A fingertip teased her nipple through the lace cup of her bra and her spine arched too, lifting up, pushing her breast into his touch. Her hips rocked back and forth as her heart pumped sizzling blood through her body.
Would he finally take her? After all this time? He had to! He couldn’t stop now.
She slid her hands under his shirt. His skin was so smooth, warm velvet over perfectly sculpted stone. Her fingertip grazed a hard little nipple, and she sucked in a gasp of pleasure at the discovery.
She caught the bottom of his shirt and pushed it up, revealing the glorious landscape she’d just explored with her hands. His chest was absolutely perfect. Tight. Hard. Muscular. And hers to touch and taste and enjoy. Today. Just this once.
She would draw out every precious minute.
His control snapped, like an over-tightened wire. He’d tried so hard. So fucking hard. Tried. And lost.
His dick was a steel lance, trying to slice its way out of his pants. His blood was like liquid fire.
Once again, Jenna had surprised him, this time by taking control. And he was a bastard for not stopping her. The worst kind of bastard. The selfish kind who would take advantage of an innocent woman’s attraction to feed his lust.
He wanted her. Just once. He wanted to see every inch of her. To taste her. To hear her scream his name as he brought her to the brink of insanity.
He literally ripped her shirt, right down the middle, exposing a sumptuous landscape of ivory flesh. Her bra was lace, her little hard nipples pink little flowers waiting for his mouth. He flicked his tongue over one, through the lace, and she quivered beneath him.
His dick grew another six inches, or so it felt.
He shouldn’t fuck her. Despite what his cock wanted. It wanted to be buried in her warm, wet channel. It wanted to mark her as his own, to leave a brand letting any bastard who came near her know that she belonged to him, only him.
But he wouldn’t. No. If he was going to be the selfish bastard, he was going to do it right. He’d make her come. He’d give her all the pleasure she could stand. But he would take none in return, outside of what he got from watching her.
Her trembling hands smoothed up his stomach, and he caught her wrists, pinning them on the carpet, above her head. One touch, just one, and he would take her. He would drive his dick inside and push it deep, to her core. And he’d spill his seed there.
And then… they would both be fucked.
No, she couldn’t touch him.
She whimpered, a pretty, sweetly seductive protest that had him second-guessing his plan. But he quickly reminded himself why he was resisting. This was for her. For Jenna. To spare her the heartbreak of giving herself fully to a man who couldn’t keep her. No man should do that. In fact, a wild, feral urge to murder any man who would even think to fuck her and then dump her blazed through him. His Jenna deserved better. She deserved to be loved and cherished. Kept forever. Safe. Worshipped.
That was what he would do. This once. Only once.
Gathering her wrists into one hand, he used his other to push her bra cup down, freeing a breast. His mouth watered at the sight of her little nipple. So rosy and hard, all for him. He lapped and suckled, drawing in the intoxicating scent and flavor of her skin. She was as sweet as he’d imagined. Sweeter. Pure. Clean. Fresh. And addictive.
He did the same with her other breast, enjoying the little mewls of pleasure she gave off, the writhing of her lush little body as she ground her pussy against his hip.
He traveled down her body, lips, tongue, teeth exploring inch after inch of delicious, perfect flesh. When he reached the waistband of her pants, her stomach muscles quivered and clenched, rocking her hips up in an invitation to take what lay beneath.
Burning from head to toe, he wasted no time stripping off her pants and panties. She was smooth down there. Smooth, wet, warm. Tempting. He didn’t have to open her legs to get a look at her delicate folds, she opened to him eagerly, the flesh parting like the petals of a flower. And she smelled just as sweet, he realized as he bent down. Using his fingers, he exposed her hard little pearl.
She moaned. It was a glorious sound, one he would never tire of.
Nor would he tire of her flavor. Succulent and delicious, like the fruit of a rare tropical tree. He flicked his tongue over her click several times then opened her channel and plunged it deep, lapping at the honey. He could eat her forever, if not for the raging fury burning in his dick and balls. Damn, he wanted her. Worse now that ever.
“Rafe,” she murmured, her hips rocking back and forth as he ate her out. “Ohmygod!”
She was close. He could tell. He could feel her passion building. He could taste it. He could smell it. Now he needed her, needed like he needed air, to come.
He replaced his tongue with two fingers, pistoning them in and out while he suckled her clit. Her back arched, and she screamed, her slick walls quivering around his fingers.
If only that was his cock in there now, being milked. She was so incredibly tight. Perfect in every way.
If only she could be his.
If only.
Now that he’d seen her, tasted her, heard her screams, he wasn’t content. Once was not good enough. Once a day was not good enough. Hell, once an hour was not good enough.
He needed to leave. Now. This minute.
“We have a slight problem.”
Jenna saw no problem.
Rafe was nearly naked.
So was she.
Ah ha! Maybe that was the problem. They were still wearing too many clothes. Especially Rafe. She’d just had the most incredible orgasm of her life. But Rafe, he was still wearing pants. She was ready to return the favor.
And she would have… if she’d thought for more than one second that was the problem he was talking about.
Instead of yanking down Rafe’s pants, as she would have liked, she rolled onto her back.
Instantly she regretted it. Without Rafe’s body heat the floor was kind of cold. “What’s wrong?” she asked, even though she didn’t want to know because she had a sneaking suspicion their time was over. Reality was about to set in. Or rather, Hulk smash into her life.
“We’ve been ditched.” His voice was tight, as if he were holding his breath.
She, on the other hand, wasn’t heartbroken. Crisis averted! They were alone. In a beautiful castle.
What a tragedy! Not.
“Do you have an important meeting later?” she asked, hoping she might be able to help him see the bright side of their situation.
“No, but—“
She rolled over and flung an arm across his burly chest. “Good.”
“No, this isn’t good.” Gently, he lifted her arm.
Oh no! So much for convincing him it was a good thing they were stuck out here in the mountains alone. Dammit!
“There’s a storm coming. A big storm,” he explained. “If I call for a car now, it won’t get here in time. Nichole planned this. The little sneak.”
Nichole. Jenna vowed to give her a huge hug when she saw her next, whenever that would be. She was a freaking genius. A sneaky, conniving, lovable crazy woman.
Jenna wasn’t exactly alarmed about the storm. In fact, she was downright giddy. But she didn’t let Rafe see that. “We have everything we need for a day or two, don’t we?”
“Sure. But up here it can take a week to clear the roads after a storm.”
A week? She glanced around the massive room. Fireplace with lots of wood to keep warm? Check. A well-stocked kitchen? Check. And lots of bedrooms in which to… cuddle. Check, check, check! Again, she saw no reason for panic. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. But you…”
“I have a lot of work to do.” He stood, finger poking at his phone screen. “I can’t be marooned up here for a whole week.”
The anger in his voice chilling her glee, Jenna scrambled to her feet, catching her discarded clothing on the way up and crushing it against her breasts.
So much for extendin
g this fling from a one-nighter to a one-weeker. Damn.
She supposed she should be happy for what she’d had, not disappointed or frustrated about what she couldn’t have. After all, Rafe was a prince. He had responsibilities. Lots of them, from the way he was jabbering on his phone. He couldn’t take time off to just hang out in front of a cozy fire and have sex for days on end. She had to respect that.
Okay, maybe it was a smidge bad, what Nichole had done. Ditching them up here in the mountains with no way to get down. It was sneaky. And unfair to Rafe.
She slunk away, dressing in one of the bedrooms. When she returned to the great room, he was still talking on his phone. Every word was clipped, his tone sharp.
He was pissed.
Maybe not directly at her, but… now was a perfect time for a walk.
She returned to the mudroom, stomped into the boots she’d worn on the trip up, shrugged into the ski jacket, and bundled herself in a hat, gloves and scarf.
Outside fat flakes were falling from thick, heavy, very angry-looking clouds.
This was going to be a big storm. She could tell. If Rafe wasn’t so upset, she would have been glad for the storm’s timing—and Nichole’s expert planning.
But no, she couldn’t be. Not with him so upset.
She crunched around the side of the massive house, toward a small copse of trees. There the snow was pristine, unmarked, except for the animal footprints. She stared down at a set and tried to guess what type of animal made them.
Someone cleared his throat and she turned toward the sound.
Rafe gave her a guilty half-smile. “I apologize if I’ve made you feel unwelcome.”
She wanted to deny his claim, but he had made her feel uncomfortable. Not that he didn’t have a good reason for being upset. “You have important work to get back to. I get it.”
“There’s a great deal at stake.”
“What will you do?” she asked.
“I have my phone.” He displayed said phone. “And a backup charger. I’ll make it work. Somehow.”
A little of the tension in her body eased. “So all isn’t lost?”
“Not yet.” He reached for her hand, and she accepted it.
If only they weren’t wearing gloves. The heavy padding and material was a thick barrier between them.
Much like everything acting as a barrier between them in a less literal way.
He steered her back around, toward the house.
“Do you ever wish you weren’t a prince?” The question popped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“Sure. When I was younger,” he confessed, smiling at her, a reassurance she had no reason to feel guilty for the question. “But not for many years. Since then I’ve learned there’s no sense wishing for the impossible. My life is what it is. My parents are who they are. There’s no changing that.”
Now this was great! He was talking about real issues. Opening up. It had to continue. She wanted to know everything about him. Absolutely everything. More than that, she wanted to be that one person he could trust. The one person he could tell his secrets to, his fears, his wishes. “But what if there was? What if you could walk away from it all? Would you?”
He didn’t answer right away. He stared out, at the mountain, or sky, or something in the distance. “I don’t think so.”
“Then you’re happy?” she asked his profile.
“Happy?” He pursed his kissable lips. “I don’t know.”
Huh? He didn’t know if he was happy? He didn’t know?
He was a freaking prince.
He lived in a castle. And had a private island.
He had women throwing themselves at him.
He had more money than she would probably earn in her entire life.
And he could probably do anything or go anywhere he wanted.
She couldn’t imagine having that kind of freedom. To have so many choices in life.
How could he not be happy? Didn’t he realize what he had?
He visibly exhaled, turning his gaze to her. “You don’t understand.”
“It’s hard to,” she admitted. “It’s like… we live in different worlds.”
“I suppose it is.” He started walking, not toward the house, but away from it.
“Tell me, what’s your world like?” she asked as she followed his lead. I want to know. Everything. The good and the bad.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Or spoiled. I know I’m fortunate. I don’t have to wonder whether I’ll lose my job and my home… though neither of those are guaranteed, either.”
Now she was starting to understand. If there was one thing most humans shared it was the need for stability. “Then your country wants to depose your family?”
“There’s a small group that would like to see us taken out of power, entirely. They’ve had some success. My parents have very little say in the actual governing of our land. From my understanding, far less than that of your president. The position is more like that of Britain’s queen. The king is unable, for instance, to declare war. Parliament is slowly chipping away all the crown’s power. I fear by the time my brother is crowned, he will be nothing but a figurehead. My father is doing his best to hold onto what power he has, but with the worldwide economy downslide, our economy has suffered too. And my family, and the costs of maintaining our properties, has been implicated in some of our people’s financial hardship.”
So his life wasn’t the fairytale she’d imagined. “I see.” Being a prince wasn’t just about castles and princesses and Caribbean islands. It was about protecting the future, for both his family and the country at large. It was about dealing with threats. And uncertainty. And responsibility.
“That’s why I’ve been working so hard,” he told her. “I want to turn things around. I need to turn things around, so that our family, and our holdings, become assets to our country, rather than liabilities.”
Now, she had an even greater respect for the man walking beside her.
He wasn’t ungrateful or spoiled, blind to all the riches surrounding him. He was unhappy because he wished to make a difference. And it wasn’t easy.
“Now I’m really sorry you’re stuck out here,” she admitted. “I had nothing to do with it. I hope you know that.”
“I do. It was Nichole’s plan. I know her well enough to know that.”
“And now I understand why you were treating me… why you wanted to send me away last month. You were trying to stay focused.”
“There’s no excuse for the way I treated you. That was only part of it, but yes. I was. My brothers don’t care if the crown is completely abolished. Not even Vin, who would be the next king. I would hate to see that happen, for the wonderful traditions that we’ve held onto for hundreds of years crumble to dust.”
He was a romantic, wishing to cling to the past.
And she could easily fall head-over-heels for him.
“There was another reason why I had to keep you at arm’s length, something that had nothing to do with work.”
Jenna’s breath caught. This was it, the real reason why he’d kept pushing her away. She could hear it in his voice. “What is it?”
“Three years ago I met this woman. Emelia. Beautiful, smart, independent, giving. And poor. She had nothing, but I didn’t care. She could never be a princess because my family would never accept her. I knew this too, and yet, being younger then, and foolish, I didn’t let that keep me from her. Maybe because I couldn’t stay away. Maybe because I was hoping love could really conquer all. We fell instantly in love. Deeply in love. When I was with her, the world was a different place. It was full of beauty and excitement.”
Ohmygod, the sadness in his voice made Jenna’s insides twist. “What happened?”
“My father put an end to it as soon as he found out. He forced me to move to the family’s estate on the other side of the country. I was broken-hearted, but it was far worse for Emelia. She was destroyed. Two months later she took her life. Dead
. The world had lost one of the most remarkable women it had ever been blessed with. And all because I’d let myself get carried away by love. I’d been a silly, dreaming fool. I vowed then and there it wouldn’t happen again.”
Jenna cupped her hands over her mouth. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing would help. So she simply stopped walking, turned to him, and extended her arms.
He crushed her in his embrace, holding her tightly against him. For the moment, she wouldn’t let them be prince and unemployed American girl. They were simply two souls, clinging to each other. They had found each other and were no longer facing the unknown alone. That was all. Friends. Partners. Standing together.
“If things were different, I would marry you,” Rafe whispered, his breath creating little puffy clouds in the chill. He leaned back, cupping her cheek in his gloved hand. “I realize we haven’t known each other long. But already I know you’re everything I’ve dreamed of finding in a woman. Intelligent. Resourceful. And most of all… honest. When you admitted that day, which feels like a lifetime ago, that you’d taken the job as my assistant to try to get hired at GLC, you earned my respect. And it was because of that respect that I kept trying not to fall in love with you.”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and dribbled along the side of her nose. Never had she heard such wonderful words. If only she could capture them in her fingers, and cling to them like precious stones. Already they’d evaporated. Like the mist of his breath.
“I could love you,” he confessed. Her heart practically burst from her body when those words sank in. “But I can’t have you. Not forever. It’s my father. He’s so… there’s no changing him. I’ve tried. I’ve done a lot of things to gain his respect. Rather, I’ve done a lot of things to try to gain his respect. Mostly I’ve failed. I can’t go against his wishes. I have to marry a woman who my father will accept. And the rest of the country.”
And pop! There went her bubble of happiness.
No. No, no, no! She would not let anything ruin this for her. Demanding fathers. Prejudiced citizens of foreign countries. To hell with them all.
Be My Princess - A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (Pretty Dirty Romance Book 1) Page 14
