She took her sweet time, almost as if she didn’t trust him, thinking that he might once again realise he’d overstepped a mark and that he would pull away like he had done last night. He didn’t break the kiss to assure her that wouldn’t happen. He sought to reassure her with his mouth and lips moving over hers, with his hands and arms pressing her closer to him. Maybe it was all of those things, or maybe it was his tongue, plundering the hot depths of her mouth, enticing hers into the dance, because suddenly, like a switch had gone off inside her, she kissed him back with a fervour that matched his own, her hands framing his face, pulling him deeper into a kiss that rocked his soul and that told him one thing—he hadn’t been wrong to kiss her last night. The only question in his head as her mouth opened hotly to his was why it had taken him so long to realise?
His hands skimmed down her sundress, relishing the feel of tight, toned skin beneath, cupping her buttocks and squeezing their ripeness. She groaned in his mouth as she arched her back, pressing her breasts and the hardened bullet points into his chest. Breasts that didn’t require any bra. Breasts he ached to release from their bodice. Breasts that had driven him crazy ever since he’d seen her in first her pyjamas and then that tiny bikini that had tied him up in knots.
And suddenly he couldn’t wait to see them anymore. He lifted her to his waist. She went with him, wrapping her legs around his torso, the action pulling her skirt up high, baring her legs. He groaned. He only had two hands, and two hands were nowhere near enough when he had this much going on around him. Smooth, slim legs, the sweet curve of a buttock. Everywhere his hands glided was filled with reward. But standing up was not where he wanted her now. He backed her into his bedroom, dropped to his knees by the bed, and folded her gently down onto it.
She looked shocked that he’d let her go, her eyes wild with surprise, desire and need. Until she realised where she’d been laid. A brief smile touched her lips. ‘Theo,’ she said, in that beguiling accent she had and that held an inherent promise that banished sense from his head and punched a hole in his heart at the same time.
He reefed off his shirt, got to his feet and shucked off shoes and pants. His erection sprang free and he witnessed the Princess’s eyes widen, looking hungrily at him.
‘I think I’m overdressed,’ she said, her voice husky. Shaky. Uncertain.
‘I’ll take care of that,’ he said, slipping off her shoes before sliding his hands up her legs, hooking fingers into her underwear, and tugging it slowly down. There was nothing for it then but for her sundress. He skimmed it up her thighs, then her waist, and slipped it over her breasts. She gasped, as if feeling the rush of cool air against her nipples, but lifted her head so he could fling the garment away.
And then he looked down at her, drinking her in with his eyes. ‘Perfection,’ he said, taking the time to drink in her petite hourglass figure. His cock bucked in agreement.
She held out her hands. ‘Please,’ she said, as if uncomfortable with his gaze. ‘Please.’ Okay, so she was relatively new to this, and maybe her lovers hadn’t taken the time to show their full appreciation. But then he wasn’t inclined to take his time now, not when she was so eager.
And it had been so long.
He didn’t want to think about how long. That time ceased to exist. He just wanted to live in this moment. He wanted to bury himself in her. Here. Now.
Bury himself in Isabella.
Except…Protection.He wasn’t carrying. He’d given that up years ago. He’d given up thinking he’d ever need it again. But he was sure he’d seen something discreetly positioned in the side table. He reefed open a drawer.Bingo.He pulled out a foil packet, tore it open with his teeth and sheathed himself.
Next time they could take their time, he told himself, as he lowered himself over her perfect body. Because he knew with the certainty of a man who had found a second chance at paradise that there would be a next time.
He kissed his way up her legs while she squirmed on the bed, her breath coming in heady gasps and mewls of surprise and delight as his lips made their way north, over her jutting hip bones and the slightest swell of her belly to her ribs. He kissed one tight bud of a nipple and then the other, before he circled it with his tongue, and drew her breast into his mouth. Her spine arched, forcing her breasts higher to meet him—to welcome the attentions of his hot mouth and to turn his attentions to her second breast.
His cock bucked, aching for completion, but it was no hardship filling his mouth with her second breast. Her skin tasted delicious. Of warmth and honey and that increasingly familiar citrus scent that suited her so well. That he would never forget.
And all the time her hands were in his hair, her nails raking his skull as she clung to him as he made his oral onslaught. When he found her mouth, she drank him in like she’d been trapped in the desert and he was the oasis, the water source, the life giver.
Little had he realised that it was she who was the life giver. Little by little, day by day, she was giving him back his life.
Laughter. Joy.
Hope.
Resting over her on one arm, he swept the other down the side of her torso to her hips, where his hand found her mound, his fingers separating her, sliding into the folds between her thighs. He was rewarded by her heat and slickness and the promise of magic.
His erection juddered against her belly at the knowledge. She shuddered and shifted one arm, and the next thing he knew was that she had taken hold of him with one hand, encircling him with her fingers and taking him to the limits of his control.
She groaned, a sound of need that fed and built his own. ‘Please,’ she cried, urgent and insistent and almost like she was pleading for her life. ‘Please!’
He was already primed to go off. Her touch only notched that up. And he knew that there was no more time. There was no more waiting.
Next time, he thought in what was left of his remaining brain cells, next time, they could take their time. Next time they could explore each other’s bodies at length, tease each other until they were both begging for release.
Next time.
But next time could wait. This time was now.
He positioned one knee between hers and she opened for him. Opened herself up for him. He found her core, found his place. He still wanted to take it as slow as he could. Wanted to preserve this perfect moment where his mouth was on hers, his arms cradling her head, her arms at his shoulders, clinging on, anxiously waiting.
The breathless moment before. The moment of anticipation where time stood still.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait a moment longer. His cock bucked one more time and his hips moved with it, pushing him, driving him into her. Except, in spite of her slickness that met his glans, there was no easy glide, instead he met resistance that made no sense. But then, it had been a while, he was rusty at this. And the resistance just made his thrusts work harder.
