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Rowan
What is regret,really?
Feeling sad or disappointed about something we’ve done in the past? About something we didn’t do? Feeling the tug of what if?
So, as the Prince lets out a soft moan, his lips brushing against mine, I have to wonder.
What would I regret more—if I stopped, or kept going?
Wolfe’s hands sweep up my sides, his palms leaving goose bumps in their wake. His touch feels too good. My head spins. Every sense is wrapped up in him.
His smell everywhere, urging my heartbeat faster. The sight of his body straining against the fabric of his clothes. The touch of his fingers against my skin. The sound of those little grunts and moans and groans that slips through his lips when he kisses me.
But oh, the taste of him. That’s what does me in. My kisses drift down his neck and I let my tongue slide out to touch his skin. Hard and smooth and warm and mine.
I want more. I claw at him, tearing at his shirt until he pulls it off and tosses it aside. With a grunt, the Prince picks me up so I wrap my legs around his waist. The heat and hardness of his erection presses against my center, and I wish we weren’t wearing so many clothes.
I need him inside me. Need him on top of me. Underneath me. Everywhere.
The Prince starts walking, kicking the studio door open and stepping through. My hands tease through his thick, black hair as my lips find his. His stubble scratches my skin, and I wonder how good it would feel if he brushed it against the inside of my thigh. If he teased the very center of me with that deliciously bad tongue of his. He carries me down a narrow hallway and through another door, finally setting me down.
“You’ve been driving me wild since the moment I saw you lying in the snow,” the Prince says. His eyes are dark, burning with hot fire. He nudges his nose against mine, his hands splayed across my lower back. When he slips the tips of his fingers beneath the waistband of my pants, I let out a low whimper.
More. I want more.
“Wolfe…” I tilt my head back as his lips brush my neck, teasing the sensitive skin all the way up to my jaw.
With a low growl, the Prince pulls away. “I love the way you say my name.”
I meet his gaze, my vision hazy with lust. “How do I say it?”
“Like you need me.”
“Easy, tiger.” I grin. “You’re tipping into arrogant asshole territory again.”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” With a grin, the Prince pulls me close. He rolls his hips toward me, letting me feel the length of him. I sigh, my eyes fluttering closed.
When he gently pushes me away, I let out a low whimper.
“On the bed,” the Prince commands. He spins me around and marches me to the side of the four-poster bed, watching as I climb on top the plush mattress. I lie back while he flicks the lamp on.
“I want to see your face when you come,” he says, flashing a grin at me. “See if it looks like what I’ve imagined.”
“You’re an ass,” I say, biting the tip of my finger. “It’s a good thing you’ve got that body to make up for it.”
The Prince grunts, scooping his hand underneath me to flip me over. He lays a smack across my ass as I yelp, laughing.
“You deserve a good spanking for speaking to your liege like that,” Wolfe says.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see his eyes darken. I turn around again, biting my lip. “Technically, I’m not from here, so you’re not my—”
In one lightning-fast motion, the Prince tugs my pants down to mid-thigh, throws me onto my stomach, and lays another smack across my ass. I squeal, breathless, my face mashing into the pillow as stinging pain flashes across my bare skin.
And…wow. Another sharp crack of his palm against my skin.
I like it.
Again.
