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Back arching, sharp inhalation, silent scream. The Prince urges me on, whispering dirty nothings to me as I clench around his fingers. Squeezing my eyes shut as my whole body contracts, I listen to his grunts, and I realize he’s enjoying this.
My pleasure—he likes it. Loves it, even.
When he lifts himself off me, dragging his fingers out and bringing them to his lips, I feel flushed. Dizzy. So fucking horny all I want is more, more, more.
And I see the pure, unbridled lust in his expression.
This time, when I reach for his waistband, he doesn’t push me away. He watches me unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper, pushing the layers of fabric off his slim hips. Standing up to help me, he drops his pants to his feet.
My breath catches.
I’ve never thought penises to be beautiful, but I was wrong. He has a gorgeous cock. Long and thick and so incredibly hard.
And right now, it’s mine.
The Prince produces a condom from somewhere. I don’t see where. I’m too busy staring. I lean back on the bed, watching him position himself between my legs and roll the condom over his shaft.
I’m done thinking about regrets. We’ve crossed a thousand lines, and I’ll cross a thousand more to get what I want.
And what I want is him. Right now. Deep inside me.
But he teases me. He brushes his tip against me, then moves backward and drops his lips between my legs. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back.
His tongue feels like magic. It sends fire rushing through my veins and steals the breath right from my lungs. It makes my nipples tighten and my legs fall open. As I tangle my fingers in his hair, I find myself grinding against his face.
It’s brazen and naughty and not at all what I’m used to doing.
But wow, it feels good. When the Prince moves up to kiss me, I taste my own arousal on his lips. He drives his tongue inside my mouth and kisses me hard, rolling his hips against mine.
Then, with a slight adjustment, he gives me what I’ve been wanting all day. All week. My whole adult life, maybe.
His cock spears me deep, making my back arch and my lips drop open.
“Wolfe,” I cry out, running my nails down his broad, muscular back.
He grunts in response, driving inside me again. His body is all raw, commanding power. Every muscle bunches and releases as he thrusts inside me, and all I can do is cling onto him. My hands grip his shoulders, my legs wrap around his waist.
This is better than I expected. I won’t regret this. No way. There’s nothing I could regret about this. I didn’t even know sex could feel this good. I didn’t realize that—
I’m coming again.
This time, I scream. I say his name over and over again, crying out as my nails leave long red streaks across his back.
Wolfe, Wolfe, Wolfe.
He whispers in my ear in response, “Yes, princess. Come for me, Rowan. Come all over that cock.”
Dirty words that make my core clench and my orgasm ride higher. I forget that he’s a prince, because right now, it doesn’t matter. He’s a man. Beautiful, sexual, powerful man.
My body is on fire. My legs are wrapped around him like a vise, but he manages to push them open and roll me onto my stomach. I’m a rag doll, and I like it. I love it.
I love the way his arm scoops under my stomach and pulls me up to all fours. I love the way he lifts me up higher, so my back is against his chest. I love the way he enters me again, like this, clamping my body against his chest and fucking me senseless.
I didn’t know it was possible to come so many times in a row. What day is it, again? I’m not sure I even know my name. There’s a piece of hair in my mouth, but I barely have the wherewithal to spit it out.
And then I feel it.
Throbbing. Stiffening. The sheer power of his orgasm emptying into me. I gasp, trembling against him as he holds me close, his hand cupping my breast as my head rests against his chest.
