Page 111 of The Thing About My Prince
“Wipe off that sexy pink lipstick.”
Without giving it a second thought, I do exactly as he asks, a tremor in my hands as my pulse races.
“Now take your knickers off.”
My breath hitches at his words, which he might as well have said right on my clit for how they make it throb.
Holy shit, this is hot.
I reach under my dress and pull down my panties. All my nerve endings are so heightened that the brush of the fabric down my legs makes my whole body tingle.
I stumble a little as I hook them over my heels but manage to gather my balance and straighten.
“Done?” He’s now close enough for his breath to brush my face and for the hint of fresh sweat on his skin to fill my nostrils.
“Yes.” I shove my underwear and the tissue into my purse, but the stupid tiny thing won’t close.
“Excellent.” His voice is deep and has the sexiest gravel toit. “Because I can’t bear the thought of us wasting a single second of the short time we have together.”
“I was thinking that too.”
Then his lips press against mine. Firm. Needy.
I toss my purse toward the dresser, but thethunkonto the floor means I missed.
Whatever. My hands are free to wrap around Oliver’s neck, and that’s all that matters.
He bends his knees a little to dip his hand under the hem of my dress.
Before he’s even made contact with my skin, my lungs release a heavy breath into his mouth.
Then he wraps his hands around my outer thighs and slides them all the way up to my bare ass, turning my skin into a carpet of humming need.
He gives my butt a firm squeeze as his tongue slides against mine, and my clit vibrates with desperation for attention. I don’t think I have ever been this turned on in my whole life, and I never would have guessed it would happen in the back room of a Scottish church with the king and queen outside.
Oliver pulls me hard against himself, but his sporran hits me in the lower belly.
“Fuck that thing.” He backs off a little, kissing a line down my neck as he squeezes my breast through my dress and massages my ass.
Then he drops to his knees.
He drops to his goddamn knees, and I’m about ready to fucking explode.
“Oh God, Oliver. What if someone comes in?”
“They won’t.” He lifts my dress. “But we can’t be gone for too long.”
“If you feel anything like I do, we’re not going to need long.”
The last word is barely out of my mouth when he laps gently at my clit.
“Fuck, you’re delicious.” He tugs at my thighs to part them more, and I shift to let him.
At the stroke of his finger at my entrance, my arms fly out to my sides, reaching for something to hold onto, something to keep me upright. One hand finds the back of the chair.
“This is the wettest I’ve known you.” His breath is hot against the most sensitive part of me. “Does the forbidden location do it for you?”
Maybe a little, but mainly it’s him. It’s this specific man. I can’t imagine anyone else ever making me feel as alive, as wired, as I do right now.
