Page 50 of How to Resist Prince Charming

He clenched his teeth, trying to hold himself stiff. Then he looked at Lenna. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I am so sorry to unload on you like this. I—”

But she covered his mouth with her fingers.

“Shh,” she said. “Anytime.”

Braxton took her invitation to heart.

Anytime. For the rest of his life, he wanted to be able to turn to her any time and find her by his side. He cherished her supportiveness.

Smiling, he leaned in to kiss her. When she purred, he set his hand on her thigh. She still wore the same short, sexy skirt from the night before.

Just seeing it and remembering what was under there had him going hard.

“Lenna,” he murmured, his voice husky and full of heat.

She moaned and clasped his head in her hands. Taking that as invitation enough, he slid his fingers up. When he encountered her panties, he removed them.

“How do you always make me want you?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

Braxton couldn’t answer. The force of his attraction to her amazed him too.

She grasped the zipper on his jeans, and he grabbed her hips, lifted her onto his lap. “Ride me.”

A slight smile lit her lips as she opened his jeans and pulled him into her hand. “My, aren’t we bossy all of the sudden.” Braxton threw back his head and groaned when she stroked him.

“Now,” he said hoarsely.

She laughed. He knew it wasn’t the ‘please’ she’d been expecting, but at the moment, she didn’t seem to care. She rose and then came down over him, sheathing him snugly. They each sucked in a surprised breath. She was tight, so tight his vision went blurry.

God, she was as wet as a mouth. No foreplay, and he’d entered her without a bit of trouble.

“Oh, oh!” she gasped and lifted again, clenching around him as she glided out, almost to the point of pulling all the way off. Then she came back down in a rush, making them both cry out.

Braxton reached blindly and fisted his hands in her hair.

“Lenna,” he gasped. “Damn. You feel good.”

The woman was trying to kill him. He was absolutely dying here, a slow, frustrating, amazing death. All he wanted was speed and she was going slower than ketchup. He wanted that fast, sweaty slap of bodies and she was...

“Oh, holy hell.” He groaned, gripping her even tighter. This had to be the worst kind of torture ever.

“This is fun,” Lenna said, making him jerk his eyes to hers in disbelief.

She actually liked driving him out of his mind?

But, no. When Braxton took in her features, she looked too blissfully content to have any intentions of torment.

“I think I like being in charge,” she added, grinning as she continued with her slow, agonizing plunges.

Braxton wanted to tell her to pick it up. He wanted to grab her hips and take over. But he couldn’t nab the control from her. Besides, she looked too good, too satisfied, with the reins in her hands.

He let out an ironic laugh, thinking it funny he was so happy about suffering. And then it happened. One second he was chuckling, the next an orgasm wrenched a choked cry from his lungs without warning.

Completely blindsided, he hadn’t seen it coming, but there it was. Before he knew it, he was clutching Lenna’s waist and grinding her against him, losing himself inside her. Gritting out a string of curses, he filled her.

As the last swell shuddered through him, his muscles relaxed, and he sank onto the cushions of the couch. When he opened his eyes, Lenna rose above him, staring at him with a startled expression.

His parted his dry lips. “Sorry. Oh, God, Lenna. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I was that close. I didn’t mean to lose it like that. I just—”

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