Page 54 of Princess

He wraps me in his arms. Kisses me again. I’m so wet now that his cock slips out from my change in position, so he lifts my ass and pushes his shaft back in.

Then we’re rocking together as we kiss, his tongue setting the rhythm our bodies follow. He’s grunting into my mouth, still gripping my butt cheeks, guiding my motion and slowing me down.

Eventually I can no longer focus on the kiss, so I pull out of it. Our faces are only a few inches apart as we both build up toward climax with a fast, carnal rutting.

“Yes,” he forces out in a final, choppy gasp. “Yes. You’re… everything… to… me.”

I come again—from the words as much as anything else. And this time he’s right behind me, his whole body convulsing as he jerks up a few last times into my weight.

He pulls me down against him even tighter as I feel the spurts of his release inside me. My pussy is still fluttering all around him, and I can feel the throbbing of sensation in my nipples and my fingertips.

It’s taken so much out of me that I can’t move for a few minutes. I lay sprawled on top of him, my cheek against his shoulder as I gasp wetly.

He’s panting too—hot and breathless and limp. His hands gently stroke my tangled hair.

I want to say something, but there’s nothing I can think of to say. Nothing that embodies both our argument last night and our lovemaking just now.

I want him to say something too, but he doesn’t either.

We just lie together, holding each other until it’s time to get up.

* * *

Our plan to take back the bunker is too nuanced and complicated for me to fully wrap my mind around, but the rough strokes are basically this. Set up distractions on two sides of the camp to draw them out and confuse them. Then pick them off one by one in a series of assaults by small teams.

If Grant were deciding my role, I’d probably be responsible for one of the distractions since those are the safest positions. But I’m with Mack instead, so I’m part of one of the assault teams.

Five years ago, on that morning I spent waging social war with Melanie Brubaker, the idea of my being part of an actual attack would have made me laugh my head off.

The world has changed. Everything’s changed.

And I’ve changed with it.

I’m nervous and restless and trying not to think about Grant on the drive to the bunker. Mack is driving a pickup truck. I’m in the passenger seat, and Gail is in the back with a gun at the ready, just in case we encounter anyone.

“You scared?” Mack asks after a stretch of silence.

“Yes. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You’ll do great. You might look like a movie star, but I can tell you know what you’re doing.”

I smile up at him, genuinely surprised by his words. “I don’t look like a movie star.”

“Sure, you do. Why do you think everyone stares at you when you walk into a room?”

“People don’t stare at me.” I’m frowning now, focusing on a spot in the empty air as I think about what he’s said. “They don’t treat me different than anyone else.”

He laughs, low and warm and relaxed. “If you say so.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not that… that…” I trail off, mostly because I’m too embarrassed to get anything more coherent out.

“All I’m saying is, gorgeous as you are, I don’t envy Grant. Talk about pressure. It’s no wonder the poor guy is running himself ragged trying to keep you safe.”

My mouth is still turned down, but it’s mostly from the way my mind is racing to catch up. “In the bunker, he put out the word that I was off-limits. For dating or anything like that. We weren’t together or anything back then. He just wanted to keep everyone away from me.”

“I’m sure that sucked for you, but it wasn’t a bad idea. How would you have felt if you’d been hit on by one person after another—everywhere you went? Especially since there are a lot of guys who wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”

“That’s what he said.”

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