Page 43 of Princess and Country

Dahlia rose to her toes. “I want to, Jeff. It’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. Not the single playing on the radio. Not the record deal or the ton of money we were promised. All I want is you. No one else. Nothing else. The rest is just noise. Sure, it’s fun, but you and I are all that matters. Please love me.”

I cocked my head, studying my amazing girlfriend. Did she have any idea how bad she owned me? With her hair tied in a braid, her skinny jeans, black tank top, and cowboy boots, she looked every bit of gorgeous. Tonight, though, sex oozed from her. It was in her smile, the curves of her waist, the way she moved her hips. Dahlia grinned at me, grazing her lower lip, and my heart almost burst out of my chest.

“Fuck, I love you, Princess.”

I scooped her over my shoulder again and brought her to the bedroom. The one that would be ours. Someday.

Dahlia lay on her back, my body hovering over hers, my fingers tangled in her hair. My lips cherished her jaw, neck, then her collarbone, and went back to her lips. She writhed underneath me, almost sending me to oblivion with only her touch.

“We can just kiss,” I said, my voice low and gravelly, before crashing my lips on hers again. And again. Taking her mouth hostage, her tongue swirling against mine.

The room, lit only by the high moon shining through the window, cast a shadow of our entangled bodies on the wall. In the dim light, Dahlia’s eyes sparkled. She stared at me as if I could do no wrong.

Her eyes bore into mine, and she snaked her arms around my back, keeping me close to her.

“No. I want it all. Tonight.”

* * *

With my naked body pressed against Dahlia’s soft chest, I drowned in her irises. They sucked me in. My body pulsated with so much need I ached to be inside her. To move to the rhythm of her hips. To let her consume me. But I was also afraid to hurt her. My mouth was dry, my breathing fast. The taste of her lingered on my lips. Her sweetness had woken all my senses and shattered me into millions of particles. How many times before did I dream about pleasuring her with my tongue? I’d stopped counting a long time ago.

Naked between my arms, Dahlia traced the length of my jawline with her finger. “Stop overthinking it. I’ll be fine.” Could she read my mind? “I’m ready. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Her hand lowered between us and wrapped around my erection. I squirmed. And closed my eyes. My throat worked. My lips ate her, wanting to taste all of her again. There was no turning back now. I was long gone for the copper-haired girl who owned me, heart and soul. I delved one finger inside her.

“You’re so wet, Princess.”

“Because you turn me on. Oh—Yes. More. Gimme more.”

I inserted a second finger inside her, stretching her, her walls tight around my digits. Dahlia rolled her hips, chasing her own pleasure.

“Do you want to stop?”

My girl shook her head. “No. Never.”

“Then I think now you’re ready.”

I rose to my feet and hurried to the bathroom to fish out a condom. Straddling Dahlia’s body, I sat on my heels to roll the rubber on. With her finger, she signaled me to come closer. She cast me under her spell. My eyes took in her naked flesh, ready to be cherished. My lips claimed hers with force. With love. With desire.

Carefully, I slid inside her warmth, giving her time to adjust to me. Dahlia yelped and dug her nails in the skin of my shoulders.

I froze.

After a moment, I reclined to watch her.

“Are you all right?”

Dahlia opened her eyes, and she showered me with love.

“I’ve never been better. Please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

My tongue tasted the seam of her lips.

She moaned. I groaned.

And I slid back home where I belonged.