Page 78 of The Prince of Power

And hard.

“Do you feel this?” he murmurs. “I’ve never had to wait this long. When I can finally fuck you, I won’t let you out of my bed.”

My body grows taut, and I lick my lips.

He strokes my cheek with his fingers. “You want this too, don’t you?”

I nod, hating myself for it. I ought to slap that smug expression from his face.

But my body is alive, and after days of feeling nothing, I’ll take anything that reminds me I still exist.

He kisses me again, and his thumb trails along the outline of my nipple. I let out a whimper. He must like the sound, because he groans, and it makes his whole body vibrate. “You were a naughty girl pouring that wine over my head. This will be for me, not you.”

Damian twists, pinning me underneath him as water splashes around us. The dark wine is still dripping down his face. He doesn’t seem to care. He slips his hand into my soaking wet pajama pants, and my whole body turns to jelly.

“Time to finish what I started.”

His fingertips glide over my clit, sending sparks throughout my body. I arch my back, pushing myself against his hand. His heart is pounding against my chest.

“Has a man touched you like this before? Besides me, I mean.”

I shake my head.

His eyelids grow heavy as he growls, “And no one will again. Only me. Is this how you like it?”

I nod, and his movements grow more rapid. “Yes,” he purrs. “You do this to yourself. At night. When no one but you knows. Don’t you, pretty girl?”

I nod again, dazed by the electricity shooting to my core at the touch of his skilled fingers.

“That’s right,” he whispers, his voice thick. “You touch yourself thinking about me.”

My whole body tingles. Do I?

Yes.

Not at first. No, at first, I go through my usual rotation of fantasies. A faceless man pinning me against a wall, pulling upmy dress. Being crushed against a bed by a huge body. Tame fantasies.

But as my arousal grows, Damian’s face appears. His deep voice rumbles through my body, as real as if he were there in the dark with me.

“Yes.” His voice is a rasp now. “Tell me what I do to you.”

I shake my head, and he laughs. It’s a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through the room. His hand grows still, and I whimper, lifting my hips and grinding against his hand.

“No, baby girl.” There’s a smile in his voice. “Tell me what I do to you, and I’ll reward you.

I moan. “You talk… You say things. Dirty things.”

He inhales sharply. He probably didn’t think I would actually say it.

I didn’t either.

His fingers resume their pace, and a delightful pressure builds in my tummy, ready to burst.

“Do I tell you that I’ve wanted to kiss your cunt since the moment I laid eyes on you? That I know it will taste as sweet as you?”

My hips jerk against his hand of their own will. No, he’s never said that. It’s too specific.

Too delicious.

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