Page 24 of Escape from the Green

My fingers were all wedged between his thighs, thumb brushing up against the most intimate part of him.

Oh, hell.

What was I supposed to do in this situation? Never having been in anything even resembling this kind of thing before, I had no clue.

If I moved too suddenly, I might wake him up.

And then he would know where my hand was.

A frustrated, insecure, embarrassed little part of me whispered about how it was no big deal since he had touched me exactly in the same place just the day before.

It was different, I reminded myself, trying to shake off the swirling, uncomfortable feeling in my belly that had been there since the moment the pleasure overtook my system. At his hands.

I'd been vaguely aware of the spell, though not that it was a spell at all. All I knew was my body was on fire, burning with need. It was all over at once, overwhelming. A tightened coil of need formed in my belly, so twisted that it was painful. My breasts had felt heavy, the very brush of my shirt over my hardened nipples enough to cause more sparks of need to overtake me. My skin felt like it was prickling with it. My brain felt slow and clouded by it.

It was all there was in the world.

Desire.

The need for release.

I had never felt something even remotely like it before.

It felt as though it was going to consume me, like I would combust if I didn't get relief, like I would become nothing but ashes and ember.

And then the world had shattered in a surge of pleasure so strong it felt like it moved from my core, shooting outward until it reached my scalp, my fingertips, the soles of my feet.

It was then that I was aware of Drake.

Of Drake's hand between my thighs, fingers pressing into the most sensitive part of me.

To break the spell, the rational part of my mind knew, understood that this was sex magic racking my system, that it would turn my brain to mush if it wasn't broken. He'd broken it. It was a cure. Cold and clinical.

The problem was it didn't feel cold and clinical. It felt like intimacy. It felt like warmth and goodness.

It felt like something someone else had never given me before.

Inwardly, I cringed at that.

It wasn't like it was a secret.

It was likely the reason the Dark Prince would even consider an offer.

Virginity was still worth a lot in some circles.

And my mother had done everything within her power to make sure it was a selling point she could use to gain her best advantage.

The guards that were allowed to be alone with me knew they would sacrifice their manhood if they so much as put a hand to my skin, a task my mother would delight in inflicting herself. With nothing more than a dull kitchen knife.

Not that a single one of them would have been my choice - were I even given one. She seemed to sense it when I had started having normal yearnings. It was around that time that any young, attractive guards were replaced with much older ones, balding ones, beady-eyed ones, and, well, not to be indelicate... but ugly ones.

I'd never been given the chance to be around men who I could consider, who would be allowed to consider me too.

And after all the years, I had perhaps begun to romanticize it, imagine it. Someday, with someone beautiful, with someone who saw me for who I was instead of a card to be played, who maybe, perhaps, loved me.

That was what I had wanted when I felt a man's hands on me the first time.

That was why I ran away to avoid becoming prey to the hands of the Dark Prince.