And I see the pure, unbridled lust in his expression.
This time, when I reach for his waistband, he doesn’t push me away. He watches me unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper, pushing the layers of fabric off his slim hips. Standing up to help me, he drops his pants to his feet.
My breath catches.
I’ve never thought penises to be beautiful, but I was wrong. He has a gorgeous cock. Long and thick and so incredibly hard.
And right now, it’s mine.
The Prince produces a condom from somewhere. I don’t see where. I’m too busy staring. I lean back on the bed, watching him position himself between my legs and roll the condom over his shaft.
I’m done thinking about regrets. We’ve crossed a thousand lines, and I’ll cross a thousand more to get what I want.
And what I want is him. Right now. Deep inside me.
But he teases me. He brushes his tip against me, then moves backward and drops his lips between my legs. Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back.
His tongue feels like magic. It sends fire rushing through my veins and steals the breath right from my lungs. It makes my nipples tighten and my legs fall open. As I tangle my fingers in his hair, I find myself grinding against his face.
It’s brazen and naughty and not at all what I’m used to doing.
But wow, it feels good. When the Prince moves up to kiss me, I taste my own arousal on his lips. He drives his tongue inside my mouth and kisses me hard, rolling his hips against mine.
Then, with a slight adjustment, he gives me what I’ve been wanting all day. All week. My whole adult life, maybe.
His cock spears me deep, making my back arch and my lips drop open.
“Wolfe,” I cry out, running my nails down his broad, muscular back.
He grunts in response, driving inside me again. His body is all raw, commanding power. Every muscle bunches and releases as he thrusts inside me, and all I can do is cling onto him. My hands grip his shoulders, my legs wrap around his waist.
This is better than I expected. I won’t regret this. No way. There’s nothing I could regret about this. I didn’t even know sex could feel this good. I didn’t realize that—
I’m coming again.
This time, I scream. I say his name over and over again, crying out as my nails leave long red streaks across his back.
Wolfe, Wolfe, Wolfe.
He whispers in my ear in response, “Yes, princess. Come for me, Rowan. Come all over that cock.”
Dirty words that make my core clench and my orgasm ride higher. I forget that he’s a prince, because right now, it doesn’t matter. He’s a man. Beautiful, sexual, powerful man.
My body is on fire. My legs are wrapped around him like a vise, but he manages to push them open and roll me onto my stomach. I’m a rag doll, and I like it. I love it.
I love the way his arm scoops under my stomach and pulls me up to all fours. I love the way he lifts me up higher, so my back is against his chest. I love the way he enters me again, like this, clamping my body against his chest and fucking me senseless.
I didn’t know it was possible to come so many times in a row. What day is it, again? I’m not sure I even know my name. There’s a piece of hair in my mouth, but I barely have the wherewithal to spit it out.
And then I feel it.
Throbbing. Stiffening. The sheer power of his orgasm emptying into me. I gasp, trembling against him as he holds me close, his hand cupping my breast as my head rests against his chest.
Then, stillness.
We both fall forward, me on my stomach and him on top of me. We stay tangled in each other, until I groan and shift, and the Prince slides out of me and rolls over.
I’m covered in a blanket of bliss and a sheen of sweat. I stare at him through my messy hair, loving the way his cheeks are red and his face looks totally, completely relaxed.
He doesn’t look like an arrogant prince right now. He’s not a cocky asshole used to getting what he wants. Right now, he’s gentle. Soft. Smiling at me.
Then, he groans and glances down. “Shit,” he says, frowning.
I follow his gaze to his groin, where his cock glistens with sticky wetness, the remains of a broken condom wrapped around its base.
The Prince glances at me, gritting his teeth. “Tell me you’re on the pill.”
16
Wolfe
Shit, shit, shit.
If there’s anything that ruins post-coital bliss, it’s the knowledge that the condom broke and we’re stuck in an isolated cottage in whiteout storm conditions.
Rowan’s eyes widen, sapphire blue turning slightly deeper as she stares at the mess between my legs. She shakes her head, eyes still wide with shock. “The pill made me really moody and gave me headaches. I stopped taking it when I broke up with my ex.”
“You stopped taking it?” I frown.
“Well, it’s not like I was having sex with anyone,” Rowan snaps, turning away from me. She glances between her legs, sucking in a long breath. “I don’t… What do we do?”
Pulling the broken latex off my cock, I stand up and toss it in the garbage. “Not much we can do. Hopefully by the time the storm clears we can get back to the main castle. Dr. Williams might have a morning after pill or be able to get some in town.”
“Okay.” Rowan frowns, counting on her fingers and whispering to herself. She glances at me, straightening up. “I just got my period recently. I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating. I think the chances of…” She doesn’t say the words getting pregnant, but they hang heavy between us. Rowan takes a deep breath. “I think the chances are low.”
“Still.”
“I’ll still take the morning after pill. Of course. I’m not trying to make my life more complicated than it already is.” She huffs out a laugh, putting a hand to her forehead. Clearing her throat, she reaches for her top and clutches it to her chest, as if she doesn’t want to be naked with me right now.
It stings and I’m not sure why.
“Bathroom?” she asks. “I’d like to take a shower.”
I jerk my head to a door adjoining the bedroom and watch her scuttle toward it, still hiding herself behind her sweater.
I glance down at my cock, letting out a long breath. That was probably a dumb idea. I shouldn’t be having sex with anyone right now, and especially not a woman I just met.
Especially not when there’s a possibility she could get pregnant.
Fuck.
Flopping onto the bed, I scrub my face with my hands. I let my cock get the better of me. It’s been begging me to act on these desires since the first day I met Rowan. Now what?
I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have given in. I should have ignored the thumping in my chest and the burning desire to have a taste of her. I came to the Summer Palace exactly to avoid this kind of thing. To spend the month by myself, sorting through the mess in my mind. To weather the storm that October brings for another year.
The bathroom door opens, and Rowan emerges in a cloud of steam. She has a fluffy white towel wrapped around her body. The deer-in-headlights look in her eyes has ceded to a more closed-off expression, and she gives me a quick nod.
“Go ahead.”
We don’t say another word as I walk by her in the bathroom, and although her cheeks are pink, she doesn’t meet my eye.
She regrets this. Wishes we hadn’t slept together.
She’s probably right. It was a dumb idea.
By the time I’m done showering, Rowan isn’t in the room. I find her in the main space, in front of the fire sipping her forgotten drink. She glances back at me, nodding.
“Any food in this place?”
“Mostly non-perishables.”
“At least there’s alcohol.” She gives me a smile, but it’s not quite as bright as it was an hour ago.
I sit down opposite her, picking up my own discarded drink. I jerk my chin toward her. “You okay?”
“Fine, why?”
“You
regret what we just did?”
“I guess that depends on whether or not I get pregnant.” She says it as a joke, forcing out a laugh, but it falls flat. Her lips drop and she turns to the fire, wrapping her arms around herself and taking another sip.
“It’ll be fine. By morning we’ll be able to get back to the castle, and Dr. Williams will have something for you to take.”
Rowan nods. “The odds are super low, anyway.”
“Exactly.”
I open my mouth to add something, then hesitate. I want to ask her if she’d regret it even if she wasn’t pregnant. If she’d ever want to do this again. If she felt something while we were in the bedroom that might have felt like more than just sex.
I sure as hell did—not that I’d ever admit it.
Rowan drains her glass and glances at me. “Well, I have a lot to think about with that new design. I might sketch out some drawings based on those paintings tonight and then turn in. I’m assuming there’s more than one bedroom in this place?”
I nod, my face remaining neutral. “You can take the room we were in. It’s the master. I’ll sleep down the hall.”
Rowan gives me a pinched smile, carrying her glass as she walks over to the studio. I hear the door opening and closing.
I’m alone.
I stare at the fire until it dies down, then I go check on the dogs and head to bed. I don’t see Rowan again until morning.
When I get up, I give the dogs breakfast in the kennel and head back inside to find Rowan making coffee. She turns to face me with a mug of coffee in her hand. Her face looks lined, as if she barely slept last night.
Was she worried about the broken condom? Or something else?
“Weather looks pretty clear,” she says quietly.
“We can head back after coffee,” I answer.
There’s distance between us, and I hate it. I hate that she regrets what happened. Most of all, I hate that I care. So, what, I sleep with a woman and suddenly I’m in love? Why do I care if Rowan regrets this or not? It’s not like we’re together. She’s the architect in charge of the redesign of my palace, for shit’s sake. She’s not exactly marriage material. We fucked. It was fun. It’s over.
End of story.
I drink my coffee in the kennels as I get the dogs ready, then wait for Rowan to emerge. We ride back to the main palace in silence.
No delicate laughs. No stolen glances. No teasing touches and definitely no kissing.
Whatever happened between me and Rowan is over.
And you know what? Good. It should be over. Keep things casual. She was a good lay. It was fun. That’s it. That’s all it should be.
But when I watch her walk toward her room on the opposite side of the Summer Palace, something in my chest twinges.
Rubbing my sternum with the base of my palm, I trudge through the castle walls until I get to my chambers. Stripping down, I take a shower and wash the memory of yesterday away. Then, I call for Dr. Williams and hope he’ll be able to extinguish any last regrets from my mind.
17
Rowan
There aren’t any morning after pills in the palace, Dr. Williams informs me with nothing but professionalism and tact. I try to swallow down the shame and wonder how many other staff members know what I did with the Prince.
“By the time the roads open up for us to get supplies, it’ll be too late to take it,” the doctor says.
I nod. “I understand. I don’t think I’m ovulating, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
The doctor nods, shifting uncomfortably. He opens his mouth, reconsiders, and bows his head before backing out of my room. I flop down onto the bed, groaning.
I’m a healthy young woman who has sex. I’m not ashamed of that.
But ugh, did I really have to give in to those feelings? Throw away every shred of logical thought for a few minutes of passion?
I stand up and wrap a cardigan around my shoulders, then head to the library. At least I feel comfortable there. As I pad through the hallways, I feel like I’m being watched. The staff is whispering about me. They must know by now, right?
I wonder if the Prince does this with every new woman he comes across. Maybe this is his way of dealing with the grief of his fiancée’s death.
I shove the library door open with my shoulder, shivering at the chill in the room. It takes me a few minutes to get the fire started, and I sit on the hearth with a throw blanket wrapped around my shoulders. As the fire grows, I stare at the dancing flames and try to make sense of my turbulent thoughts.
Sleeping with the Prince was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m attracted to him, yes, but he’s royalty. I’m not. I’m employed by the royal family to do a job, and I’m not even from Nord to begin with.
It was just one night of fun. That’s all.
“I thought I might find you here,” a deep voice says from the doorway.
I almost groan at the sight of the Prince in well-tailored slacks and a fitted sweater. I remember what he looked like with nothing on, too. Both versions of him are delicious—and both of them are totally off-limits.
“Your Highness,” I say with a nod, choosing not to get up to curtsy.
“We’re back to formal titles, are we?” He arches a brow, padding toward me. He stalks across the room, coming to sit down on the sofa beside me.
I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “The doctor told me they don’t have any morning after pills.”
The Prince grunts. When he doesn’t speak for a few seconds, I turn to glance at him. He’s watching me. “What?”
He shrugs. “Trying to figure you out.”
“Well, if you do, let me know what you find.” I grin, shaking my head. “I’m still working on that myself.”
Clearing his throat, the Prince shifts in his seat. “As I said before, I’ve organized the plane to take you to Stirling as soon as it’s safe. Your grandmother has an apartment there, courtesy of the royal family, and I’m sure she’d appreciate the company while she recovers. I’ve also asked my sister to make an office available to you at the Stirling Castle.”
My mouth hangs open. “You…You what?”
The Prince’s eyebrows tug together. “You do want to see your grandmother, don’t you?”
“Of course. But I didn’t think you would…” I trail off. I didn’t think you’d understand. I didn’t think you’d be kind. I didn’t think you’d care.
“I don’t regret what we did yesterday,” the Prince says, his voice sending heat flowing through my veins.
I gulp, turning back to stare at the flames. “No?”
“Not a bit.”
“Just another notch on your bedpost, I guess.” The logs crackle as the flames climb higher.
The Prince is silent for a beat. “I guess so,” he says quietly. He stands up and heads for the door, closing it softly behind him—no minions needed this time.
My heart squeezes.
Maybe the Prince isn’t who I thought he was. Maybe he’s not the arrogant asshole with an army of servants. Maybe he doesn’t sleep with every woman who crosses his path.
Maybe he cares.
Letting my eyes close, I turn back to the fire and tuck my legs into my chest. I wrap the blanket tight around me and rest my chin on my knees, trying to still the thumping of my heart. I don’t understand what’s going on. Why is he being so generous? So kind?
He doesn’t regret what we did yesterday.
What does that even mean? My heart beats uncomfortably as I think about the possibility of him and me…
No. It’s not possible. He might not regret it, but he’s not the one who needs this job in order to progress in his career. I’m the one who needs to be here. I’m the one who’s relying on this job to make a name for myself. I’m the one who built my architecture business from the ground up and who can’t afford to mess this up.
He might not regret it, but I do.
The door opens again, and my heart jumps. Is he back?
“Hi, Vikki,” I say with a smile.
“How was the cottage?”
“Beautiful,” I say.
She nods, crossing her legs as she sits down beside me. I offer her one side of the blanket, and she shimmies closer to wrap it around her shoulders.
“I heard you’re going to be leaving us soon.” My new friend sounds sad, and I wonder how lonely it really gets up here, isolated in the wilderness.
“I’ll be going to Stirling to spend time with my grandmother and work on my designs.”
Vikki makes a soft noise, glancing at me. “The Prince likes you.”
I stiffen. Does she know about last night? Does everyone know? Who else did the Prince tell? “Why do you say that?”
“He organized a car for you. I heard him on the phone to the Queen, asking for space for you to work. Really fought for you to get it.”
My chest constricts. “Oh. That’s not…normal? He doesn’t do that for everyone?”
Vikki laughs. “Prince Wolfe is the most loyal, protective person in the world…if he cares about you. Otherwise, he’ll tear you to shreds or completely ignore you. I’ve been in the ‘ignore’ camp my whole life. Never once has he made time for me to go see my family and actually put effort into making it happen. He doesn’t even know my name.”
“Maybe he believes in my design for this palace,” I say, my voice sounding hollow and empty.
Vikki snorts. “Yeah. That’s probably it. He definitely doesn’t ask us to make sure you have everything you need three times a day ever since you arrived here.”
My eyes widen as I glance at my friend.
She shrugs, grinning. “You have a fan.”
I shake my head, standing up. I heap my half of the blanket onto Vikki’s lap, stretching my arms out. “I don’t think so. I’m going to do a bit of work before I turn in tonight.”
Vikki stares at me curiously, tilting her head. “You like him, too.”
“I do not.”
Lone Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 7) Page 11