Undeniable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series Book 3)

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Undeniable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series Book 3) Page 22

by Ruth Cardello


  She does.

  I continue, “See how small everything becomes? That always reminds me the problems I feel are insurmountable really aren’t that big if I step back and give myself a better perspective of them. Like life, sometimes the ride is smooth. Sometimes it’s bumpy. I try to remember to savor when it is smooth so when the turbulence comes, and it always does, I know what to hold on to.”

  She turns toward me. “Wait are we still talking about sex?”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “No, I went off on a life tangent.”

  Her smile is cheeky. “Good because I’m hoping for a smooth ride.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I cringe at my eager promise. Holy hell, she can turn me on and turn me inside out like no one else—ever. I try to appear less affected than I am. What I’d really like to do is stand up, strip down, and show her that a little turbulence is also enjoyable.

  “Do you want to wait, Savannah?” Her mouth drops open. I’m just as surprised as she is that I asked. “I want you, Savannah, so much. But your first time will be something you always remember. If you have any doubts now, after things get heated, you just say it. We won’t do a single thing you’re not ready for. It’s important to me that you understand that.”

  She releases her seat belt and turns fully in her seat. “Guess what I’m not when I’m with you.”

  “What are you not?”

  “Guess.”

  I shake my head. I don’t know.

  She rises to her feet and stands between my legs. “I’m not afraid. I’m also not a child, Brice. I’m twenty-three, and I want you too.” She leans down, a hand on either side of my chair and gives me a kiss so wanton and so trusting that any concerns I have fall away.

  I’m on my feet, removing her clothing as I savor every inch of her mouth.

  She pulls my shirt out of my pants and runs her hands up my back. I groan and pull her blouse up and over her head. Her bra hits the floor a second later and I cup those perfectly round tits of hers. So small. So firm. I have to taste them.

  She arches back, giving me better access to them.

  This, gentlemen, is where boys separate from men. Every partner is different. Sex is a dance one learns the steps to as they go. I know what turns other women on. I was guided by some to experiment and adapt as I go. Does Savannah enjoy having my tongue swirl around her nipple? She appears to. Does suckling make her beg for more? How about a gentle nipple tug with my teeth?

  She grabs my shoulders and gasps.

  “Tell me when you like it, princess. Tell me every fucking time it’s good for you, and this will only get better.”

  I move to her other nipple and showcase my talents in a different order. It’s the tongue nipple flick followed by a gentle tug, then swirl and repeat that has her begging me not to stop.

  She reaches for my belt, but I stop her. I’m already excited beyond where I want to be. I don’t want to rush, and if those delicious hands of hers wraps around my cock, I’ll be a goner.

  I shed my shirt and between tongue-intertwining kisses, I remove the rest of her clothing. I pick her up and carry her toward the rear of the plane where there is a small bedroom. I lay her gently down on the bed and force myself to wait before I join her.

  “Are you sure?” If I sense hesitation, I need to have the control to walk away.

  People say sex is different with someone you love, but I didn’t believe it until just now. No amount of promised pleasure, nothing I want, is more important than confirming that Savannah feels safe and loved.

  Eyes burning with desire, she holds her hand out to me. Rather than take it, I shed my trousers and move to the end of the bed. I kiss my way up the arch of one of her feet, while caressing the other. And gently I push them apart.

  And move a little higher.

  I kiss her calf, the inside of her leg behind her knee, then move to love the other. I run my hands up and down the sides of her legs as I do.

  Spread before me, her bare sex opening like a flower for me, I take my time. I like a bare mound. I’ll thank her later. Right now I’m enjoying the view and the fact that her sex is wet and glistening, even though I have yet to touch it.

  Her hands grip the sheets on either side of her. I edge her legs farther apart and kiss my way up her inner thighs. Her hips jut upward.

  I blow on her exposed labia. She shivers and makes a sound that tells me this is driving her as wild as it’s driving me.

  There is nothing like the scent of a woman. I part her sex and lap up her taste. It’s heady. Exciting. I could feast on this alone and die a happy man. Any man who feels differently isn’t worth fucking.

  Here, too, women differ in what they want. I’ve heard some men rush for the clit and rub the shit out of it. They attack it like they want a woman to attack their dick. It’s not the same. A woman’s engine runs just as hot if it’s given time to rev.

  I kiss, tease, lick, suck, rub with my jaw. When I come across what drives her wild, I do it long enough to have her writhing, then move on and circle back to it. The best orgasms are the ones that build and build until they crash like a wave over a person. I’m a connoisseur, and I’ll teach Savannah to be as well. Sometimes hot and fast is good. With forever before us, there will be time to explore those as well. This time, I want her to experience the orgasm that is all consuming, undeniable.

  Her hands are in my hair, fisting almost painfully.

  Has she brought herself pleasure in the past? I earmark that question for later as well. Either way, it’s something she’ll do for me. I want to know all the ways she orgasms—by my hand, by hers, through whatever toys she is comfortable with exploring.

  I slip a finger inside her. She’s wet, tight, and tense. We’re not there yet.

  I kiss my way up and down her legs again, returning my tongue and my fingers to her sex. Wet, nearly ready, I continue to tease her clit until she is spreading her legs wider and begging me to take her.

  I pause only long enough to slip on a condom, then I’m above her, positioning myself between her legs. I draw her knees up on either side and kiss her deeply.

  As she opens up to my tongue, her legs wrap around my waist. I move so the tip of my cock grazes her parted sex. Once again, experience has taught me the restraint I show now will bring both of us more pleasure.

  She moves her hips to meet mine and the tip of my cock dips inside her. I kiss my way to her ear. “I love you, Savannah.”

  “I love you too,” she says in a breathless voice.

  I slowly push through her folds, gently filling her.

  Our eyes meet.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes,” she says.

  I pull out slowly, then fill her again. This time going balls deep. She smiles.

  Once again slowly.

  Her hips begin to move with mine, and I lose some control. She feels so fucking good.

  I shift, raising her ass off the bed and plunge deeper. When I partially withdraw, there is a hint of pink on my condom, but her expression hasn’t changed. She’s ready.

  I drive into her with more force. She gasps, but says, “Oh, God, that’s good.”

  That’s all I need to hear.

  I thrust deeper, harder, faster. All thinking suspends. There’s only me, her, and desire rocketing through me. I’m pounding into her. She’s thrusting up to meet me, letting me in deeper.

  She cries out as she comes. I feel the spasms pass through her, revel in how her sex clenches around me.

  I keep pounding. I can’t stop. She’s so wet. So tight.

  Then I’m coming. Grunting. Groaning. Exploding.

  I collapse onto my elbows and kiss her as I come back down to earth.

  I roll off her, head to the bathroom, and clean myself off. I return with a warm, wet towel and wash her. There is nothing more beautiful than the evidence of her innocence. I don’t say it because I meant it when I said my feelings wouldn’t have changed if she said she gave this gift to another man. />
  But she saved it for me.

  I dispose of the towel, pull her into my arms, and wrap a blanket around both of us. She traces a design on my chest. Does she have any regrets? I tip her head up so she looks me in the eye, and I say, “So that’s one flight pattern. There are many more.”

  She chuckles, an act that makes her bare breasts jiggle delightfully against my side. “So, we’re holding to this aviation analogy?”

  I try to look offended. “It’s not genius?”

  She goes up onto one elbow and kisses me before answering. “It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

  I cock an eyebrow. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  She rolls her eyes and smacks me in the chest, not hard enough to hurt, just a clap of reprimand. “Since I have nothing to compare it to, I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Oh, really?” I growl and roll her so she’s beneath me again. “Just so we’re clear, this airline has a strict loyalty policy.”

  She cups my face with both hands. “Just so we’re clear, so do I.”

  We laugh and roll so now she’s on top, gloriously sprawled across me. “I’m okay with that, princess.”

  Smiling, she runs a finger over my lips. “I want to tell you not to call me that, but I may be starting to like it. What does that say about me?”

  That’s she’s meant to be a princess? I could tell her now, but we have a long flight, and I know her well enough to know her mind will start racing if I do. Yes, my family is royal, but not as stuffy as the British. I’d worry that some of my father’s old-fashioned ideas might offend her, but Savannah isn’t a wilting flower, and I’ve met her friends. They’re proof she can overlook a few flaws.

  Will she be upset that I didn’t tell her I’m a prince?

  I’m reasonably certain that’s something women find easy to forgive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Savannah

  After napping in Brice’s arms, we showered together then changed into surprisingly formal clothing. On his suggestion, I took the time to do my hair and makeup. He said his family is meeting us at the airport, and I want to make a good impression.

  I’m sitting beside Brice again, each chastely in our own seats. Every time our eyes meet I blush. In the shower we’d made love a second time, and it had been just as wonderful as I imagined shower sex would be. Soaping each other. Boldly exploring each other’s bodies. Did I mention that I love his talented tongue?

  And his dick.

  Big. Hard. Eager for more soon after we finish. He, and it, definitely lived up to my fantasies.

  Me? I could have done better than my first attempt at giving him oral sex, but he didn’t complain. He says the more we do it, the better it gets. He doesn’t have to convince me. It’s already incredible. But I’m willing to follow his lead on this. After all, he is an expert pilot.

  I chuckle.

  The actual pilot announces our decent and my post-multiple-orgasm peace dissolves. I clench Brice’s hand so tightly I’m leaving marks. We land with a bump.

  He kisses my cheek. “My brother will be waiting for us when we get off the plane. His name is Mathias.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just breathe.”

  I look out the window to see flashing cameras and a crowd of people. “Is there someone famous here or something?”

  “The royal family always draws a big crowd.”

  “Royalty? Here? Will we get a glimpse of them?”

  “Yes. I’m sure you will.”

  “That’s exciting.”

  As we disembark the plane a man who looks like a slightly older version of Brice stands with a straight back and serious face. He’s surrounded by men in suits and most of the cameras point in his direction.

  Then the cameras point at us as we walk over to him.

  “Brother,” Brice says with a smile as we are quickly escorted toward a waiting SUV, “this is Savannah.” We stop and they turn toward the cameras as we wait by the vehicle. I stand nervously to the side, wanting to hide behind Brice.

  “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you had a good flight.”

  “Very good,” I say, hoping he never hears how good. “What’s going on here? Brice said something about a royal family. Are they here as well?”

  “You haven’t told her?” Mathias says with a laugh.

  “Savannah, this is my older brother, Mathias, the future king of Calvadria.”

  What? My jaw drops open. Get the fuck out.

  Mathias gestures to Brice. “And this is my brother, Bricelion. The second in line for the crown if I do something stupid and fall off a cliff or something.”

  I swing toward Brice and wag a finger at him. “You’re a prince? The family you want to introduce me to is royalty? Like king and queen royalty?”

  Brice nods.

  I’m not ready to believe it yet. “Wait, you two are messing with me, right?”

  Another SUV pulls up and all the photographers turn toward them. An older couple steps out. The man is in a dark suit. His white hair is combed down in a conservative style. The woman is in a flowing dress and has her hair in a loose bun. They approach with a dignified air that makes me want to curtsey or something. They’re surrounded by guards who flank their way to us.

  “Just be yourself,” Brice says in my ear, before he kisses my cheek. “Mother, Father, this is Savannah.”

  Their warm smiles seem guarded, but I can hardly blame them. They’re likely as gobsmacked by me showing up as I am.

  His father speaks first. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Savannah Barre. You’re the first woman my son has brought home.”

  “And I’d better be the last,” I joke, then cover my mouth with my hand. “Sorry.”

  Brice is the first to laugh. Followed by his brother.

  His father looks like he wants to.

  His mother not as much. She looks me over from head to toe. There was a time when I would have cowered before such an appraisal, but I raise my chin and return her gaze. No one is better than anyone else. I am here because Brice asked me to be. That’s all that matters.

  “Please excuse that Brice’s sister, Bianca, isn’t here. Teenagers are impossible sometimes. Even royal ones.”

  “No worries. I’m sure she’s as lovely as all of you. I’ll meet her when she’s ready.”

  Her expression softens. “I’ve heard you work with children.”

  I relax. “Not yet. I’m taking classes to learn how to help children who have experienced trauma. I’ve only just started, but it’s what I feel called to do.”

  Her smile returns. “That’s an admirable goal.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I’m sure as a queen you help a lot of people as well. I’m still processing the news that Brice is a prince. The cameras really gave it away.”

  She cocks her head to one side and looks from me to Brice and back. “Did my son tell you he was a prince before you came here?”

  “Not one damn word about it.”

  I see the laughter in her eyes before she lets out a delightful, cultured laugh. “My son always has been a bit of a rascal.”

  Brice puts his arm around my waist. “That is undeniable.” He smiles down at me. “Are you still willing to take me on?”

  “Yes.” I look around. The old me would have been intimidated, but I can do this. “I swear on a jar of fish eyes.”

  When his family gives me an odd look, he says, “I never know what she’ll say, but that’s part of what I love about her.”

  EPILOGUE

  “Are you upset?” Brice’s arm drapes over my shoulder as we move down one of the long corridors of the palace. The biggest surprise of this castle, besides the fact that it belongs to Brice’s family, is how welcoming it is. Somehow, in spite of the size, there is a sense of home around every corner.

  “Upset?” I look out the large arched window at the grounds of the property and wonder how anyone could be upset here. Perfectly sculpted landscaping and vibrantly blooming flowers. Pathw
ays leading down to the sea, all lined with intricately carved wood lanterns.

  “I had my reasons for not telling you I was a prince. But I wouldn’t blame you for being upset.”

  “Yes.” I say flatly. “I’m insulted by your secret giant castle and wonderful royal family. How could you? You monster.”

  He chuckles, a rumble from his chest. “I just thought our situation was complex enough. We didn’t need to throw me being a prince into the mix.”

  “I will admit I’m slightly intimidated. Your parents are lovely, but they seem like very serious people.”

  “They are.”

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a bit—”

  “Quirky?”

  He could have blown it there. Quirky will do. “Yes. That works. I’m not sure I’ll be what your parents want for you. It’s been two days and I feel like maybe they’re questioning your decision to bring me here.”

  “My parents are worried about Bianca who is acting as though rebelling against the monarchy is her job. They’re still processing the fact that Mathias won’t need to marry someone he doesn’t want to. You, they like. They will grow to love you as I do.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “My father hasn’t said a single foolish outdated thing in front of you. My mother hasn’t made a comment about my royal duties. They’re enjoying your company and more than that, they can see how happy you make me.”

  “Is that enough? I don’t know the rules for a royal family. I’m sure I’m breaking them left and right.” I run my hand along the textured stonework of the wall and realize suddenly maybe this is a misstep too.

  “Nothing makes us more compatible than the rules we’ll break together. I’ll prove it to you. Are you ready for your next surprise? Something that might put you more at ease about how serious it is around here?”

  “Are we off to some old timey horse race where we chase foxes? Do you wear a top hat?”

  “I’m worried you’re basing all your ideas about royalty on what you’ve seen on television.”

 

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