and tucked them in her purse. Guess they weren’t so lucky anymore.

  Sebastian cleared his throat, and she glanced up at him. He held his hand over his phone. “Sorry, but could you keep it down? I’m on a very important conference call.”

  Her phone vibrated in her coat pocket and she fished for it, snagging it with the tips of her fingers. Better to answer that than him, because she did not have very nice things to say.

  Isabella: Sunny in the tropics. :) How are things with S?

  Her frown gave way to a real smile. Isabella had added a picture of herself posing by the pool with a couple of hot lifeguards.

  Daisy: Fine. Making friends, I see. ;)

  Isabella: Yep, from yesterday. Ack! Why are you up?