by M. S. Parker
After a quick look over my shoulder to where Isaak and the cop continued to speak, I looked back at her. What could she do but say no? “Would you consider a kiss a proper thank you?”
My heart hitched, then fell into overtime as she moved closer, laying a hand on my cheek.
“Seems to me you played the knight in shining armor. Didn’t the maiden fair usually repay the knight with a token…or a kiss?”
For a moment, too brief a moment, her lips brushed mine. She drew back the slightest, still staring into my eyes. “Thanks again.”
“Wait.” Reaching out, I caught her hand, loosely twining her fingers with mine.
She went still, her big gray eyes dark and fathomless.
“Perhaps I could use some help with directions,” I said, refusing to think about what I was doing. In weeks, I’d be announcing my marriage to Franziska. I’d be trapped then. Not just in a loveless marriage, but to a woman I didn’t really even like, much less care for.
I wanted one last thing for myself.
Surely that wasn’t asking for too much.
She cocked her head. “Oh?”
“Perhaps you could help me find my hotel?”
She licked her lips.
Her fingers tightened on mine slightly, then she moved in a bit closer. “Think you’ve forgotten how to find it?”
“I don’t know…it’s very easy to get turned around in this city.”
“I can see that.” She stood so close, I could feel the warmth of her breath on my chin.
Ducking my head, I stared into her eyes. “Perhaps you can give me a hand? If you’re not in any hurry, you could have a drink with me?”
“I…” She touched her tongue to her upper lip.
I bit back a groan, the need to close the distance between us so strong, I almost gave in.
Her blush deepened as she realized I was staring at her mouth, and she drew in a sharp breath of air. “I…ah…I’m not much for drinking these days. But…I’m not in any hurry. I can show you to your hotel. A cup of decaf coffee would be nice too. It’s very cold out.”
Isaak gave me a sharp look when we passed him, but I ignored him.
He’d give me an earful later, but I’d deal with that when the time came.
For now, I was going to enjoy this, a few stolen moments with my Venus.
Her name was Regan.
She’d told me a bit more about being an actress, and mentioned she was between jobs but offered several recommendations for current shows on Broadway, as well as current gossip.
I pretended interest, but that was all I could muster.
What did I care if one of the more anticipated shows of the new season had ended up closing before it even opened when my mind was focused on that fleeting taste I’d gotten when she kissed me?
“We’re here…West 44th.” Regan slowed next to me, brushing her hair back from her face before looking up and down the street. “Which way?”
I gestured left. “There.”
Her eyes tripped over the rich red awnings and the red flag that swayed in the night breeze for a moment before returning. After a few seconds, she looked back at me and asked slowly, “You’re staying at the Chatwal?”
“Yes.” Uneasiness edged in. “Is it a problem?”
“Nuh…no,” she said, smile settling in place. She gave her clothes a quick look and continued with a laugh. “I’m just a little underdressed.”
“You’re lovely,” I said without thinking. The wind blew her hair into her face, and I reached up to brush it back.
As I did so, I was painfully aware of Isaak striding past us.
Jerking out of my daze, I tugged her along with me. “Come, let’s get you that drink. Coffee, you said? That just might hit the spot with this cold.” As we walked, I pulled my phone out. “Pardon me…I have to check in on something.”
“No problem.” A winsome smile curled her lips. “I usually can’t go ten minutes without seeing a guy check his phone. It’s been almost twenty.”
I laughed. I would have gone all evening, but I needed to have Isaak deal with something for me.
Texting him quickly, I told him I didn’t want any of the staff giving away any hints of my identity to Regan. It wasn’t often I could shed the cloak of being a prince, and now that I bore the title of Hereditary Prince, it would be next to impossible. I wanted a night where I could just be Bastian.
His response came up almost immediately, followed by a tersely worded warning to be careful.
I ignored it and shoved the phone back into my pocket.
A few hours, I told myself. It wasn’t much to ask.
It was almost midnight.
Few patrons remained in the bar.
We’d gone through an entire pot of coffee. It was a good thing it was decaffeinated because my blood was already rushing hot and fast through my veins.
“It looks like they’re going to be closing soon.” Regan glanced around.
None of the lights were down, and the staff looked to be doing their regular jobs, but the overall emptiness around us was hard to ignore. I could have told her that the staff would stay until I left, but then I’d have to explain why.
It would sound arrogant too. Americans didn’t have much tolerance for the trappings of royalty, although I knew Isaak would have already spoken with the staff and passed out a number of bills to all the people on hand to compensate them for the inconvenience.
Still, I didn’t want to come across as rude to the woman in front of me.
Summoning up a smile, I said, “I suppose we should get out of their way.” Rising, I offered her a hand. “I’ll call a car for you.”
“That’s not necessary,” she objected as she placed her hand in mine and let me draw her to her feet.
She ended up much closer than either of us intended, but she didn’t back away.
Neither did I.
“I insist.” Searching her lovely gray eyes, I found myself at a loss for words.
She swayed closer.
Giving into the reckless urge that had been riding me all night, I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers.
“Bastian,” she said on a ragged sigh.
I took advantage and deepened the kiss, pushing inside her open mouth, groaning at the spicy, sweet taste of her. She tasted like the coffee, like the after-dinner mint she popped into her mouth a few minutes ago. She tasted like woman and sweetness and everything I’d been missing in my life.
Reaching up, I curved my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. She whimpered low in her throat and reached up, curling her hands in the front of my shirt. With my free hand, I caught her hip and pulled her to me.
Her body fit mine perfectly, and she moaned weakly as her belly cuddled against the hard ridge of my cock.
I dragged my head back, staring down at her as blood roared in my ears. “We should stop,” I told her. “Unless you’d rather me make that call for a car in the morning.”
Her eyes widened.
I braced myself for her to pull back.
“Yes. I…I think that’s a good plan.”
It took a few seconds for her meaning to sink in, but once it did, I caught her hand. “Come,” I said, the word hardly more than a growl. I had no desire to give her a chance to change her mind.
My phone buzzed insistently as the elevator doors closed behind us.
I ignored it.
It happened again, and again.
Swearing, I dragged my mouth from Regan’s and jerked the phone out, reading Isaak’s short, perfunctory statement with a lust-hazed brain.
I’m having Jakob perform a check on the room. Slow your lust-addled brain a bit, Your Highness. I’ll be in the adjoining suite.
I wanted to swear, to hurl the phone down. But I didn’t. Instead, I shoved it into my pocket and pulled Regan up against me. “Come here,” I said, sliding an arm around her and tugging her close until just our clothes separated us. The coats were an unwelcome barrier, but I ig
nored them as I reached out and jabbed the stop button on the car.
“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing up at me.
“Showing my impatience,” I said, sliding a hand under the hem of her flowing silver shirt, upward until I could cup her breast. She gasped, then arched, pushing herself deeper into my hand. She was full and soft, the weight of her tit heavy and warm. I loved it. “Perfect…”
Pressing my mouth to her neck, I kissed a line down until the vee of her blouse stopped me.
A gentle chiming had me looking up, and I saw the numbers flashing above the elevator door. “Impatient,” I muttered.
“The elevator?” she teased, breathless. “Or you?”
“Both.” Greedy for more of her, I waited a few seconds and punched the stop button once more, watching as she laughed, then smiling as her laugh faded away, replaced by a groan as I slid my hand inside the vee-neck of her shirt, brushing my fingers over her nipple.
This time, when the chiming started, I pulled back and nudged her away.
“You’re dangerous,” I said, shaking my head.
She laughed, a little self-consciously, as the elevator glided the rest of the way to the penthouse level.
“One of the best hotels in the city,” Regan murmured. “And the penthouse level. What sort of business are you involved in? The buying and selling of small countries?”
Choking on a laugh, I said, “Well, it does involve small countries. Come on…I don’t want to waste time talking about work when I’ve got you with me.”
As I led her out of the elevator, I caught sight of Jakob, his fiery red hair in disarray as he slid into the suite across from mine.
My breath came a little easier as I led Regan down the hall. Her fingers tightened on mine as I unlocked the door and we stepped inside. She looked around, a shaky breath coming from her. “Wow. This is…beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” I said, taking her coat and tossing it, along with mine, on the nearest flat surface. “This is just a room.”
“Just a room?” She gazed around in wonder. “That’s like calling a redwood just a tree.”
I’d seen the redwoods in California so I could appreciate the comment.
But still…I wasn’t interested in the nicely appointed décor. “Come here,” I said, pulling her deeper into the room. Sweeping her close, I started to move in a slow, graceful pattern.
She laughed. “There’s no music.”
“There’s always music if you listen.”
“You’ve got a poet’s soul, don’t you, Bastian?” she said, gazing up at me. She moved with ease, clearly unbothered that we danced in a quiet room.
“Perhaps. I think you bring it out of me, Venus.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Venus?”
“You make me think of Botticelli’s Venus…a Renaissance artist,” I told her.
She rolled her eyes, even as a flush settled on her cheeks. “I know who Botticelli is. Venus…that’s the one where she’s rising up out of the ocean.”
“Yes. You look like some artist’s muse, all soft skin and curves…” I slid my hand up her back to tangle in her hair. “This hair.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Wow. You really do have a poet’s soul.”
“Maybe you’re my muse.” Tugging her close, keeping my grip on her hair, I pressed my mouth to hers. “I want your mouth, Venus.”
She gasped as I flicked my tongue against her lips, parting for me and giving me entrance to the sweet, soft cavern. As I took what she offered, I boosted her up in my arms, still swaying to the music in my head as I moved around the room.
Regan whimpered and arched against me. Her pants, some soft, velvety material, were little barrier, and I felt the heat between her thighs as she rubbed against me.
Cupping her ass in my hands, I dragged her up and down.
She tore her mouth from mine, her head falling back. “Yes,” she whispered. “Bastian…that’s…that’s perfect.”
“Not yet.” The large table, centered in front of the windows that looked out over the New York City skyline, beckoned and I moved to it, laying her down on it and rising so I could take in the beauty of her.
“I want to see you naked.”
She licked her lips, then nodded awkwardly, reaching for the hem of her silver top.
“No. Let me.” I started with her ankle boots, unzipping one, then the other before tugging them off and setting them on the banquet table behind me. Her velvety pants came next, followed by the thick socks that went up to her knees, black against the paleness of her skin. I slid my hands up the outside of her legs, reveling in the softness. Sleek muscle and soft curves. I caught her calves in my hands and moved up to the backs of her knees, nudging her thighs wider apart.
Black, lacy panties covered her core, and I traced a finger over the pattern but didn’t linger, even when she pleaded and lifted to meet me. “Please,” she whimpered.
“Not yet.”
I pulled her upright and eased the slippery, shiny material of her blouse off, leaving her clad in just her bra and panties. More black lace, the pattern echoing what I’d seen in the sexy underwear. I caught her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table, lifted her hands to my shirt and leaving them there to see what she’d do.
She smiled and reached for the hem of my sweater, pushing it up. She followed the pattern I’d set, keeping each movement slow and easy. Once the sweater cleared my head, I dunked down and let her pull it away. She took a cue from me, folding the sweater and passing it over to me so I could put it on the banquet.
She trailed her hands down my chest, and the muscles in my stomach jumped as she tugged my undershirt free from my trousers. My cock pulsed insistently, and I clenched my teeth against the urge to grab her hand and mold it against me. I wanted to tear the rest of my clothes away, fall on her and push inside, fuck her until we were both sweaty and exhausted.
But a quick, rough ride to the end, even as appealing as it sounded, wouldn’t be enough. I wanted to gorge on her, fill myself on her taste and learn the feel of her skin, commit it to memory, commit everything about her to memory.
So instead of pushing her hands away so I could tear at my clothes, I grabbed the edge of the table, the tips of my fingers digging in so hard, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the wood had crumpled under my grip. She dropped the shirt and pressed her hands to my chest.
I’d been with so many women. I’d become jaded to things in the sexual arena. Her light touch…I couldn’t describe what it did to me. She slid her hands down, dragging a groan from me. She hesitated, then gave me a smile that was both shy and coy, moving her hands farther down my chest, not stopping until she reached the waistband of my trousers. Giving me another one of those shy, inscrutable looks, she went to work on my belt, then the button and zipper of my trousers.
Her eyes came up then and met mine. She licked her lips as she traced her fingertips along the waistband of my boxers, then dipped inside. My breath hitched in my chest almost painfully this time as she wrapped her hand around me, then pumped my cock up, then down, three, slow almost torturous strokes.
“Enough of that,” I said, catching her wrist and tugging.
Her brow wrinkled.
Belatedly, I realized I’d spoken in German. “Enough. You’re going to drive me crazy.” I dropped a kiss on her lips. “I need to go grab something.”
I could feel her mouth curving against my own. “Something, hmm?” She gripped my biceps, arching into me. “Make it fast.”
I did, crossing into the bathroom connected to my suite and returning in probably less than a minute, just to come to a complete stop at the entry to the main room. Scowling, I looked her over. “You got dressed.”
“I did not.” Sheepishly, she looked down at the shirt she’d pulled on—my shirt. “I get cold easy.”
Moving at a slower pace, I crossed over to her. “Well, it looks stunning on you.”
“Stunning.” She mimicked my accent and inflection wi
th near perfection, almost nailing it.
I blinked.
She winked at me and laughed. “Actresses who can pick up on accents and the like are more in demand than those who can’t.”
“Interesting.” Tossing the condom on the table next to her, I said, “Now talk to me in Regan’s voice. I’ve decided it’s high on my list of favorites.”
“Is it?” She looked at me from under her lashes, her smile going sweet and female.
“Yes.” I whispered it against her lips before tracing my tongue across her mouth, already starving for more of her taste. Boosting her up on the table, I grabbed the hem of the shirt and peeled it off, tossing it to the floor with far less care than she’d demonstrated earlier.
She shivered as I slid my hands up her sides, arching to shove her breasts into my hands. I teased her nipples, my blood burning hot and thick in my veins as she whimpered. Swallowing the sound down, I grabbed the condom and tore it open.
Her patience must have been as thin as mine because she reached for the pants riding low on my hips and shoved, working them as low as she could until I nudged her hands out of the way.
“Let me.” I finished the job, then went to deal with the rubber, putting it in place with reckless urgency as she leaned back on her hands, her breath coming harder, faster, eyes dark and wide as she watched me.
The feel of her eyes on me as I completed the task was erotic, and I was tempted to draw it out, but the twisting ache in my balls wouldn’t let me. Finishing, I leaned forward, urging her to lean farther back.
She did, eyes rapt on my face now.
I slid a hand up her thigh, brushed my fingers over her curls.
She whimpered and lifted her hips.
I didn’t need anything else.
Dipping lower, I sought out the wet heat and shuddered as I found her cunt dewy wet, slippery soft and so fucking hot. She sank backward, going flat to her back, the flush on her cheeks spreading down to color her neck and breasts.
Fuck…
I withdrew my hand and grasped my cock. “I want to be inside you.”
I had other words, better words, more practiced ones…but my grasp of English was failing me, and all I could think was fuck and inside and please.
