Page 91 of Prince Charming

“Ready to feel me, darlin’?”

Oh, yes. She nodded frantically, her thighs churning together, and he grinned at her eagerness. She slid her arms around his waist and pulled him down.

They both groaned together.

Oh, wow. He felt amazing.

Hard, weighty, yet she could breathe fine.

Ah, god. It would feel nice to sleep with him exactly this way. Pinned and safe under a mountain.

Tag gave one lazy drive between her legs, hitting her soft place with his hardness, and she almost came. Her neck arched back on the pillow, she gripped the hem of his shirt in her two fists, groaning low. He chuckled and pressed his face into her neck. “Like that?”

“Da. So much. More, please.”

“Let’s see how fast I can dry fuck you into pouring a climax.”

Arms braced up by her head, breathing the same air, he dry humped between her legs better than any sex Marianna ever had before.

She panted and grabbed him all over.

Tag grunted and sucked hard on her neck.

It was building for them both.

And then his phone blew up.

It went on and on, beeping maniacally.

“Goddammit. I gotta shut this thing up.” He groaned, rolling off her so he could fish it out from his back pocket. “Fuck’s sake.” Regret in his eyes after reading the screen. She wasn’t so drunk that she knew this had ended.

“What is it?”

“There’s some trouble with Dix I gotta go take care of.”

Air left her lungs, and she felt the disappointment coming off him in waves. Crawling up to her knees, she rested her chin on his shoulder. “Go get cleaned up first.”

“Sorry, darlin’.”

“There’s no need for apologies. I will shower and curl up to watch TV, if that’s okay?”

“I want you in this bed when I get home.”

Heat filled her stomach. She smiled, accepting his fast kiss.

He cleaned up and then she walked him to the door where he kissed her again, letting her know he wouldn’t be gone long. Standing on his doorstep, snow falling slowly as he rode off up the street.

Whatever had interrupted them—fate, or coincidence, she didn’t know if she were happy or annoyed by it.

Marianna took a long shower, pulling one of his t-shirts on, she curled up in his bed. He wasn’t home by 2 a.m. when she woke to video call with the kids who were just waking up. He wasn’t home when she crawled back into bed, but warm arms came around her an hour or more later. Her rattled heart settled into a steady thump.

“Mmm. Glad you’re home. Merry Christmas, Luke.” She murmured.

Lips touched the back of her neck, his body plastered to hers from top to toe, his knee wedged between her thighs.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

“Is everything okay?”

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