Page 53 of Princess

Tomorrow—or later this morning, depending on the time—Grant and I will get up before dawn and start on the trip to take the bunker back. I won’t be with him. Not in the same vehicle and not even on the same side of the camp.

He could die in a matter of hours, and I wouldn’t even be there to see it happen. I could die too, but that somehow matters less to me.

I’m still pained and exhausted and almost numb from the conversation we had in bed, but even that doesn’t matter as much as the thought of Grant dying later today.

In a lot of ways, he’s defined the shape of my life for the past five years. Even if he’ll never love me the way I need, I can’t stand the thought of him not being in the world anymore.

I shift in bed, feeling his big, warm body at my side. I hear him breathing. Slow and steady. Rhythmic. I reach over to rest my hand on his chest. He’s pushed the covers down to his waist so I can feel his bare skin. I find his heartbeat. Feel it slow and steady under my palm.

He’s asleep.

I sit up carefully, so as not to rouse him, and peer down in the darkness until my eyes begin to adjust. I still can’t see him clearly, but it’s enough. My hand is still lying on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

His body is relaxed. Warm. Human. Almost, almost vulnerable.

He wakes up with a sharp intake of breath. His body tenses up, and he immediately reaches down to where he keeps his gun right next to the bed.

“It’s just me,” I murmur, stroking his chest. His heartbeat has accelerated. He’s not asleep anymore. “It’s me.”

“What’s the matter, princess?” he asks, sleep still rough in his voice. “Y’okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Come back to sleep for a little while. It’s too early to get up.”

“I know.” I can’t help it. I lean down to nuzzle his neck, his scratchy jaw. My hand still covers his heart.

His breath hitches. One of his hands moves to slide down my back until he’s cupping my butt. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am.” I kiss the side of his mouth. His cheekbone. Just below his ear. I’m sprawled out on top of him now.

“Then what’s this about?”

I kiss him full on the lips. Then raise my head enough to say, “You could die today. And so could I. That’s what this is about.”

He makes a gravelly sound and claims my mouth again, tangling the fingers of his free hand into my messy hair. We kiss for a long time. His cock grows hard against my hip. He’s rocking beneath me, and I’m rubbing my breasts against his chest.

I really have no idea how much time has passed when I start to feel him pulling at my panties, yanking them past my bottom and down my legs. I move my knees to help him and fumble until I’ve drawn his erection out of his underwear.

“Straddle my hips,” he says breathlessly.

I make a whimpering sound because his instructions evoke a slice of intense pleasure. I lift myself up so we can work on getting his cock in position, and then I lower my hips down as he penetrates me.

I moan long and low as he fills me. I drop my head backward.

“Yes. Fuck, yes, you always feel so good.” He’s shifting restlessly beneath me, stretching his back and his neck. “Now ride me, princess.”

I do as he says, bracing myself with my hands on his shoulders and pumping my hips. I start slow and steady, but that rhythm doesn’t last long. I feel too much. Need too much. I chase it with my whole body, bouncing over him shamelessly until my hair flies into my face.

He’s making helpless, hungry sounds as I move over him. His hands are holding on to my butt cheeks so hard they might actually bruise. His grip helps to keep me in position, however, so his cock doesn’t slip out from our vigorous motion.

“Yes,” he mutters. I still can’t see him clearly, but I can tell he’s tossing his head like he can’t hold himself still. “Yes. Good girl. So good. Fuck me hard. Just like that. Take everything you want. Give me all of it.”

His erotic encouragement pushes me higher until I’m practically sobbing as I climax. He bucks up into me as my pussy clamps down, and he lets out a strangled bellow.

I think he’s going to come too, but he doesn’t. He hangs on enough to still be hard when I finally slow down, panting and pulsing with pleasure.

He finds my clit in the dark and rubs it until I’m arching backward and coming again while he murmurs about how good I am, how hot I am, how hard I’m coming, how no one else can come for him like I do. Either from his touch or his words, the orgasms keep coming until I finally can’t take anymore. I push his hand away and fall forward on his chest.

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