Page 38 of Princess

A little, but not much. And the ache is so, so good. “This is how I want it. Please.”

He starts to pump his hips, slow and rhythmic for a minute, but he can’t sustain that pace for long. Soon he’s rutting like an animal, pushing into me so hard I can barely brace my body. He’s grunting loud with every instroke, and I’m muffling my helpless cries into the mattress.

It feels like he’s going to come at any moment. He can’t last very long like this. I’m not quite there yet, but I don’t even mind. I love the way he’s about to lose control.

From me. From fucking me. Such a strong, reserved man about to completely lose it over me.

He makes a long, stretched sound and lets go of my butt cheek, which he’s been holding in a bruising grip. Then he smacks the side of my bottom with his palm, making a sharp slapping sound.

The unexpected sensation of the spank pushes me immediately into orgasm. I come in an intense rush just before he yanks his cock out. He comes in hard spurts on my back and bottom, making rough, broken noises that don’t quite form words.

We both collapse back into the bed, wet and messy and boneless and exhausted. After a few minutes, he’s collected himself enough to gather me back into a loose hug. “Y’okay?” he rasps, the same way he asked me before.

“Yeah. Better now. I needed that.”

He pauses before he admits, “Me too.”

I burrow close to him, finally feeling sated, like what I craved has been answered.

It doesn’t really make sense to want that kind of sex right now. I should want gentleness. Softness. Comfort. Not rough sex in the dark with no romantic words or tender caresses.

With a man who’s never once admitted he cares for me even a little.

But he gave me what I needed tonight. He’s never not been there when I need him.

Maybe it doesn’t matter if he loves me or not. Maybe that’s not the world we live in anymore, and maybe it’s naive to want or expect it.

Maybe none of that means what it used to.

I do realize one thing as I lie against his warm, relaxed body and listen to his heavy breathing.

Things might change tomorrow. Or the day after. Or a week from now.

But, at this moment, all I have left in the world is him.

7

When I wakeup later that morning, the world feels strange and almost painfully bright.

I’m not disoriented. I know exactly where I am, and I remember everything that happened yesterday. But something is off. Wrong. Uncomfortable.

After I pry my eyes open, I realize what must have woken me up. Grant has just walked into the tiny room we’re sharing. He’s fully dressed in the clothes he wore yesterday, and he smells like dirt and grass and sun.

Sun.

That’s why the world feels so weird right now. It’s late in the morning, and I normally get up at dawn.

“What time is it?” I ask in a croaky voice. It’s like my voice has forgotten how to work.

“Eight thirty or nine, I’d guess.”

Not since vacation days in high school have I slept in so late. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s late! How long have you been up?”

He gives a brief shrug. “Few hours. You feel okay?”

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