Page 85 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
He froze, his dazed eyes focusing on my face. “Rick? Are you okay? Do we need to stop?”
I forced my breathing to even out and looked up into his blue eyes. “I—it’s not that I want to stopcompletely—but I—I’m not ready—we talked about—”
His confusion cleared and he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I’m not going to push you into anything you don’t want to do.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For ruining the mood—”
He chuckled and kissed the edge of my jaw. “Don’t worry about that. We can get the mood back on track. Do you have lube?”
I nodded hurriedly and fumbled in my nightstand until I pulled out a bottle. We undressed the rest of the way in silence. Despite what he said, I wasn’t sure our night could recover.
Until he kissed the back of my neck. The light brush of his lips sent a shiver of pure want all through me. His fingers trailed over my hip and my stomach clenched in anticipation. If he didn’t touch me now, I really might perish.
He drew little designs all the way up my side. I desperately wantedto tell him he was going in thewrong damn directionbut could only articulate a low, strangled groan.
Chuckling, he pushed me back onto the bed. He clasped one of my wrists and raised it to the headboard, ordering, “Don’t let go or I’ll tie you to it.” I had started to follow his instructions but paused after the threat.
He arched an eyebrow and said, “If I have to tie you up, this will take longer.”
I grabbed one of the iron bars and clutched it until my hand ached.
“Good boy,” he murmured and leaned down to kiss me for a reward. I closed my eyes and savored the taste of him. Mingling with the strawberry scent of the lube, the kiss was almost unbearably sweet, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
He pulled away and I bit back any protests. The bed shifted, and I opened my eyes to watch him. My prone position didn’t provide a good view. I could see one arm near my shoulder, the muscles strained as he supported himself. The other was behind his back.
From the wet sounds and look on his face—half concentration, half pleasure—I could guess what he was doing, butgods,I wanted to see it. Without thinking, I released the headboard and reached for him.
He immediately stopped, his lips pursing in displeasure. “And you’d been doing so well.”
I grabbed the headboard again and swallowed thickly. “I want to touch you,” I explained, a subtle request for permission.
To my surprise, he agreed, shifting positions so that he hovered above me, one hand still supporting him on the bed, the other grabbing the top of the headboard. “You may use one hand.”
If I rushed this, who knew what he would do. A little shiver of anticipation thrummed through me. I’d probably like the punishment, but I’d like the reward a lot better. I slid my hand up his thigh, tracing the sturdy muscles, and then caressed the tight globe of one cheek. When I finally reached his hole, two fingers slid easily inside thanks to the lube.
I watched his face while I stretched him, eager for every little sign of pleasure—a sharper intake of breath, closed eyes, parted lips.
“Stop,” he ordered.
I lingered a moment too long. He grabbed my wrist and forced it back up to the headboard, keeping me pinned. He leaned down and bit first my lips, then my earlobe, and finally my neck, a slew of minor punishments.
Sitting up straight, he looked down at me, his expression amused and a little haughty. “Stay just like that.”
Unable to deny him, I could only watch, holding my breath as he positioned himself above me. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he touched my cock—stroking it slowly, ensuring he had my full attention when I already felt ready to burst at the seams—and lowered himself onto it.
The second I felt him surrounding me, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I released the headboard, ignoring his gasped protest as I grabbed his hips and surged up to meet him. He didn’t stop me or give me any other orders, instead meeting me thrust for thrust, our gasps and moans mingling together until I couldn’t tell whose voice was whose.
Wound tighter than I’d ever been before, it didn’t take long for me to feel ready to explode. Unsure if he wanted me to come inside, I gave him a stilted warning between panted breaths, “Almost … there.”
I didn’t expect him to pull my hands off his hips and slam them back onto the bed. I stared up at him, dazed and confused, my hips straining up to meet him even as he pulled away. My cock throbbed angrily at being denied climax.
“You moved without my permission,” he said, an edge in his sultry voice, like he wasn’t completely sure of his lines. He shifted, no longer straddling me, but sitting to one side. “Turn over.”
I hesitated, my gaze flicking nervously to his straining erection.
His expression softened and he leaned down to kiss me. “I won’t put it in,” he assured me in a gentle whisper. “But if at any point you want me to stop, just say the word. Or call me a pest if that’s shorter,” he teased and kissed my neck.
I swallowed and nodded before rolling over onto my stomach. His hands trailed over my shoulders and back as he positioned himself behind me. Not being able to see what he was doing was thrilling and a little bit terrifying. I’d never allowed myself to be blindfolded before, but I imagined it provided the same feeling.
