Page 77 of The Prince Who Loved Me

“I’m taking you back to the hotel.”

She nodded. Perhaps letting him take care of her wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter 18

Even though Massimo poked his head into the back alley and became a physical shield before letting Sebastien leave the gallery, Sebastien still did his own reconnaissance before giving Brandi’s hand a gentle tug and getting them into the car waiting by the back door. His driver closed them in, then retook his seat.

“Where to?”

“Hotel.”

“We will use the employee entrance,” Massimo stated.

With that out of the way, Sebastien settled into the back seat, putting his arm around Brandi’s shoulders.

She snuggled closer to him, her hand playing with the lapels of his jacket. The contact sent his nerve endings to celebrate where she touched. “Boy, when I ruin things, I do it in style, don’t I?”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He covered her hand so stop the maddening sensations. “What do you mean?”

“Your show.” She blinked up at him. “It was supposed to be anonymous, a way for you to assess how your art is received by those not knowing it was done by a prince. And now everyone knows.”

After what she just went through, and she was concerned for him. “I’m more worried about you.”

“I overreacted.”

“Your reaction was perfectly justified.”

“But I drew all the attention. It should have been your night. You’ve been working toward this for a long time.”

Sebastien held down his temper. Not for what Brandi was saying, but for what he heard in her words. That she felt his needs were more important. That she shouldn’t have defended herself if it meant making a situation bad for him. That she wasapologizing to appease him. “You mean more to me than an art show, Brandi. I can always get an opportunity to present my sketches later. There is no later when it comes to you. You’re my now. My always.”

She looked up him, tears forming in her multicolored eyes. “Are you sure?”

He didn’t answer, only gathered her to him and kissed her, inhaling her sweet, sugary scent. She fit perfectly against him.

She slid against him, straddling his thighs. Her breasts were level with his eyes, and he was hard-pressed not to fondle them.

He was hard-pressed, regardless.

He tilted his head back to look at her, his hand resting on her upper leg. Let her lead, so he’d know what she wanted. He wasn’t in it for her body, or for her to be the beautiful trophy on his arm. He wanted all of her. Every aspect.

She cupped her jaw with her hands, then lowered her lips to his. Her kisses always sent him to another level of pleasure, the intent way she put all her focus into the kiss, the way her soft mouth caressed his, the little gasps and small brushes of her hands on his shoulders, his back, his chest. He could kiss her all day and live a happy life.

She slid closer, her center meeting his hips. There was no way she wouldn’t feel his erection.

“Brandi…”

“This is what I want. You. Now.”

“We don’t have to.” It killed him to say that.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for days. Having you alone without fear of interruption? How could I not want this?”

“We’re not really alone.”

She leaned forward and licked his neck the same time her hand found his erection. She stroked him through his trousers,her body thrusting in rhythmic time, as her tongue trailed up and down. He’d never been so aroused. He ran his hands down her back, caressing and scratching and rubbing as he moved.

When he could take no more of her teasing, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and back and leaned forward, putting his mouth even with her breasts. Now it was his turn, licking and nipping at the swell accessible above the neckline of her dress.