Chapter 16

Lola

He feels so good.

More than that, he makes me feel so good. Makes me feel beautiful. Desirable. Captivating. Necessary.

It’s quite the head trip for a girl who’s always been expendable, but then everything since I met this man—this prince—has been, so why should having sex with him be any different? Garrett is a walking contradiction and while I normally like a guy who is easy to figure out, he intrigues me as no one else ever has. Most of the time, he’s all calm, still waters, but the moment he touches me, the moment he puts those gorgeous lips of his on mine, I can’t help but realize just how deep he is. And just how much is going on under his surface.

There’s a part of me that wants to stop and poke around a little under the surface—I can’t help but remember the look on his face when he came out of that dream a little while ago—but as Garrett slides his mouth across my breast, as he takes my nipple in his mouth, I can’t do anything but moan. Can’t do anything but give myself over to the pleasure he gives me so easily. So unselfishly.

I arch my back and press closer. Revel in the heat streaking along my nerve endings, the pleasure sizzling inside my veins. Everywhere he touches, everywhere he kisses, is on fire and I want more. Need more. As much as I need to give him the same kind of pleasure in return.

I slide my hands under his shirt and up his chest, scratch my nails lightly over his skin, and relish the way his muscles go tight and his breathing grows quick and harsh. It’s my turn to play with his nipples, to flick my thumbnails across them and watch as his eyes go shadowed.

He growls low in his throat, and then his touch—and his mouth—turn rougher, darker. Flames lick their way from my nipples to my stomach, down my arms and legs, until they coalesce in the ache between my thighs.

“Garrett, please.” I rock against him, straining to get his hardness exactly where I need it. Desperate to have him inside of me. “Please.”

He laughs, then pulls his mouth away completely before blowing a soft, steady stream of air over my diamond-hard nipples. I grab his head in response, tangling my fingers in his soft, silky hair as I try to force his mouth back to my nipple.

“Don’t tease,” I plead, arching against him.

“Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to tease you.” He curls his tongue around my areola, sucking it into his mouth with a power so strong he has me gasping.

“Too much?” he demands, pulling back.

“No, no, no!” It’s a chant now, a plea, and with any other man I would be horrified at how close I am to begging. But with Garrett I don’t care—I can’t. Not when the pleasure he’s giving me is so intense, so all-consuming, that it’s all I can do to keep from coming before he’s even inside me.

“Take me.” It’s half command, half entreaty, and I don’t even care which one he hears. Any more than I care how hot and needy and overwhelmed I sound. Because I am all of those things, and all I can think about right now is getting Garrett inside me.

“I thought that’s what I was doing.”

My hips are lifting and lowering now, my nails digging into the taut muscles of his chest as I whimper and whisper dirty little pleas. Finally, my voice breaks as I gasp out, “Faster. Now. Please.”

“I’m a slow-and-steady kind of guy,” he tells me even as his hand slips between my thighs and inside my panties. “I don’t do fast.”

His thumb strokes over my clit, once, twice. And fuck. I come, just like that. Just that easily.

Ecstasy slams through me. For long seconds I can’t move, can’t think, can’t do anything but feel as wave after wave of sensation washes over me. Garrett takes me through it, lips sliding over my breast, hips arching under mine, thumb circling my clit, driving me higher and higher and higher until I come again, new pleasure ripping through me until I can’t tell where the first orgasm ended and the second began.

When I can finally think again, I lean down until I can press my mouth to his. “That was…” I trail off, lost in the sensations still sparking inside me.

“Just the beginning,” he tells me. His breath is hot against my cheek, his hair cool against my flushed skin. At least for a moment, then he’s squeezing my waist, coaxing me up and off him.

I start to roll onto my side so I can slip off my underwear and undo his pants and finally—finally—get him inside of me. But Garrett is having none of it. Instead of letting me do it, he slides his hands under my dress. He pauses for a minute on my ass, then squeezes my cheeks in his big, rough palms before ripping my panties clean off.

Holy shit.

I barely get my head around that when he’s pulling me back over him…and up. At first I don’t know what he’s getting at as he coaxes me up his abdomen and chest, so when it finally registers, I nearly fall right back off him and onto the bed.

But his hands are on my thighs now and he’s dragging me up, up, up, until my knees are on either side of his face and I’m holding onto the headboard to steady myself.

“You’re so beautiful, Lola. So unbelievably beautiful.” He inches his hands closer along my thighs, parts my labia with his thumbs. And then he just waits, breath hot against my sex, as he stares at me for long seconds.

I squirm a little—I can’t help it. No man has ever looked at this most private part of me and called me beautiful before. No man has ever made me shiver from just a look.

The realization makes me tremble all over again—well, that, and the sudden knowledge that I’m getting in way over my head here. It’s just a game, I remind myself. Just a little playacting to get Garrett back where he belongs—first in line to the throne of Wildemar. The fact that this thing between us suddenly feels so real, and worse, so earth-shattering, is all on me. After all, it’s not Gorgeous Garrett’s fault that he really is Prince Charming. It’s my fault for imagining, even for a second, that I could be Cinderella.

I shove the thought—and all of the other ones I don’t want to deal with—out of my head. And concentrate instead on how it feels to have Garrett beneath me. On what it will feel like to have Garrett inside me.

“I like these,” he murmurs, bringing me back to the present with a stroke of his fingers across the trio of red and pink cherry blossoms I have tattooed on my inner thigh. His mouth brushes against my skin, his tongue tracing the inky swirls.

“I got them when I—” My voice breaks as he swipes his tongue across my clit. Once, twice, then again and again.

It’s the best fucking feeling in the world, and it just keeps building with every second that passes. With each lick of his tongue. With each clasp of his hands. I just came twice, but I can feel the tension building again, my body growing more and more taut with every touch of Garrett’s skin against mine.

And when he moves forward, blowing one long, warm stream of air against my clit, I can’t do anything but call his name over and over again. I’m coming apart, my body more sensitive than it’s ever been…or maybe it’s just Garrett, who somehow knows exactly where and when and how to touch me.

“You’re amazing,” he tells me right before he delivers one long, slow lick along my sex. “So fucking responsive I could just—”

He breaks off when I scream, my hands clutching at his hair as flames rip through me and I climax one more time.