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He grabs the bottle of wine and tops up both our glasses. The pause lasts so long I think he might not answer, but he finally sits back and meets my eye. “I’m here because it felt like I was suffocating after you left. Because if I stayed in that ballroom with those people for a minute longer, I might make a scene. Because being on my own in my hotel room didn’t seem much better. Maybe because I just wanted to hear you say my name at least once more before the night was over.”
I can’t handle the intensity of his gaze, so I stand up. I turn to face the window, sipping my glass of wine as my mind reels.
The Prince of Nord is here. He wants me.
Feeling more than hearing him stand up, I keep my gaze trained on the lights of Farcliff City outside my window.
Silas’s hand slides over my lower back as he settles in beside me, his fingers curling around my waist. “Are you okay, Jazz?”
His question surprises me. I glance at the Prince, trying to find an ulterior motive in his words, but seeing nothing hurtful in his eyes. It honestly looks like he cares.
My mind blares alarms at me, telling me to pull away. I’ve been in this situation before. I’ve been vulnerable with a man like Silas in the past, and it blew up in my face. There’s more at stake now—my career, my reputation, my future. I’m not some young girl in a small town anymore, I’m a woman with a career. That career was built on criticizing Silas’s entire family.
But now…
Nothing makes sense. He’s not the privileged, arrogant man I thought he’d be. Silas is possibly the most down-to-earth person I’ve ever met. I feel like I can talk to him about anything, things I haven’t even told Rhea. My heart gallops in my chest as I close my eyes, and I find myself leaning toward him.
The Prince’s fingers slide over my chin, forcing me to glance up at him. He’s close to me. Chest pressed against mine. Arm around my waist. His hand finds my glass, and he slides it out of my grasp and places it on the trolley. Then, both hands cup my cheeks.
I…I like this. I like being in his arms, his embrace. Having his hands on my face, his eyes devouring me. I know I’m falling for all the same things I told myself I’d never fall for, but I can’t help it. Silas’s face is earnest. Open. Honest.
“I’m afraid,” I whisper, averting my eyes.
“Of what?” His voice is full of gravel.
“Letting you in.”
One hand drops off my cheek and slides over my waist. He pulls me close, wrapping me in his arms, and I can’t resist. Not that I’d want to. I twist my hands into his shirt and nuzzle against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms, the complete safety of his embrace.
In the end, it’s me who looks up at him. Me who curls my fingers around the nape of his neck. Me who pulls him down to my lips.
His eyes flick between mine as his lips hover an inch away, fingers sinking into the flesh at my hip. With the fingers of his other hand, he strokes my cheek. “You’re beautiful, Jazz.”
Emotion chokes my throat. I don’t know if it’s lust or something else, but it grows so fast in my chest that it’s hard to breathe. It’s like there’s a balloon inflating in my ribcage, pushing everything else to the edges.
Silas leans closer, his breath warm against my skin. I’m going to faint.
Then, finally, the Prince kisses me.
He starts slowly, brushing his lips against mine before teasing them open. He slides his tongue over my bottom lip and lets out a low growl when he tastes me. Heat sparks between my thighs, and I cling onto his shirt. I pull him close, tangling my fingers into his hair, needing more, more, more.
Tension knots in my gut, and my blood turns to fire. His lips—soft, warm, unyielding—are perfect. When he slides his tongue into my mouth and deepens our kiss, I let go of the last of my inhibitions.
This is what I want. I don’t care about convictions or reputations. I don’t care about what happened before or what will happen after. Silas came here—for me. He left the gala where he supposedly belongs and pushed my food trolley to my room.
He’s not some arrogant prince who thinks I’m beneath him. There’s something between us, and this kiss is irrefutable proof. I feel it in the way his lips skate over mine, and how his hands splay over my back. How he tangles his fingers into my hair and groans in pleasure before pulling my head back to brush my neck with his lips.
Every movement feels like he’s just holding himself together, barely on the edge of control. And…I feel the same. I claw at his shirt, pulling his bowtie off and scrambling to unbutton his top. My heart skips a beat as his hands slide down to grab my ass, pulling me close to him.
I feel it, then. Him.
Hard, thick, and all mine. He grinds himself against me, pushing me up against the window. The cool glass does nothing to temper my overheating body. If anything, it only makes the heat of his kiss more intense. I gasp when he drops his lips to my neck and slides his hands under my shirt, every bit of me arching and aching for him.
When Silas’s hands slide up my sides, his thumbs brush the underside of my breasts. Sparks fly through my veins as his fingers move over my breasts in small movements, inching closer to my pebbled nipples. His teeth scrape over my neck as he groans, grinding himself against me.
There’s no restraint. This is more than a kiss. It’s everything I’ve wanted from a man, delivered all at once. An injection straight to the heart. I don’t know if I can handle having sex with him, because my head is already a mess. When his thumb brushes over my nipple, I jerk toward him with a gasp. It’s like he knows every spot that will send pleasure coursing through my veins. He knows what buttons to push. They exist only for him.
A dark chuckle slips through his lips, and I let my head fall back against the glass.
