Page 173 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

I assume River will too, but instead, he mutters, “What do you think it’s like?”

I tilt my head toward him, my brows pulling together. “What is what is like?” I notice the direction of his stare is on the couple who are now tangled together in a heated makeout session.

He rakes his teeth along his bottom lip as his gaze falls to his wrist, where he’s fiddling with his watch band, something he does frequently. “To just kiss someone without feeling the pressure of obligation.”

“It’s probably nice,” I say quietly. “To be honest, I haven’t really made out with a ton of people, so I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

His gaze elevates to me then, question marks flooding his eyes. “I know you said you don’t date, but has there ever been someone who’s almost made you reconsider that?”

Dammit, I don’t like that question. It makes me squirm.

I rub my eye, mostly as an excuse to look away from him when I confess, “You, obviously, since you’re the only guy I’ve ever made out with. I mean, in like a real makeout session.” I could’ve lied, but that’s never been my style, unless I’m trying to get out of trouble.

Silence stretches between, and then I feel his fingers brush through my hair. Why does it have to be like this? Why does he have to be a royal? A betrothed royal?

Why do I have to want him so badly?

My heart pumps fiercely, sending desire through my veins. I haven’t ever felt this way before, and I know before I even turn my head that I’m about to do something stupid. I just don’t care.

Without warning, I seal my lips to his.

He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose before slipping his fingers around to cup the back of my head. Then he parts my lips with his tongue and devours me, tugging on my hair and tipping my head back.

I bite back a groan but slide my leg over his lap. A breath falters from his lips as he pulls back, leaving a sliver of an inch between our mouths.

“Are you okay with this?” he whispers.

I nod, and then he kisses me before I can even decipher the meaning behind my willingness to kiss him.

We continue to kiss for the entire drive with my leg hitched over his lap. Every so often, his hand lands on my leg, and he’ll brush his fingers along the outside of my thigh. Sometimes he places his palm on my side, and his thumb grazes across the spot of flesh peeking out between the hem of my shirt and the waistband of my jeans. My skin erupts with tingles every time he does it, and this throbbing need begins to build inside my body, slowly at first, but it swells into something agonizing the longer he continues to touch me and explore me with his lips.

The feeling becomes so overwhelming that I break the connection of our lips. My lungs heave as I struggle to get oxygen in them.

River rests his forehead against mine, breathing as heavily. “Is it too much?”

“No and yes,” I whisper, highly aware that one of my hands is cupping the side of his neck and the other his wound-free side. “I just … I’m …” I grimace at my nervousness. I hate feeling this way, so screw it. I’ll say how it is. “I’m feeling about one step away from going to that place I went to when we made out on your sofa.”

A crease forms between his brows. ”What?”

I sigh heavily. “I’m getting too turned on.”

An older guy sitting in a seat across from us glances at me, a creepy grin curling at his lips.

River glares at him. “Stop fucking looking at her.”

As sweet as River is, he looks intense, and that’s enough to get the man to look away.

“Pervert,” River mumbles, looking back at me. I smile, and he frowns puzzledly. “Why are you smiling?”

“No reason.” I shrug, my smile still lighting up my face. “I’ve just never had anyone stand up for me before. I usually do it myself. Although, I don’t always get that kind of compliant response.”

His frown deepens. “I don’t like that you’ve had to deal with that.”

“I don’t either,” I agree. “But we both have our own issues we’ve had to deal with. They’re just on vastly different ends.”

The reminder of his impending arranged marriage rises between us like a thorny weed. But River chooses to diffuse this, slanting forward until his lips are brushing the shell of my ear.

“I turn you on too much, huh?” He sounds equal parts amused and nervous, I think because the subject is a bit new to him.

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