Since it no longer weighed anything, I undid my seatbelt and stood, my knees wobbling. “We’re okay.”
I’d disliked him for so long, and now everything was upside-down. His eyes were full of shame and his lips twisted downward in a frown, and I hated the way it looked on him. I even preferred the cocky version he pretended to be over this.
“You did pretty good up until the end, there,” I said, desperate to relieve the tension, “but maybe don’t fire your driver.”
A faint smile warmed his lips. “Do you want to know what my final thought was when we were headed for that creek?”
Please say something sexy. Because my heart was still racing, and adrenaline filled my bloodstream. “What was it?”
“That this is all your fault.”
My mouth dropped open. “My fault?”
The heat in his eyes was the only hint he wasn’t being serious. Or perhaps he wasn’t talking about the near crash but was accusing me of something else. I didn’t get time to think about it. He used one strong hand to grip my waist and pull my body crashing into him, and the other to cradle my face, angling my head so he could claim my lips.
Our last kiss had been restrained since we were in his office in the middle of the work day. Now there was no one around to interrupt the intense, wild way he kissed me. His tongue pressed at the seam of my lips and demanded entrance, which I gave with a soft sigh. Warmth bloomed in my center and spread along my limbs, heating me to my toes and fingertips.
Our kiss started with passion, but it morphed into something different the longer our mouths were melded. It became harder. Darker. Reckless.
His hand twined in my hair, tugged at the strands, and moved right to the edge of pain. I put my hand on his shoulder and sank my fingernails into the meaty part of his arm. He escalated by sliding his hand down my back and gripped my ass so hard, I rose up onto my toes, pushing deeper into him.
I’d kept my raw, primal desire for Royce contained for a year, but this kiss? It unleashed all of it. Lust poured out of me in a throaty moan. It ached and throbbed between my legs as an empty feeling I was desperate for him to fill. And it intensified as he abandoned my lips and nipped at my neck, yanking so hard on my hair it stole my breath.
His teeth said he was angry with me, like he was mad about how much he wanted me, but his lips replaced the sting and wordlessly showed me he wasn’t. Using his hold, he moved us one stumbling step so he could pin me flat to the backseat door.
Sunlight dappled through the trees. Birds called out. Cicadas buzzed their deafeningly loud hum from seemingly nowhere yet all around us in the forest. It fed into the belief that Royce and I were entirely alone. The last two souls on the Earth.
He worked a hand up my shirt and raked his fingers over the cup of my bra, trying to get inside. I wanted to take everything off and give him free rein over my body. I wanted him to have me, and I’d waited a year for this.
“I want you,” I whispered.
“What?” He growled it in my ear. He’d heard what I’d said but demanded I repeat it anyway. And to distract me, he adjusted his stance so his leg was between mine and his thigh pressed at the junction of my legs. Pleasure was hot lighting coursing through me as he ground against my center.
“You could have killed us, and I would have died a virgin.”
He stepped away from me so abruptly, I nearly fell to the ground without his support. He stroked a hand over his lips, like he was wiping away the taste of my kiss. His expression was hard, and chaos swarmed in his eyes. “You’re not going to.”
“Great.” My word was sharp like the need he created inside me. I kept my gaze fixed on him as I grabbed the handle and wrenched open the door to the back seat. “Then, let’s do this.”
Anger tensed every muscle in him. His chest expanded as he pushed forward and got in my face. “Oh, believe me, Marist. I’m going to fuck you. But not today.”
What the hell was his deal? He wasn’t a virgin, and he was obviously interested in me. I wasn’t asking him something difficult. “Why not?”
“Because,” he said with exasperation, “I’m not taking your virginity in the back seat of your Porsche.”
That problem was easily solved. “Okay. Let’s go back to your place.”
“No. Why are you in such a hurry?”
A noise of frustration seeped out of me. “Oh, I don’t know—because I want to know what it’s like? I’m ready. I did what you asked. I waited, Royce. For you. For a whole fucking year where it was all I could think about, and I don’t understand how you’re not dying like me.”
The words had run out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I swallowed a breath at what I’d revealed.
His hard edge softened and blurred until it was gone. He motioned to the open back seat. “Get in.”
Yes. I scrambled across the leather bench seat and was relieved when he followed, folding his long legs into the small space before shutting the door behind himself. He turned to me, and his lips parted, but nothing came out. There was something he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words. Or perhaps they were choked in his throat.
His hesitation made me nervous.
He smoothed his hands along his thighs and finally found his voice. “In my experience, the first time is uncomfortable for girls.”
I lowered my chin so I could look at him with a plain expression. “Deflowered a lot of virgins, have you?”
“Some, yeah. I want to give you . . .” his lips pressed together as he struggled, “the best chance for you to enjoy it the first time.”
He was so serious, and it was sobering. “Okay, sorry. I’m not following you. What do you—”
He moved quickly. His mouth was hot and urgent, thrust to mine. His hands went to the snap of my jeans and made quick work of dropping my zipper. I still didn’t understand what he’d meant, but he seemed to be on board now, so I let it go. There was awkward twisting and fumbling as we sat side by side and struggled to push the denim down over my hips and legs. I hadn’t gotten the jeans past my ankles before he shoved a hand down the front of my panties and touched me.
I gasped and latched a hand on his forearm. Not to stop him. It was instinctual from the sensation he caused. It felt so good. A featherlight caress over my swollen clit, but it packed a punch of pleasure, and a shudder rattled through me.
It was warm in the car, but not terribly so. Still, sweat blossomed on my skin. Royce’s distracting mouth on mine and his hand grinding against me caused my knees to fall open as wide as possible with the jeans still wrapped around my ankles. I looked ridiculous like this. My shirt was on, and it couldn’t look sexy, me in this state of half-undress. But his hand moving inside my black satin underwear? That was undeniably hot.
I broke the kiss and pressed my forehead to his. His dick was already half-hard, straining against the fly of his shorts. I whispered as I reached for him. “Let’s get naked.”
But he shifted to prevent my touch and slid a finger past my entrance. I was already breathless and coming apart, but his voice was low and solid. “I’m dictating how this goes, Marist.”
His thick finger slipped further inside, making me freeze. Like last time, his gentle, slow thrust felt uncomfortably tight but also weirdly good. I liked the stretch of my body as it got used to him.
I let out a shuddering breath as he leaned over and pulsed his finger in and out, going a little deeper with each pass. He stopped kissing me abruptly and withdrew. It was so he could jerk the front of my panties down. When I understood what he was trying to do, I closed my legs and lifted my hips, helping him work my underwear down until it was also caught around my ankles.
This time, when he plunged his finger back inside me, he wasn’t gentle. He asserted his ownership of me, and my body responded, clamping down. He let out an appreciative groan, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a wicked smile.
He rocked his finger in and out, picking up the pace as he studied me. That dark, intense stare of
his was as fiery as the sun. Now, it was sweltering in the car. Sweat dampened my temples and the nape of my neck.
I tipped my head back, letting it rest on the seat as trembles inched up my legs—
“Oh,” I said on a shallow breath.
One finger felt good, but two fingers . . . were too much, too fast. I had a hand on his shoulder, but I curled my fingers into a fist. My body tightened with discomfort. I knew I’d get used to it, but I needed a moment.
“Uh . . .” I started.
He blinked slowly. “Too much?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
He stilled, leaving his fingers lodged inside me. “My dick’s bigger than two fingers,” he whispered. “You sure you still want it?”
My mouth rounded into an ‘oh’ as I realized what he was doing. He was hoping I’d back down from this challenge, but it wasn’t going to work. I wanted it too much. “I’m fine. Just go slow.”
It was strange how he could look disappointed and relieved at the same time. His fingers moved, unhurried and deliberate, working the tension loose from my muscles. The dull ache of fullness eased, and it wasn’t long before I began to rock my hips in time with his thrusts.
The air in the car was so humid, I was breathing in liquid. I closed my eyes as Royce planted a kiss on my lips. I couldn’t watch the corded muscles in his arm flex as he sawed his fingers deep between my legs. He mouthed more kisses on my chin and down my neck.
“When I put a ring on your finger,” he murmured in the hollow of my throat, “I’ll fuck you non-stop. I’m going to get inside you, Marist, and probably never want to leave.”
My eyelids burst open.
“But not until then,” he added.
Before I could process what he meant, he wedged three fingers inside me, driving deep and hard. My body jerked, and I hissed loudly. This wasn’t discomfort.
It was pain.
A hot, intense sting, like a bandage being ripped off in a quick, unapologetic jerk.
I seized his wrist with both hands and shoved him away, but it was too late. His fingertips came away smeared red with my blood.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly.
His apology had sounded genuine, but there wasn’t shock or surprise in his voice—like he’d expected this to happen. His words from earlier finally made sense, how he’d wanted to give me the best chance for me to enjoy my first time.
He’d broken my hymen just now, and he’d done it intentionally.
Chapter Eleven
I straightened in my seat and stared at Royce. Inside my head, I cursed his stupid handsome face and what he’d done. My cheeks burned a million degrees. I didn’t want to look at his fingers, or down at my legs. The ache was either subsiding, or I was too scattered and embarrassed to notice it anymore.
“Why?” I demanded.
His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow, and guilt rushed through his expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought this might make our first time less traumatic.”
“Traumatic?” Jesus. “It’s just sex, Royce. Not war.”
He had no response to that. Maybe he was thinking I was a naïve virgin and he knew better. Was I Medusa now? He sat in the tense silence, utterly still. Even in statue form, he was beautiful. I wanted him to pull me into his arms. He needed to do something fast, because emotions roiled in my belly, and I worried I might start to freak out.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“I changed my mind.” I didn’t want to show weakness, but all the desire in me had fled. Now I just wanted to be dressed as quickly as possible and pretend this never happened. I leaned forward and grabbed the jeans wadded at my feet. He nodded in understanding and leaned between the front seats, reaching to grab the package of tissues on the tray in my console.
“I thought you might. You still haven’t answered me, though.” He pulled out a tissue for himself and handed the pack to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said curtly. I was aware I was being unfair to him. I’d asked for this, and although he’d been misguided, he had been trying to help me. Part of me was relieved to have this part over with. “I can’t stand the sight of blood.”
His gaze left mine and drifted down to the tissues in my hand. “Do you need me to—”
“Nope,” I said.
God, no. He didn’t seem squeamish or fazed by this, but I wasn’t about to accept his help cleaning me up. When we both finished our tasks and I was buttoning my pants, my confidence inched back into place.
“You should have asked if that was how I wanted it done.”
His gaze was heavy. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I sighed. “It’d be easier to argue with you if you’d stop agreeing with me.”
“I know it’s fucked up, but I was trying to help.” He turned to face me, bringing one of his legs up onto the seat and propped an elbow on the seat back. “Are we okay?”
Were we? I stared at my knees, unable to hold his gaze.
“I don’t know,” I said softly. I wanted us to be.
He reached out and grasped my chin, turning me to look at him. His fingertips slid over my cheekbone so he could cup my face.
“This whole thing?” I continued. “The situation we’re in . . . it’s so fucked up.”
His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. “Yeah.”
I could read the thought he had loudly on his face. What he really wanted to say was, you have no idea. But he didn’t. Instead he moved in until there was no space left and captured my lips with his.
* * *
It was sunny but windy outside, and the water on the bay was tumultuous. I watched the whitecaps froth on the waves through the window in Alice’s office, and it matched the emotions swirling inside me. I sat alone, waiting with my legs crossed and my foot bouncing with nerves.
I hadn’t seen Royce since Saturday afternoon. He had corporate events and business dinners, and obligations he promised to fulfill on his father’s behalf. He’d texted me a few times during the week under the guise of quizzing me on board members, but I believed it was really an excuse to talk to me.
I kind of liked it.
Would I see him now before the interview? Or would he be in the room as well?
I was sure I didn’t have time to text him and ask. Alice had left me in her office while she went to check on the boardroom and make sure everything was set up. I drummed my fingers on the armrests of my chair. I’d sat for interviews before, but they had been for summer internships. Not something where the stakes were so high.
No matter how much I’d tried to tighten finances and forced my parents to squirrel money away, my family would struggle if I failed.
“They’re ready for you.”
I swiveled toward Alice’s voice and gazed at her as she stood in the hallway, her gray dress matching the steel skyscrapers outside. My heart stayed in my seat as I stood and filed out of her office, clutching the handle of my purse so tightly, my hand ached.
“Do I look all right?” I despised how timid I sounded, and I knew better. If the wind had destroyed my hair or I’d smeared my lipstick on the elevator ride up, Alice would have told me when I first arrived.
I’d spent the last five years learning how not to care about other people’s opinions, and it was impossible to unlearn it in ten days.
Her smile was all brilliantly-white teeth. “You look lovely.”
I fell in step with her as we went down the corridor, marching toward the biggest conversation of my life. It was sure to be hard, but if this went well, I’d be able to finish my degree and save my family, and as a bonus, I’d end up with the prince who dominated my thoughts.
The same prince who was waiting beside the door, his arms folded across his chest and leaning against the wall. He wore a black three-piece suit and a green tie, which perfectly matched the emerald green dress I wore. It had to be intentional on Alice’s part. It made us look like we belonged toge
ther.
Like a couple.
“You look nervous,” was the greeting he gave me, which didn’t help my anxiety.
Alice lifted her gaze to the ceiling, annoyed. “Don’t tell her that. She looks perfect.”
His focus slid down me, tracing my curves appreciatively. The dress was simple. One deep color and cut modestly, but tailored so it flattered my figure. Conservative but not stuffy. Professionally feminine, Alice had called it. That was what she wanted my brand to be.
“I look nervous,” I said, “because I am.”
He straightened from the wall, and his shadow fell on me. “Don’t be. You’ll be fine.”
Alice was less convinced. “Just answer the questions honestly, even if some of them make you uncomfortable, and it shouldn’t take long.”
Alarm pricked at me. “Uncomfortable? Like, what?”
Her face went blank. She was a computer accessing files from the archives. “Medical history. Personal stuff.”
“Oh.” My apprehension grew.
“I’m going to introduce you,” Royce said, “but I can’t stay.” He gave me a final once-over. “Ready?”
No. Not at all. “Yes.”
“Good luck.” Alice flashed a supportive smile.
He took my elbow and guided me through the door, keeping his voice at a hush, only for me. “You don’t need luck. You’ve got an ace up your sleeve.”
I glanced at him in surprise. “I do?”
It was too late for him to explain. We were now in the boardroom and the interview had officially started.
There was a lot to take in. The ceilings were tall and the room wide, but my eye went to the long conference table and the reflection of the Boston skyline in its glossy finish. The outer wall was all windows like the offices, but since we were on the opposite side of the building, the sun-drenched city stretched out for miles beyond the glass.
Eight pairs of eyes sharpened on us as Royce urged me deeper into the room.
Four men in suits sat on one side of the table, three on the other, and Macalister presided at the head. Was it another Hale tradition to have his chair sit taller than the rest, to make him more impressive and opposing? Because it was working. He held dominion over the room.
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