The Trouble With Princesses (25 page)

“Mein Gott,”
he cried. “Don’t stop.”

She waited, steadying herself again, deciding if she wanted to escape his grasp. But she didn’t. She liked this, far more than she supposed any proper princess ought.

But then when have I ever been a proper princess?

Smiling, she drew on him again, loving the sensation as he shook beneath her with unrestrained need. Taking more of him, she circled her tongue and sucked on him as his hips moved gently back and forth.

Suddenly his hold loosened, his fingers slipping from her hair. “Ariadne?”

She didn’t answer, not really able to form words at present. Then again he’d better assume she was the woman making love to him; otherwise he had some serious explaining to do.

His fingers curved around her head again, pulling her gently away. His shaft slid out of her mouth with a faint wet pop.

“I thought you were a dream.” His voice was hoarse, rough from sleep and lust.

“Surprise,” she murmured. “I’m not.”

“So I see.” He groaned again. “Or should I say, so I
feel
? Good Lord, Ariadne. You’ve half destroyed me.”

“Don’t you like it?” She frowned. She’d been enjoying herself, but maybe she’d done something wrong. Was that why he’d stopped her?

“Of course I like it! I’m hard as a pike and twice as thick. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“Then what is the matter? I thought it was going rather well.”

He stilled. “Did you?”

“Yes. I wasn’t finished, but if you want me to stop—”

“No, no. It’s only that some women . . . well, don’t care for . . . that.”

“Really?” She sat back on her haunches. “I find it . . . exhilarating.”

In fact, she felt quite wanton and achingly aroused.

“As you ought to know by now,” she told him, “I’m not
some
women.” Taking his erection in her hand again, she gave him a long, firm stroke that made him shudder. “I am me. Ariadne.”

He gazed at her, his eyes very blue even in the near dark. “Indeed you are. I shall be sure never to forget that again.” Lying back, he fisted his hands at his sides. “Pray continue.”

“Is that a command, Your Royal Highness? I could stop, if you prefer.” She slid her hand down to the base of his shaft again and gave him another pair of hard, pumping strokes.

A guttural groan sang from his throat, his hips flexing upward. “I don’t prefer, you teasing minx. Now take me between those sweet lips of yours or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Would I like your punishment?”

“Deny me and we’ll find out.”

A laugh trilled from her. “Perhaps another time.” Bending down, she did as she was ordered.

•   •   •

Rupert’s eyes rolled back in his head, as hot ripples of pleasure engulfed him. The warm, wet suction of her mouth was one of the most erotic sensations he’d ever known, and to think she was a novice at the act. Only imagine the miracles she might perform were she given more thorough training.

Clearly she was a natural.

He squeezed his fists tighter at his sides rather than reaching out to grip her head and force her to take him deeper. What pure bliss it would be to gently tup her mouth and show her how to bring him to completion that way.

But that was one lesson he would have to save for later. She needed more time and greater confidence before he introduced her to such intense intimacies. But, oh, my, how he was looking forward to expanding her education.

He trembled, the idea alone so arousing that he nearly released. Somehow he held back, wanting to prolong the encounter a while longer. Still, his shaft and balls ached with a fierce pain, his erection drawing even tighter when she slid her palms under his buttocks and flexed her nails into his flesh.

Hellfire, she’s going to kill me.

Honestly, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on; it was just too good.

Abruptly she stopped.

Disbelief radiated through him. Without thinking, he reached out to bring her back.

But she eluded his grasp, leaning away.

He was reaching for her again, determined not to let her escape him this time, when she crawled up and draped herself over his body. Taking his face between her palms, she crushed her lips to his and kissed him with a wild and unbridled passion.

“Make love to me, Rupert,” she whispered in his ear, as she scattered kisses over his face and neck.

“I thought that’s what we were doing?” he rasped. “Making love.”

She shook her head, her tousled hair brushing over his chest in a silky, shiver-inducing sweep. “No, I mean in all ways. I want you to take me, to make me yours completely.”

Take her virginity, she meant. Lord knows he wanted that too, would give nearly anything to be able to sink his length into her sheath and ride her long and deep.

But he shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“It’s too much of a risk.” Wrapping her long hair around his wrist, he drew her down for a frenzied, openmouthed kiss in which he showed her how much he wished he could change his mind.

Clearly understanding that he needed additional convincing, she glided her palms over his chest, stopping to flick her nails over his tight, flat nipples.

His moaned, blood coursing through him at the temperature of an inferno.

Christ,
he cursed. He should never have let her know how much he liked that. She had far too much power over him these days.

Dangerous levels of powerful and feminine persuasion.

“Please, Rupert,” she pleaded softly. “I need you.”

“You have me,” he grated. “I’m right here.”

“But I need you in me.” She brushed her lips over his, again and again.

Softly.

Seductively.

“All I could think after Selkirk kidnapped me was ‘What if he forces me? What if he steals my virginity when it ought to have been mine to give?’”

She caressed him with her hands as she scattered kisses over his skin, and they entwined their limbs like the lovers they already were.

“I want to give myself to the man of my choosing and I choose you. I want you to be my first. I understand the consequences and I’m ready. I don’t want to wait anymore. Not another day. Not another minute.”

He caught her in his arms and held her steady. “Do you? Do you really understand what you’re asking? I could get you with child, you know.”

“Doubtful. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and taking herbs. I’ve been assured they should prevent conception.”

“I won’t ask how you acquired these herbs, but nothing is foolproof. There’s always a risk.”

“It’s one I’ll take.
Please
, Rupert, don’t deny me. Don’t deny yourself any longer.”

When she put it that way, how could he refuse?

His throbbing, unsatisfied shaft agreed.
Take her,
his flesh urged.
Roll her over and thrust inside her. Do what you’ve been longing to do for weeks.

Maybe even longer, if he were honest with himself. How long had he wanted Ariadne? Longer than he wanted to admit.

But always in the past his duty had gotten in the way.

Yet here she was, offering herself. Literally begging him to claim the last of her innocence.

He should say no.

Yet how could he, when she was everything he craved? Everything he wanted?

And really, wasn’t it already too late? Hadn’t they crossed a Rubicon of sorts a long time ago? Hadn’t they been trying to deny their fate ever since? Perhaps this union between them was a kind of destiny, regardless of what might happen come the dawn.

She kissed him again and ran her hands through his hair, vulnerable and open, eager and trusting, curiously hesitant—almost like a bride.

He resisted her siren’s call for a few moments more, then cast caution aside and kissed her. Pressing her mouth wide, he claimed her with ardent intensity, thrusting his tongue in and out in deep, relentless strokes that demonstrated exactly what he meant to do to her body.

She moaned and did her best to match his pace, quaking with undisguised need as he compelled her to take more, to take all.

Reaching down, he grasped the hem of her nightgown and, in a deft movement, yanked it over her head. She was naked underneath, her skin as smooth as silk, rubbing against his own.

He shucked off his drawers, kicked them to the floor, then turned back to her, his erection stiff as a steel truncheon.

Pulling her beneath him, he fit himself between her thighs.

“Tell me you want this, Ariadne. Tell me you understand what this means and that there will be no regrets.”

“I want this,” she vowed. “I want you, unequivocally and without hesitation. How could I possibly regret what is to come when I know it will be so very right?”

“Never say I didn’t warn you.”

Then he kissed her again, stealing her breath and in turn his own.

Chapter Twenty-two

W
arn me? What is that supposed to mean?

But she didn’t have time to ponder the question further, as his mouth and hands began making forays over her body that drove her nearly mad.

“Let’s see how ready you are,” he murmured in her ear, darting his tongue briefly inside the tiny canal before pulling back to catch her earlobe between his teeth. She trembled as he licked it too, giving another little nip that made her arch and moan.

Her moan increased as he placed his hand between her thighs and slid a finger inside her moist folds. Her hands tightened on his back as he lightly stroked.

“You’re slick,” he said, “but not as much as you need to be. I shall have to see what I can do to remedy that.”

“Ah,”
she sighed. “Are you sure?” She shimmied against him. “I feel quite . . . moist.”

He chuckled. “Trust me. You’ll have a much better first time if you’re literally dripping when I take you.”

Her flesh contracted around his finger at that thought, her body dampening even more. But still apparently not enough.

“Offer your breasts to me,” he said.

“What?”

“Your breasts. Cup them in your hands and push them together. You always like it when I suck your nipples. I want to try it this way tonight.”

Ah, heavens
, he was going to have her ready in no time at all if he kept talking like this.

Trembling slightly, she did as he urged, holding herself up for him—quite literally offering her flesh for his delectation.

And feast he did, burying his face between her plumped breasts with sinful purpose. While he rubbed the faint whiskered roughness of his cheek against one peak, he drew on the other, hard then soft, using his tongue to press her nipple against his teeth before catching the aching nub for a long, circling lick.

With a small movement of his head, he reversed the process, rubbing her wet nipple against his other cheek while he began suckling forcefully on the first.

Back and forth he went, steadily building her need until she felt as if her flesh were on fire. Her mind grew dim, her body throbbing everywhere.

Her hunger intensified even more as he slid his finger higher inside her and began rubbing a spot that made her squirm and shake and moan, as if she might fly apart.

She didn’t know how much more she could take. She was teetering on a razor’s edge, craving release with a need that approached desperation. Yet every time she came close to claiming her pleasure, he would ease off, as if he knew exactly how near she was and was determined to deny her.

He was a devil, increasing her torment with every lick and draw and stroke.

Hades above, I can’t bear it!

“Please,” she begged, too far gone to care about such petty matters as pride. “Please, let me. I need to take my release.”

“Not yet,” he told her, lifting his head briefly from her pleasure-swollen breasts. “Not until I’ve got you so wet and randy you’d promise me your very soul.”

So he was purposely torturing her! She ought to have been angered by his arrogant admission, but she was too deep in his thrall to care, knowing he was the only means of putting an end to her suffering. The only way she would find her bliss.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered roughly.

With blind obedience, she did as he commanded, giving him greater access to her most vulnerable feminine flesh. She nearly sobbed aloud when he pulled his finger out of her, insane with disbelief that he would stop. But before she could voice a protest, he slid gently in again, only this time using two fingers.

Her back arched, unintentionally forcing him deeper. Her hands fell away from her breasts, shaking so much she couldn’t hold on any longer. Her arms fell to her sides on the bed.

A tiny slice of pain shot through her core as he delved higher, then withdrew again. He stroked in and out, then one time more before pausing in midstroke to scissor his fingers wide.

“Oh!” she cried, the pain sharper.

“Trust me,” he whispered again. “This will make it easier.”

Losing her maidenhead, did he mean?

Suddenly she remembered how large and stiff his shaft was, how thick he’d felt in her mouth earlier when she’d been pleasuring him. And now he was preparing her to accept him, to accept his hard, male flesh inside her.

Then she couldn’t think again, his movements focusing all her attention to that one spot where he continued to spread his fingers open and closed. Then he rubbed her again in just the right way, reigniting her most profound pleasure.

He took her mouth with his again, leaning up to claim her in rich, seductive draughts that she returned with dazed, heated fervor.

Truly, she would have let him do anything in that moment, her senses so heightened and on edge that he controlled her completely. And still he would not let her take her release, building her again until moisture gathered in her eyes.

Suddenly he pulled his hand away and settled his hips more fully between her thighs. Spreading her wider still with a hand, he positioned his shaft and thrust inside.

But he didn’t get far, even she could tell that, only his tip lodged within her.

“God, you’re tight,” he said between clenched teeth. “I knew you would be, but you’re even smaller than I thought.”