I don’t think I’ve ever felt this completely satisfied before. Strolling out of the VIP room, I can’t keep the smirk off my face. Sapphire was incredible. So much better than any woman I’ve ever been with in my life.

So hot, so sexy, a total wild thing coming apart in my hands.

Her screams of ecstasy are still ringing in my ears as I make my way across the club.

“Yo, Derek!”

I turn and find that a couple of my friends are still here, girls draped all over them.

“Dude, the place is about to close,” one of them calls. “Hope you got some.”

I grin, sure that it’s written all over my face. I got way more than any of those jokers, that’s for damn sure.

“Don’t you want to know.” I stop at the table, not really wanting to talk to anyone. Just wanting to keep reliving this night in my head over and over.

A stripper moves from my friend’s lap and walks toward me, her heavy-lidded eyes full of desire. She taps my chin with a manicured nail. “I can take care of you if you want to leave satisfied.”

I move away from her, not even looking at her as I say, “More than satisfied, thanks.”

She pouts, and I look past her, tipping my chin at my boys as I turn to leave. “Catch you later.”

The cocktail waitress from earlier stops me as I’m almost to the door. “Anything else I can get for you tonight?” she purrs, her voice heavy with meaning.

I shake my head, pushing past her. “I’m good.”

More than good. I’m fucking great. Perfect, really. And for the first time I can remember—probably forever—I can’t get my mind off the woman I just fucked.

What the hell does that even mean? I don’t even know.

I step outside and walk to my limo, still parked right out front. Yet another perk of being a prince; no waiting around when I’m ready to go. Sinking into the leather seats, I tell my driver to take me home.

He looks a little surprised that I’m alone. But what the fuck am I going to do? Grab some slut and fuck her in the limo while I still have the smell of Sapphire all over me? Hell no. Even though I might've before. But after Sapphire? I can’t even.

Shit, she was so fucking wet, cumming all over me, that I’m sure my cock is coated in her scent. My cock twitches with the thought.

I shove my hand in my pocket and finger the lacy thong she gave me, a cocky grin spreading across my lips. The fact I got her number has me reeling.

What, you think I have a phone full of hot chicks at the ready? I could if I wanted to. But I don’t. It’s not fucking necessary. I don’t fuck the same pussy twice, and if I want to get some, all I have to do is step out my door. They’re always there begging, everywhere I go.

But I got her number. No fucking way was I leaving without it. For the first time ever, I want to go back for more. I will go back for more. Because a taste of her wasn’t enough. It’s like she seeped into my blood tonight, a drug that I’m hooked on instantly, unable to think of anything but my next fix.

The limo pulls up to One57, and I jump out and head for the elevators leading up to my penthouse. Nothing but the best for the billionaire Prince of St. Albans.

When I walk through my door, I barely register the multi-million-dollar view through the glass that completely encases my apartment, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on Manhattan as if it’s my own personal kingdom. Practically is. Tonight I don’t give a fuck.

All I want to do is lose myself in my memories of Sapphire and that perfect pussy. That perfect body. Every fucking thing about her is pure perfection.

What does it mean that I can’t get her out of my head?

I don’t know how to handle what’s going on with me. First I talk to her like she’s more than just a quick fuck, then I get her number, and now I’m desperate to be back inside her.

Not once in my life has this happened before.

I pace the length of my condo, bracing my hands on the glass that looks out over Central Park, but all I see is her. That body writhing in pleasure. That face lost in the moment, my cock buried so deep inside of her.

I groan, rock-hard from just the memory. I’m too keyed up to sleep, so I push away from the window and stride to my bar to make a drink. Just as I lift it to my lips, my phone rings.

I pull it out of my pocket in a frenzy, hoping it’s her. But fuck, she didn’t get my number. I just have hers.

When I see the name and picture on the screen, I want to hurl the damn thing across the room.

Melissa.

Why the fuck will she not stop calling me? It’s been over a year, and she still thinks things are going to work out. She’s the absolute worst of all the clingy, desperate women wanting a piece of me, and I never ever fucked her.

As part of the Court of St. Albans, she’s one of the few eligible women my father picked out for me to marry. I grind my teeth at the thought. No fucking way will I marry her. Ever. She’s needy and manipulative. A total bitch.

Always pissy because I won’t fuck her. So certain she could sink her claws into me if I did, thinking that would guarantee her place by my side. All she wants is to be the princess. Just like all the rest.

That’s why they’re all so expendable. No need keeping them around for more than one good fuck when all they really want is a way in. A ticket to the good life.

I silence my phone and toss it aside. Not wanting to let her ruin my mood, I pull Sapphire’s thong from my pocket, fingering the delicate lace.

She’s different. She seemed genuinely interested in me. Asking questions like she actually cared. And she doesn’t have a clue who I am.

A smile tugs at my mouth. I can’t wait to see her again. Lifting the thong to my nose, I breathe in deeply, inhaling her scent.

The perfect aroma of sweetness and sex, her scent sinks into my bones and I sigh.

I miss her already.