Page 112 of The Royal Art of Revenge

I blink. “Like a really close cuddle?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is small again. “I want to be close to you.”

No kidding.

It’s the only way she can get any closer to me short of cutting me open and crawling inside my skin.

“Are you sure?”

She tilts her head right back, meets my gaze, and nods. “Please.”

A groan bubbles up in my throat, and I bring my lips down to hers. She responds almost feverishly, taking control of my intended gentle kiss and flicking her tongue against my mouth. I part my lips, allowing my tongue to meet hers. She flexes her body against me and lightly drags her nails down my back, and her willingness to take me, despite it being for comfort as opposed to arousal, doesn’t make a difference to my body.

I react to her in an instant. My cock hardens, swelling against my underwear. I slide my hand down her body and under her nightshirt, then slip it beneath her knickers. She responds to my touch by angling her hips, and I reach my fingers between her legs.

She’s wet.

She’s so ready for me. I want to tease her, to run my fingers through her wet slit, to push them inside her and curl them in the way I’ve learnt she likes. I want to bring her to the brink and watch her tumble over the edge in the way she does so beautifully, but I stop myself.

That’s what I want.

Not what she wants.

“Roll over,” I whisper, withdrawing my hand from her underwear.

She extracts herself from the tangle that is our bodies and rolls over, pressing her back against my front. I tug down my pyjamas and boxers to free my cock, then reach between her legs to tuck her underwear to the side.

I grab my cock and guide it between her legs, rubbing the tip of it through her wetness. She parts her legs, raising the top one, and I shift back so I can enter her at the right angle.

Then, slowly, I push inside her.

Her pussy tightens around me, and I clench my jaw. This feeling is still so new, the sensations still so heady that I could come in a moment if I don’t focus on something else.

“Don’t. Don’t squeeze,” I say roughly. “If you do…”

Hattie stills. “I can’t help it sometimes. Why?”

“I’m going to come,” I murmur against her upper back, closing my eyes against the soft cotton. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”

She draws in a breath. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No. But, yes—it is when you just want me inside you. Give me a second.” I take a few deep breaths, holding them at the top, and wait for that edge of release to settle and pass me by.

She doesn’t move, as if she’s afraid any little twitch will make me blow.

She should be.

It was a very real fucking possibility for a moment there.

“Okay.” I run my hand down her thigh for her to lower her leg. “Get comfy.”

A small, low laugh escapes her, and her whole body shakes against mine.

“Harriet…”

“Sorry. Sorry.” She presses her back against my chest as I slide one of my legs between hers. “Is this okay for you?”

“Mm. Don’t worry about me.” I kiss the tender spot behind her ear. “Are you comfortable?”