The Prince (28 page)

Laughing, she leaned her head against the center of his chest and exhaled. Wesley sighed and rested his chin on top of it.

“I have hope for us,” he whispered. “We might get the sex wrong, but I think we get everything else right. In romance novels, the woman is flawlessly beautiful, right? You’ve got that part down.”

Nora turned her exquisite face up to him and smiled in the moonlight. A lightning bug flashed its light by her eyes and Wesley’s stomach clenched.

“Definitely got that,” he repeated.

Nora reached up and pushed his shirt open and started to slowly slide it off his shoulders.

“Men in romance novels always have perfect bodies. Big broad shoulders with sexy definition, flat, hard stomach, those good veins in the forearms...” As she dragged his shirt off him, she touched every inch of his chest—his shoulders, his stomach, his forearms. “You’ve got the perfect male body down. Definitely. We’re almost there.”

“What are we missing?” Wesley gently pulled the clip out of Nora’s hair, freeing the black waves to fall down her back. She raised her arms and he pulled her shirt off, leaving her in only her black bra and skirt.

“We have to make love now. Not fucking. Not sex. Making love. They never call it fucking in romance novels. Oh, unless it’s between the villain and his mistress. They’re allowed to fuck. The hero has to make love to the heroine. Gently at first, until the passion overcomes him and he’s lost in the blah-blah…all that garbage.”

“Make love to you. I can do that. I think.”

Nora grinned. “None of that. Can’t have any honest self-doubt. Gotta be kind of an asshole if you’re going to be a romance-novel hero. Only Alphas, no Betas. Sorry.” She wagged her finger at him before laying her hand on his stomach and tracing the line of his hips with her fingertips.

“Then I don’t want to be a romance-novel hero. I just want to be me with you. And I’ve got nothing but self-doubt right now. Nora…what the hell do I do?”

She slid both hands up to his chest and rested them right under his collarbone.

“It’s me. You can do anything you want.”

Wesley nodded and took one more deep breath. He held her by the nape of the neck and brought his lips to her mouth in a kiss more ferocious than he ever dreamed he’d be capable of. Nora moaned softly in the back of her throat as she leaned into the kiss.

He ran his hands all over her skin—her soft smooth arms, up and down her back, over the exposed tops of her breasts. Her breasts…no woman in the world had breasts like Nora. Wesley reached behind her back and unclasped her bra.

“Holy…I got it this time.”

“Good job, kid.” Nora shrugged her shoulders as he slid the straps of her bra down her arms. “Practice makes perfect.”

“We didn’t need the bolt cutters this time.”

“No. We just needed you.” Nora rolled back on the table and Wesley could only gaze at her breasts. He laid his hand on her stomach, which contracted under his touch. His nervousness gave way to pure desire. He took her breasts in his hands and held them, kneading them gently.

“Is this okay?” he asked, wanting Nora to feel as good as she made him feel.

“Very okay. But don’t forget the nipples. That’s where the magic happens.”

“I would never forget the nipples.” He took her nipples between his index fingers and thumbs and lightly pinched. Nora gasped, her back coming an inch off the table. Wesley froze. “Good gasp or bad?”

“Good. Really really good gasp.”

“Good. Great.” He returned to her nipples with renewed confidence as Nora lay beneath his hands, panting with his every touch. Soon touching wasn’t enough for him. He pulled her closer to him, slid an arm under her back and brought his lips down onto her breast. Gently he drew her nipple into his mouth. Nora’s soft panting turned into loud moaning. She dug her hands into his hair again as he kissed his way from one nipple to the other.

“I’m starting to like the longer hair. It’s…useful.”

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and playfully tugged at it.

“Does that mean you’ll stop bugging me to cut it off?”

“Nope. Keep kissing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With relish Wesley returned to Nora’s breasts, kissing her nipples, sucking them, turning them between his fingers. He wanted more, but also never wanted to stop. The way she breathed and murmured small sounds of pleasure in the back of her throat intoxicated him. He couldn’t get enough of it, enough of her. The first time they’d tried this they’d been on Nora’s bed back at her house. Everything had been perfect then—the sunlight filling the room, the evening light that crept in under the door, the silk camisole he’d pulled off Nora before putting her onto her back…and now they were out on the damn dock where anyone could find them. Moths and mosquitoes danced around them. He was dirty. She was definitely going to get splinters in her back. And he couldn’t care less. The doubt had gone. The fear. Everything but the desire and the sense that even if he screwed this up somehow, it would still be right.

“Wesley…” His name escaped Nora’s lips on a breath.

“I’m here,” he said, kissing the center of her chest.

She raised her head and rested a hand on the side of his face. “You’re killing me.”

Wesley’s eyes went wide. “Wait…what? I’m killing you?”

“There’s foreplay and there’s torture. Torture’s what you-know-who does.”

“I thought…I thought you liked it.”

Nora propped herself up on her elbows.

“I fucking love it. And if you don’t get inside me in the next five seconds, I’ll love it so much I’ll die.”

Blood rushed to Wesley’s face. And from his face rushed straight to his groin.

“I can do that. I think.”

“You can. You will. Or we’ll die trying.”

Wesley pushed Nora’s skirt up to her hips and started to yank her panties down her legs.

“Tear them if you have to. Hell, tear them if you don’t.”

“I’m trying to stay calm here, Nor. This isn’t helping.”

“I’m beyond calm now. Underwear off yet?”

“Now it is.” Wesley tossed her black silk panties on the ground. Now more than ever he wished they had some decent light. He’d dreamed of seeing Nora naked, of her spreading her legs for him and letting him see every part of her... But even in the low light he could make out her thighs parting for him, her folds opening, and the tiny silver stud shining at the entrance of her body. “God…”

“Clit hood piercing. Does it freak you out?”

Wesley placed his hands on her inner thighs and pushed them open a little wider.

“Opposite of freaked out right now. God, Nora, you’re so beautiful.”

He gently brought two fingers to her and pushed her open.

“You never saw your girlfriend—”

He shook his head. “Never got that far with her. Kind of a point-of-no-return place.” He couldn’t believe how soft Nora felt, how silky…like flower petals.

“No going back now. Just forward. And in.”

She reached down between her legs and touched herself.

“I haven’t had sex in a week, Wes. Just a warning.”

“Oh, no. A whole week.”

“That’s like a year in vanilla time. We might need some extra lubrication to get you in. I haven’t forgotten what you’re packing.”

“Lubrication? I don’t have—”

Nora rolled up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her bare breasts to his chest. Her mouth came to his and she pushed her tongue between his lips.

She bit down on his tongue and whispered, “Lubrication.”

And then he understood.

Nora stretched out on the table again. Wesley pushed her legs back open as he licked his lips in nervous anticipation.

“Lip licking is good. But mine. Not yours.”

“Right. Okay. Definitely.” He separated Nora’s folds with his fingertips once more. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Just kiss me. Only down there. Think of it as a kiss.”

“Just a kiss…” he repeated, and brought his mouth down onto her.

He’d dreamed of doing this to Nora. One of his Yorke friends complained that he had to go down on his girlfriend for half an hour to get her to orgasm. Nothing else would do it. Wesley remembered hearing that and thinking that spending thirty minutes with his head between Nora’s thighs sounded like the best thirty minutes of his life. And now he could taste the tartness of her on his tongue, smell her scent that was so womanly and erotic, feel the ball of her piercing, her swollen clitoris and the folds of her labia with his mouth.

Nora lifted her hips and he pushed his tongue into her vagina.

“Wesley…please,” she moaned, and he didn’t have to ask what she meant this time.

He pulled away from her long enough to open his pants and free himself from his jeans and boxers. Nora reached down between them and took him in her hand. When she stroked him it became Wesley’s turn to moan.

Nora let him go as she raised her knees close to her chest, and Wesley waited.

“Nora?”

She took his hands in hers and twined their fingers together.

“I love you, Wes.” She said the words simply and Wesley could reply in only one way.

He pushed inside her.

For years he’d dreamed of this moment, dreamed of joining his body with hers. And now she surrounded him, enveloped him in her warm, wet heat. So complete…he felt so complete inside her. Inside Nora…Wesley was inside Nora. I am
inside Nora...
The words echoed through his mind, the idea as potent as the reality.

He thrust deep into her, not able to stop himself from burrowing in as far as he could and wrapping as much of her around him as possible. Nora arched on the table, her back lifting off the white wood.

Stunned by the shock of sensation, Wesley nearly forgot he was supposed to move. But the intense undulations of Nora’s hips urged him on, and he began to thrust—slowly at first, and when she moved—no, writhed under him—he began to push harder into her.

“God…Nora,” was all he could gasp. He had no other words. God and Nora. They became the same person at that moment. He worshipped at the altar of her body and for a moment he felt the power of their union as a communion.

Nora wrapped her legs around his back, bringing him even closer into her, even deeper. Trapped in the circle of her legs, Wesley could only make short, sharp thrusts that brought him to the edge. But he was no kid—
twenty years old,
he scolded himself. He would make this last longer than five minutes if it killed him. And it just might kill him.

Deliberately, he slowed his breathing, looked past her breasts, her body, and out onto the rolling acres, black and silent under the shroud of night. He studied the fireflies as they illuminated that darkness like tiny earthbound stars. He breathed in and inhaled the pungent scent of the pond in August. Calmer now, he brought his gaze back to Nora—to the smile that swept across her face, through her eyes—and down to where their bodies joined together. He had to look, had to watch himself moving in and out of her. But only for a second or two. If he watched any longer, he’d…

With his eyes shut tight and a desperate, near-silent gasp, Wesley came inside Nora.

He nearly collapsed on top of her from the force of the orgasm her body had wrenched from him.

“Father of Mercy,” Nora said, raising her head and wrapping her arms around him. She held him close to her and ran her hands through his hair. Her touch felt almost motherly then—the way she cradled him to her chest so he could hear her heart beating so wildly under his ear. Wildly…his Nora did have a wild heart. And he knew this one act with her hadn’t tamed it. Nothing would ever tame it, and for that he loved her even more.

“Are you praying? Is that a Catholic thing?” Wesley grinned against her skin as Nora stroked his hair and ran her fingernails lightly over his shoulders. He’d never felt anything like this before…this simple peace. Nothing felt wrong about this moment, nothing dirty or sinful, even as he lay on her with his body still embedded deep inside hers. “Praying after sex? I mean, making love?”

“Catholics tend to use the Lord’s name in vain whenever appropriate. Having a virgin come inside you so hard you feel it qualifies as an appropriate moment.”

Her words sounded hoarse and breathy, as if she’d been running or something equally absurd. He loved that he’d done that to her voice, changed the whole tenor of it. Already he wanted to do it again.

“You felt it?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. “And that takes some doing, kid. So congrats. That was borderline hurricane-force ejaculation.”

Wesley slapped a hand over his face and groaned. He slowly pulled out of her. If he could, he would have stayed inside her all night.

“I don’t think the heroines in the romance novels are supposed to say ‘hurricane-force ejaculation.’ Not that I’ve read a lot of them.”

Nora kissed the top of his head as she pried his hand off his face.

“Let me tell you a little secret...” She held him by the chin and turned his eyes up to her. “I’m no romance-novel heroine. I might even be the villain.”

“Good. The villains are more interesting than the heroes, anyway. And I don’t want to be anybody’s hero.”

She smiled at him and he saw something strange in her eyes, something that didn’t belong there—sadness.

“Talel’s horse got murdered today, and I have the evidence. And neither of us is doing a goddamn thing about it. Safe to say neither of us is the hero here.”

Nora kissed the top of his head and lay back down on the table. Wesley caressed her face, her lips, stroked the line of her body from neck to waist and back again. He grew hard simply from touching her, from watching the little smile on her face broaden even as she kept her eyes closed. Gathering her to him, Wesley pushed into her again. Nora wrapped her arms around his back and buried her head against his chest. There. Right there. That was where she belonged, safe in his arms. And he was where he belonged…inside her. Their lips met as he pushed slowly deeper and deeper.

Her words stung—neither one of them heroes. He had to be a hero for her. He wished the world still had dragons so he had something to slay for her. He ached to prove himself to her, to prove his worth. And if the death of Talel’s horse had hurt her, he would make it right. For her. For them.