No Prince Charming

by Angel Payne

  “Sweet Claire. My fairy queen.” He let out a harsh breath. I did the same. My stomach had taken up a full acrobatic act now, and my heart joined it. But gymnastics were not my thing.

  Something was going on. I pulled my head back to gaze up at him.

  “Tell me,” I charged. “What is it?” I let my psyche dive into the black seas of his eyes, screwing the life vest. The emotions in his inky depths extended for countless fathoms, made even scarier by the realization that most involved me. But a larger epiphany struck. This weekend wasn’t just about hibernation. It was about revelation. There were still secrets between us, a fact I suddenly hated with a vengeance. His gaze confirmed that he felt the same.

  I reached up, stroking his strong, proud jaw. “Tell me, Kil. You’re safe with me, remember? No more running. Isn’t that our rule now?” I grinned as punctuation, trying to inject a little levity.

  He tugged my hand from his face and gently moved it over his heart, instead. More emotional gymnastics, especially as he extended his gaze, regarding me with such tenderness, uncertainty…and fear? And dear God, I could feel him trembling, too.

  “Are you cold?” I queried. It seemed the logical thing to say. He never shook like this. Never threw me into confusion like this. Never looked so vulnerable like this. “Should we go inside?”

  He laughed, but the mirth barely passed his lips. It sure as hell didn’t make it to his eyes. “I’m not cold, baby girl.” He kept my hand close to his chest. “I’m scared. Scared to death, actually.”

  I started to panic. Had Margaux finally said something to him? No. He’d already have downed half the wine, and a deep instinct told me his tension level would be different.

  That narrowed things to one option. What could Trey possibly have done now? I tried to pull my hand away, but Killian yanked back, gripping me tighter. “What happened? What has he done?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. He’s doing everything completely right. The picture of a reformed rake, down to his appearance at the Children’s Hospital Fun Run this afternoon.”

  I frowned a little. “And that’s a problem?”

  A laugh tugged the edges of his lips, though sadness formed its underpinnings. “Damn right it’s a problem. Everything’s going so well that you’ll pack up your things and go back to San Diego. And you’ll take this,” —he pulled my hand away enough to tap it back against his chest— “along with you.” His eyes began to shimmer with shards of intensity. “I’m not sure I’m equipped to survive without you now.”

  With my free hand, I raised my glass and took a huge gulp from it. I suddenly had the driest throat in Illinois. And the most overwhelmed mind. I drained the glass before daring to look up again.

  “Do you mind if we go inside? Now I’m kind of cold.” I was stalling and he probably saw right through it. But returning to the living room freed me to turn distractions into conversation. “What smells so good? Please don’t tell me you can cook, too, Stone. If this gets out, we’ll be worrying about your fan club instead of the press this weekend.”

  “Perhaps I can, Miss Montgomery.” He wiggled his dark brows, making me burst into giggles. “Maybe we’ll forget teacher’s ruler in favor of a wooden spoon on that fantastic ass.”

  I continued laughing—until he pulled a big wooden spoon from the canister on the counter top. “You wouldn’t dare!” I’d just refilled my wine but set it down on the counter, backing away.

  “I would.” As he stalked toward me, he tapped the implement against his thigh.

  “Killian, I’m serious.” I deliberately cranked up my moan.

  “So am I, baby. So. Am. I.”

  “That—that thing will hurt.” Dammit, my stomach was in knots. The good squishy kind.

  “Hmm. Probably. But only for a little bit, I promise.”

  My insides melted a little more. His “promise” looked hot and horny and heavenly. “Okay, wait. I’ll make a deal with you.” Yep, stalling again—but if I made a run for it, he would catch me before I cleared three feet down the hall.

  His Lucifer’s smirk spread across his sinful lips. “Hmm. A deal. Well, I am a businessman.” He arched a brow. “But a shrewd one.”

  I nodded, my solemnity not entirely mocking. “And don’t I know it.”

  “Let’s hear your terms then, fairy.”

  I firmed my stance and raised my chin. “Truth or dare.”

  His features widened on a laugh. “What?”

  “Truth or dare.” I repeated it with more confidence. “If I pick ‘dare,’ you can spank me with that giant oar you’re calling a spoon. If I pick ‘truth,’ you can ask me anything you want.”

  He played at the hem of my skirt with the spoon. “The idea has merit. Go on.”

  “The rules apply both ways.” I fought to keep my gaze away from his face, lust now clouding his features as he roamed the spoon up my thigh and across one cheek of my backside. “But I’ll think of something better for your ‘dare’ because as Ms. Xu pointed out not long ago, you’d consent to a spanking—never.”

  His grin grew wider, which I interpreted as agreement to the plan. For a second, I almost reneged. What on earth was I getting myself into? On the other hand, maybe this was a good thing. We’d both been withholding things from each other, and we both knew it. Maybe now Killian would pry back a few of his masks for me, even a little. Maybe it would be worth the price of lifting mine.

  He swept a hand toward the sofa, then turned to pull a brick of brie from the oven. From the sideboard, he scooped up a basket of crusty artisan bread. I grabbed our glasses and the wine bottle before sitting down. As he lowered next to me, one arm sliding along the back of the sofa, he appeared a little skittish. I grinned, deciding Nervous Killian was pretty damn hot, too.

  “All right, my queen. Ladies first.”

  “Really?” After his nod and grin of confirmation, I bounced a little, grabbed his hand, and declared, “Okay then, Mr. Stone. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.” He answered with smug speed. That was all right. I was ready. You might think twice about that next time, Stone.

  “How old were you when you lost your virginity?” I blushed in the asking but it was a legitimate curiosity. Besides, given my refusal to elect a spanking in this lifetime, he certainly wasn’t going to tread lightly on his question for me. I had to take the opportunity now.

  “Seventeen.” He followed it with a simple stare. No details, despite the grin I gave him as a spur. Aha. Now I followed his strategy. I would have to word my questions more carefully.

  Satisfaction gleamed from the handsome bastard’s gaze as he twirled the spoon with his long fingers like a majorette’s baton. In the same motion, he popped a piece of bread into his mouth. “Okay, then. Truth or dare, Claire.” The silly slumber party words slid seductively from his mouth, especially as he lingered through the process of licking cheese off his lips.

  “You’re trying to distract me,” I accused.

  “Definitely. And it’s working.”

  I growled, met his stare straight on, and challenged, “Truth.”

  “Have you ever had sex on the beach?” His eyes danced with mischief. I’m sure mine sparkled wickedly now, too.

  “Be careful what you’re asking, Mr. Stone. You may not like the answer.”

  “Why don’t you let me decide that?”

  I took a sip of wine. “Well, remember that I’ve lived in San Diego my whole life, so…yes.” When his face fell a little. I chuckled. “What’d I just say? Don’t ask me things you might be afraid of knowing, mister. You’re forcing me to tell you the truth.”

  A laugh cracked his lips, as well. He leaned and planted a fast kiss on my lips. “We both have histories, baby. I know that. I can’t help being a little pissed that other men have touched you, but I’m not an idiot.”

  “Well,” I mumbled, “not all the time.”

  In retaliation, he pressed his lips harder. He paused to dip another piece of bread, but this time, lifted it to my mout
h with his fingers underneath to catch the dripping cheese. When I finished chewing, I leaned forward to suck the savory goo off his fingers, capturing his stare with mine as I swirled my tongue around the tip of each long, beautiful digit. His Adam’s apple throbbed with a hard gulp. I didn’t relent. With the edges of my teeth, I nipped at the pad of his thumb, which didn’t have a trace of cheese on it. It was time for this silly game to be over.

  He pulled his hand back and took a sip of wine without breaking our eye contact. The charge in the air between us was tangible. When he spoke, his voice was a husky grate. “Your turn, fairy.”

  “But I really liked the new game we were playing.” I said it with my best pout, making him laugh. I had to admit, getting him to open up was exhilarating. He was as movable as a mountain when an action plan wasn’t his idea.

  “Fine. Truth or dare?” I added a nice eye roll for good measure—though this time, he stunned me with his answer.

  “Dare.”

  I snapped wide eyes at him. Sucked in a hard breath.

  “Ohhhh, the possibilities, Mr. Stone.”

  He pressed close again, his burnished features a mesmerizing portrait of rigid and soft, command yet need. “Indeed, Miss Montgomery.”

  Screw the possibilities. There was only one thing I wanted right now. Needed. Screwed up my courage to demand from him.

  “I dare you to make love to me, right here, on your living room floor, in front of the fireplace.”

  By this point, my stomach was a damn trapeze act of anxiety—but another part of me cheered. Phrasing anything to this man in the form of an ultimatum, even in the parameters of a game, felt like telling the president to strip naked in front of Congress. It just wasn’t done. Killian’s authority was like his skin. He wore it, wielded it, and protected it with a ferocity I couldn’t explain.

  Which meant I succumbed to a dozen kinds of insecurity as he rose and walked out of the room. Despite my dread, I couldn’t peel my stare from him as he turned toward the bedroom. I heard movement but had no idea what was going on. In a motionless mix of apprehension and excitement, I waited for him to return—hopefully.

  He prowled back into the room carrying a large throw that was some type of faux fur in silver and black. I pushed the ottoman out of the way, taking care not to jostle the wine glasses, as he spread the blanket on the floor in its place. Still not uttering a word, he tossed the large pillows from the sofa on top of the throw. The result was a scene from some divine romance movie—as well as my wildest fantasies.

  Killian toed off his loafers, kicking them to the side of the blanket. He guided my hands to his shoulders as he bent and unzipped my boots, tossing them the same direction after I stepped from them.

  For a long moment, we simply stood looking at each other. I tried to focus on getting enough air as I comprehended that, for this perfect bubble of time, this beautiful man was all mine.

  The rain began again outside. Drops trickled down the huge window panes, but the fireplace kept everything warm inside—as if I needed those flames, with the radiance of the man who now slipped to his knees in front of me. When he tilted his head and gazed up at me, the coal of his eyes reached into all the corners of my heart, heating me from the inside out. The song on the radio flowed around us, sweet harmonies on top of beautiful words.

  And if you fall, you’ll always land right in these arms…these arms of mine…

  “Claire.” He uttered only that while resting his head against my stomach. My fingers filtered through his hair, treasuring him as he wrapped his arms around my hips, worshipping me. I held him tighter, battling the feeling that if I didn’t, I would be suddenly lost.

  In that singular moment, our relationship shifted to strange new ground. We really did peel back masks, opening ourselves, being bare…being scared. Without words, professing our acceptance of each other’s secrets and still wanting each other despite them. Because of them. A gift given mutually, freely, perfectly.

  I’d never felt more beautiful in my life. More desired. Forever. I pleaded the word to heaven. Couldn’t this simply go on forever? At the same time, I acknowledged my gratitude for it by refusing to rush anything. With slow care, I sank to my knees, as well. We weren’t one above the other anymore—and because of that, I resolved my mind and heart to a significant decision.

  I wanted to tell him everything. I would tell him. After he made love to my body, I’d trust him with my truth. For the first time since Nick, I felt close enough to someone to take this chance. It had been nearly three years. I wanted to finally make this leap of faith, because of this beautiful man. Killian would keep me safe. He filled my mind with his strength, my heart with his devotion, my spirit with all of his spirit. He gave me everything I needed to trust him.

  Our lips met on a sigh at first. I kissed him tenderly, showing him what I wanted to give him—my heart. The intensity of his posture, his touch, and his face all showed how he saw and understood. He returned my kiss with reverence.

  “Claire Montgomery, you are an amazing woman.” He looked into my eyes, brushing hair away from my face while kissing his way down my jaw, neck, and collar bone. “Thank you, baby. I will never betray your trust. Never.”

  His kisses were as earnest as his words. He tipped me down and covered my body with his, but he never ceased those caresses. With his lips still suckling and nuzzling my neck, he skated fingers along my ribcage, taking the fabric of my sweater with them. I helped him pull the garment over my head, letting it fall behind me to the floor so I lay before him in my bra and skirt.

  He pulled in an audible breath, releasing it with slow reverence while bending to kiss and lick my newly exposed skin. I sighed as his praising whispers rained over me, sending tingles through parts of my body that had likely never known arousal before. He covered every dip and swell, awakening torrents of pleasure through me, as I stroked the graceful muscles of his back and tunneled my hands through his thick hair.

  My bra was an early casualty, as was the skirt. Soon I only wore a lacy white thong, and was spread out for him like a virginal offering to a dark and glorious god. When Killian’s gaze raked over me, I felt exactly that perfect, too…that expectant and new. If that was really the case, the sacrifice would’ve been a willing one. I stared up at him with that thought in the forefront of my mind, hoping he knew how far I was in this with him. He hungrily wet his lips while running the tips of his fingers over my nudity, grazing his fingers from my shoulder to my hip bone and back again.

  “So beautiful.” The syllables spilled from him on fierce grunts. “So beautiful and so mine.” His black gaze drilled into mine, daring me to say otherwise. As if that were an option anymore.

  “Yes, Killian. Yours.” I was done running. I didn’t have an ounce of fight left in me now. I didn’t want to fight any longer.

  In a passionate sweep, he tore off his sweater and tossed it atop my things. He stood to kick off his pants, too. Good god, he’d already ditched the underwear. I sucked in a ragged breath when his arousal sprang free, stretched and stiff and proud. I would never tire of seeing the effect I had on this man. It made my ego stand and curtsy. Yes, girlfriend. You did that to him.

  Before he could lower to me again, I was compelled to rush forward, instead. He was as breathtaking as a bronze Greek statue with the firelight dancing across his defined nudity—especially the steely staff between his thighs, glistening with the moisture that announced his body’s readiness for me.

  In a word, he looked…delicious.

  I have to taste him.

  Before Killian could protest, I knelt before him and took him in my hand. I savored every inch of his stalk in my fist before looking up, beholding his face in the most beautiful combination of agony and ecstasy.

  “You’ve slain me,” he grated. “Because honest to fuck, I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  I smiled up at him as I moved closer, sneaking a little lick of the drops on his tip before fully wrapping my mouth around his erection. H
is smell and flavor filled my senses, affecting me like an exotic drug, making me moan in appreciation. His head fell back as I slid my lips down his length, taking him into my throat as far as I could before having to stop.

  “Claire!” he rasped. “Sweet God, that’s so—”

  His own groan served as his interruption, strangled as if begging me to stop, but I didn’t heed. While tightening my lips, I flattened my tongue to the underside of his shaft before sliding back up to his cock’s dark purple head, licking generously at the crest when I reached it.

  Killian’s hands dug into my hair. He squeezed harder when I took him to the back of my throat, this time pumping my hand around the base and skimming my fingers across his heated sack. A few repetitions had him groaning my name—and my heart leaping with joy. The thrill of serving him like this, yet wielding such power over him…it was a giddy new sensation for me, and it intensified when he twisted his fingers into my hair, prickling my scalp with something close to pain. I snuck another look up, finding his eyes screwed shut as he panted for air. His chest, hard and gleaming as bronze in the firelight, was an even bigger turn-on to behold because of the erect pinpoints of his nipples.

  “Stop!” He stilled my movement by holding my face.

  I peered up at him with his cock still buried in my throat, feigning innocence in my wide eyes. “Hmm?”

  His eyes narrowed as if contemplating reprisal but he slid his flesh from my mouth, instead. “Stay right where you are.”

  He circled around, then fell to his knees behind me. “I need to be in this sweet pussy when I come—at least this time.” His tone was a devilish growl in my ear as he nudged his moist length against the entrance to my equally wet sex, prodding my aroused tissues, inciting more cream along my trembling inner passage.