Princess's Pregnancy Secret

‘Can what?’ he challenged, arching an eyebrow. ‘What can you do...?’

She tilted her chin and reached up on tiptoe to brush her lips over his. Sensation shivered through her. This was right. This was it.

He stiffened, then took complete control. He gripped her waist and hauled her close, slamming her body into his. She felt the give of her stupid dress again. She didn’t mind the half-laugh that heated her.

‘You can do that,’ he muttered, a heated tease as he kissed her with those torturous light kisses until she moaned in frustration. ‘You can do that all you like.’

She did like. She liked it a lot.

Kisses. Nothing wrong with kisses. Her bodice fluttered down again, exposing her to him. Thank goodness. His hands took advantage, then his mouth. The drive for more overwhelmed her. Never had she felt so alive. Or so good.

She gasped when he lifted her, but she didn’t resist, didn’t complain. He strode a couple of paces to sit on the sofa, crushing her close then settling her astride his lap.

She shivered in delight as he kissed her again. She could die in these kisses. She met every one, mimicking, learning, becoming braver. Becoming unbearably aroused. Breathless, she lost all sense of time—could only succumb to the sensation as his hand swept down her body, down her legs. Slowly he drew up the hem of her dress. His fingertips stroked up her hot skin until he neared that most private part of her. She shivered and he lifted his head, looking deep into her eyes. She knew he was seeking permission. She wriggled ever so slightly to let him have greater access because this felt too good to stop. Still watching her, he slid his hand higher.

‘Kiss me again,’ she whispered.

Something flared in his eyes. And kiss her he did, but not on her mouth. He bent lower, drawing her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth while at the same time his fingertips erotically teased over the crotch of her panties.

Eleni gasped and writhed—seeking both respite from the torment, and more of it. No one had touched her so intimately. And, heaven have mercy, she liked it.

She caught a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. She didn’t recognise the woman with that man bending to her bared breasts. This was one stranger doing deliciously naughty things with another stranger—kissing and rubbing and touching and sliding. Beneath her, his hard length pressed against his suit pants. It fascinated her. The devilish ache to explore him more overtook her. She rocked against his hand, shivering with forbidden delight. She was so close to something, but she was cautious. He pulled back for a second and studied her expression. She clenched her jaw. She didn’t want him to stop.

‘Take what you want,’ he urged softly. ‘Whatever you want.’

‘I...’

‘Anything,’ he muttered. ‘As much or as little as you like.’

Because he wanted this too. She felt the tremble in his fingers and it gave her confidence. Somehow she knew he was as taken aback as she by this conflagration. She might not have the experience, but she had the intuition to understand this was physical passion at its strongest.

Her legs quivered but she let him slide the satin skirt of her dress higher. It glided all the way up to her waist, exposing her almost completely. Her legs were bared, her chest, only her middle was covered in a swathe of blue. She sighed helplessly as that hard ridge of him pressed where she was aching most.

She struggled to unfasten his shirt buttons; she wanted to see his skin. To feel it. He helped her, pulling the halves of his shirt apart. For a moment she just stared. She’d known he was strong, she’d felt that. But the definition of his tense muscles—the pecs, the abs—still took her by surprise. The light scattering of hair added to the perfection. He was the ultimate specimen of masculinity. She raised her gaze, meeting the fire in his, and understood the strength he was holding in check.

‘Touch all you like,’ he muttered, a guttural command.

She liked it all. Suddenly stupidly nervous, she pressed her palm over his chest—feeling the hardness and heat of him. But she could feel the thump of his heart too and somehow that grounded her. She read the desire in his eyes, intuitively understanding how leashed his passion was. That he, like she, wanted it all.

‘Touch me,’ she choked. Her command—and his reply—dislodged the last brick in the wall that had been damming her desire inside. She did not want him to hold back with her.

He caressed her breasts with his hands, teasing her as she rocked on him, rubbing in the way the basic instinct of her body dictated—back and forth and around.

‘So good,’ she muttered, savouring the pressure of his mouth, the sweep of his hands, the hardness of him under her. ‘So good.’

It was so foreign. So delicious. Feverish with desire, she arched. Pleasure beyond imagination engulfed her as faster they moved together. Kisses became ravenous. Hands swept hard over skin. Heat consumed her. She moaned, her head falling back as he touched her in places she’d never been touched. As he brought her sensuality to life.

She heard a tearing sound and realised it had been the crotch of her panties. They’d not survived the strength of his grip. She glanced and saw he’d tossed the remnants of white silk and lace onto the wide seat. Now she could feel his hand touching her again so much more intimately.

‘Oh.’

She dragged in a searing breath and gazed into his eyes.

‘That’s it, Blue,’ he enticed her in that devilish whisper. ‘Come on.’

She couldn’t answer—not as his fingers circled, and slipped along the slick cleft of her sex, not as they teased that sensitive nub over and over and over. She bit her lip as that searing tension deep in her belly tightened. She rocked, her rhythm matching the pace of his fingers as they strummed over and around her. He kissed her, his tongue soothing the indent of her teeth on her lip, then stroking inside her mouth in an intimate exploration of her private space. Just as his finger probed within her too.

She tore her mouth from his and threw her head back, arching in agony as she gasped for breath. He fixed his mouth on her breast, drawing her nipple in deep. Pleasure shot from one sensitive point to another, rolling in violent waves across her body. She shuddered in exquisite agony, crying out as she was completely lost to this raw, writhing bliss.

When she opened her eyes she saw he was watching her, his hand gently stroking her thigh.

She breathed out, summoning calm and failing. Giddy, she gazed at him, stunned by the realisation that she’d just had an orgasm. She’d let him touch her and kiss her and he’d made the most amazing feelings flood through her. But the hunger had returned already and brought that special kind of anger with it.

That emptiness blossomed, bigger than before. There was more to this electricity between them. More that she’d missed. More that she wanted.

A chasm stretched before her. A choice. A line that, once crossed, could never be reclaimed. But it was her choice. And suddenly she knew exactly how she wanted this one thing in her life to be. Within her control.

For this first time—for only this time—she wanted physical intimacy with a man who truly wanted her back. A man who wanted not her title, not her purity or connections. Just her—naked and no one special. This man knew nothing of who or what she was, but he wanted her. This was not love, no. But pure, basic, brilliant lust.

Just this once, she would be wanted for nothing but herself.

Almost angrily she shifted on him, pressing close again, kissing him. He kissed her back, as hard, as passionate. She moaned in his mouth. Willing him to take over. But he drew back, pressing his hand over hers, stopping her from sliding her palm down his chiselled chest to his belt.

‘We’re going to be in trouble in a second,’ he groaned. ‘Stop.’

She stared dazedly into his face as he eased her back along his thighs, almost crying at his rejection.

‘I need to keep you safe,’ he muttered as his hands worked quickly to release his zipper. ‘One second. To be safe.’

She couldn’t compute his comment because at that moment his erection sprang free. Never had she seen a man naked. Never had she touched. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small packet that he tore open with his teeth. Her mouth dried as she stared avidly.

Of course he was prepared. He was an incredibly handsome, virile man who knew exactly how to turn her on because he was experienced. He was used to this kind of anonymous tryst and he definitely knew how to make a woman feel good. And that was...okay.

As she tore her gaze away from the magnificence of him she caught sight of their reflections in that gleaming mirror again. The image of those two strangers—half naked and entwined—was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen in her life. Their pasts didn’t matter. Nor did their futures. There was only this. Only them. Only now. She turned back to look at the overwhelming man she was sitting astride with such vulnerability—and with such desire.

Princess Eleni always did the right thing.

But she wasn’t Princess Eleni tonight. She was no one and this was nothing.

‘Easy, Blue.’ He gently stroked her arm.

She realised her breathing was completely audible—rushed and short.

‘Just whatever you want,’ he muttered softly.

He wasn’t just inviting her. He was giving her the choice, all the control. Yet his voice and his body both commanded and compelled her own and there was no choice.

This once. This one time. She wanted everything—all of him. She shimmied closer. The sight of his huge straining erection made her quiver and melt. She didn’t know how to do this. She looked into his eyes and was lost in that intensity. And suddenly she understood.