Shock.
On many counts.
“What time is it?” Her words are drowsy.
“I’m not sure that’s going to matter for the next few days.” I reach for my phone anyway. I’ve been awake for hours but haven’t moved. I once heard someone say they’d rather cut off their numb arm than move their wife off it and disturb her.
Blair isn’t my wife, but I didn’t disturb her anyway. I wasn’t sure why.
“I feel like I need to do something.” She rolls off me, the sheets tangled around us. “But I don’t know where to start.”
There’s shit loads to be done. Not necessarily for her, but certainly on the security side. Spending the day in bed with her isn’t an option I have, but I don’t know who else she has.
“I think you have to look after yourself for now. Nothing’s going to be expected of you for weeks.”
I watch her look up at the ceiling. “I know. That’s what people will expect to see. A low profile. But I have choices to make.”
“Like what?” I know what the choices will be, at least some of them, but I don’t know which ones she’s thinking about.
“About whether I reject the role.”
That, I wasn’t expecting.
“And you don’t become queen?”
She nods, only slightly but definitely. “I haven’t been brought up to be any more than a princess. I’m not political. I don’t want to be political. Or a figurehead. And I do have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“I know.”
Blair sits up and the sheets pool around her waist, leaving her naked, her breasts exposed.
I shouldn’t touch her. I should never have started. I’m not destined for a princess or a queen. But then I’ve never done what I should.
My hand cups a breast, taking its weight. Her nipple hardens as I run my thumb over it. She’s never complained about the callouses or the roughness of my skin.
Her pupils widen, shoulders tip back. This is encouragement.
“I shouldn’t. I should be depriving myself of everything I enjoy because of Lennox.”
“Or doing what you need to get through it.” I pinch her nipple.
This is why I can’t walk away. I’m a bastard. I want to fuck her, I know I can make her feel better and I don’t give a shit about Lennox, only the mess that it’s left everyone in.
“I shouldn’t.” Her words are contradicted by the hand that’s gone to my cock.
I shift my other hand to her tits, cupping them both, squeezing them roughly. Blair needs a pinch of pain. She needs that rush before tenderness, the nip to feel alive.
My mouth finds her nipple, sucking and biting, pulling on it. Her hand has gone between her legs, playing with her clit and if she has her way, she’ll make herself come before I’ve fingered her.
I won’t let her get her way though.
“We need to talk.”
The words no man wants to hear when he’s harder than a diamond and can smell the scent of his woman’s arousal.
I pull away from her nipple.
