by Zoey Oliver
Abi tucks a strand of hair behind her right ear and blushes modestly. “Thanks.”
She looks way too good for Finley — too good for me, too, if I’m honest. But that shy smile, it makes my heart skip a beat. I’m living for that smile these days.
“Where is Finley?” Abi looks past me to the parking lot and frowns. “His car is gone.”
“Oh, he had to leave.” I give her a reassuring smile. “But I’ll make sure you get back safely. I’ll call for a car right now.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, but she puts her hand on mine.
“Don’t. It’s a lovely evening, why don’t we walk?”
The doors of the clubhouse burst open, and half a dozen people spill out onto the walkway, laughing and talking loudly. When they see me, they immediately get quiet and walk by us single file with their heads down. I automatically square my shoulders and straighten my spine, just as my predecessors have done for a millennia, as I modestly accept the respect of my subjects.
“Your Grace,” the first gentleman says, looking up briefly to nod at me.
I nod back. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
A blonde-haired woman gives a small curtsy as she walks by. “Yes, we did, Your Highness, thank you.”
They proceed out to the parking lot, and I turn back to Abi.
“I’m sorry, you were saying…?”
“Let’s walk back to the palace,” she says with a smile.
“I have a better idea.”
“Oh?”
Car doors open and shut behind me, and I look over my shoulder, watching as two cars pull out of the parking lot. All clear. I step closer to Abi and rub a finger against the smooth red fabric hugging her stomach.
I lean into her and whisper, “You look so delicious right now, all I can think about is lifting that dress up.”
She bites her lip and looks up at me. “And doing what?”
“Kissing every inch of those sexy legs.”
Abi nestles closer to me, her breasts brushing my chest, the full skirt of her dress pressed against my legs. “And then what?”
“Licking your sweet pussy until you come on my face.”
A shiver runs through her, and she smiles wickedly, leaning into me harder. “Let’s get somewhere, fast,” she whispers, a naughty gleam in her eyes.
Chapter 15
ABIGAIL
“I know a place, just over this hill. Let’s go,” Henry says, nodding to the knoll rising steeply on the other side of the parking.
We start walking quickly across the parking lot, into the grassy hillside beyond. When we reach the soft grass, I pause for a second to slip off my heels and grasp them by the straps in one hand while Henry takes my other hand in his. We walk up the incline, leaning into it, our feet slipping now and then against the steep bank. Henry holds my hand tight, ensuring that I don’t fall, and finally we reach the crest of the hill.
At the top, I glance around. To our right, in the distance, is the palace, aglow with dozens of lights from the windows and exterior sconces. In front of us, several hundred feet away, is the silhouette of a large building and beyond it, a faint shimmer of rippling light — the boathouse and the lake.
“What do you think?” Henry asks.
I give him a sly look. “I think… you need to get me naked as soon as possible.”
“Well, stop standing here talking to me and start moving that fine ass toward the dock, my Lady.” He slaps me playfully on the rear, and I squeal.
Just then, a large raindrop splatters me on the nose, and another lands in my eyelashes.
Henry looks up at the sky. “We have about three seconds before we’re soaked.”
“First one to the lake gets to call the shots!” I yell. I don’t wait for his response. I take off running down the slope as fast as my legs will carry me, the hem of my dress kicking up in the breeze, my shoes bouncing wildly by the straps in my hand.
It’s only seconds before Henry passes me, shooting toward the water’s edge like a missile, his powerful legs no match for my own. But a moment later, he slows down, turns, and jogs back.
“I don’t care who calls the shots,” he says with a wink, grabbing my hand. “As long as we’re together. Come on!”
The rain is pouring down on us now, and we’re flying down the hill hand in hand, Henry leading the way, my bare feet digging into the wet grass. We pass the boathouse on the left and head straight to the dock.
“What are we doing?” I ask loudly when we finally stop on the large wooden platform, straining my voice to be heard over the roar of rain. “The boathouse is right there, it’ll be warm and dry.”
He grabs my face and kisses me, his lips firm and urgent against mine. I start to sink into his embrace, but he pulls back, looking into my eyes as the rain beats down on us.
“I want to be alone with you. Really, truly alone. Just us.”
He crouches at the edge of the dock, quickly untying a large rope. He unties a second rope and throws it onto the deck of a small boat. “This one isn’t fancy,” he yells over his shoulder, “it’s just a small weekender, but it’s reliable.”
Henry reaches his hand out and steadies me as I hop onto the boat. He’s right behind me and already has the engine going by the time I stumble to a seat.
He grabs a life jacket from a bin under one of the seats and hands it to me. “Put this on and then hang on, okay? These seats are slippery when it’s raining.”
I nod solemnly and slip the lifejacket on quickly, buckling it and tightening the straps before wrapping my hands around the metal railing next to my seat.
He puts the boat into gear, backing slowly away from the dock. Drops of water are hammering against my face, but I can’t take my eyes off of Henry. He’s standing behind the wheel as steady as a statue, expertly navigating us into open water, an intensity on his face that I haven’t seen before.
Soon, we’re clear of the harbor and zipping across the water. I cling to the railing as my hair twists into a whirlwind behind me. Once we’re going fast enough, the glass partition begins diverting the sting of the rain away from my face and I laugh with the full delight of my inner child, set free here on the lake tonight as I savor the thrill of being whisked away by Henry.
It’s just him and me.
And I want to soak in every moment of it
I briefly wonder where Henry’s supposed to be right now instead of out on the lake with me, if his security team is currently searching the palace grounds in a frenzy, and if Emily is waiting up for me to return from my dinner with Finley. But as we race across the water I let all those thoughts go and throw my head back, filling my lungs with the fresh, humid night air, all my worries growing distant, left behind.
After several minutes, Henry pulls back on the throttle, and the boat slows, bobbing slightly as the wake catches up with us. I glance over my shoulder, but I can’t see anything other than choppy water behind us. The mist of the rain has hidden the palace from view.
Henry drops down to cruising speed as he guides the boat through a narrow channel.
“Watch your head!” he yells.
The bank on either side is so close, the tree limbs have formed a tunnel of sorts. I duck to avoid overhanging branches that scrape against the glass partition, and a moment later, we slip through the channel, emerging into a small cove.
“Very few people ever come here,” Henry says. “This is the only boat that can get through that channel.”
When we reach the center of the cove, he presses the button to release the anchor and cuts the engine. I unbuckle my life jacket and lay it at my feet.
“Now,” he says, “I believe the rule was, whoever made it to the dock first gets to call the shots, yes?”
“Hey, you said it didn’t matter!”
He shrugs, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “What can I say, I play dirty.”
“No fair!” I protest, hands on my hips.
My indignation doesn’t faze him. In one move, he steps forward and lifts me up,
one hand under my back, the other under my knees.
I throw my arms around his neck and clutch him tightly. “You better not be about to throw me in the water, Henry!”
“Oh, I’m going to get you wet all right,” he growls, carrying me into the small cabin under the deck.
Once we’re out of the rain, Henry strips both our damp clothes off and kisses me from head to toe, taking his time. Even though it’s late and the sound of the rain beating against the boat is soothing, I’m far too wound up to feel sleepy.
He rolls over on his back and pulls me to him, lifting me onto his lap, where his hard, swollen erection awaits. Instinctively, I stiffen, squeezing my thighs together to keep myself upright, and put my hands out, pushing against his chest.
“We can’t,” I say, because it’s what is required of me, but my words don’t match anything… not the thoughts in my head, not the reaction my body has to his touch, not the heat between my legs.
My ability to resist him is already so weak, and every time we’re together, it’s slipping away more and more. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, but it’s not up to me. There’s too much riding on my virginity to give into a moment of temptation. But oh, it would feel so good to just give in…
“It’s okay,” Henry reassures me, deep sincerity in his voice. “That’s not what I have in mind.”
Dammit, Henry. Why do you have to be such a gentleman with me? Just take me, already! I’d love nothing more than to have him pull my hips down, push me onto his beautiful cock, and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow. The devil on my shoulder, that live-like-there’s-no-tomorrow part of me, really wants him to just go for it. I know all my resistance would melt away the second he slid into me.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he lowers me onto his thighs, his erection pointing up between my legs, tickling against the lower part of my stomach.
“Damn, woman. Now that is a heavenly sight.”
“Oh?” I wrap my fingers around his cock and stroke him, gliding my hands up and down his long, firm shaft. I love his cock, so thick and hot in my hands.
He moans, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of my hips. He grasps my hips and pulls me forward, his cock sliding under me slowly, rubbing against my slippery wetness. Then he pushes my hips back and repeats it.
I get the hang of what we’re doing and begin thrusting my hips in rhythm with the movement of his hands on my hips. His shaft is hot and firm underneath me, and it feels so good gliding against my clit.
“If I can’t be inside of you, this is the next best thing,” he says, watching my face intensely.
“It’s good,” I whisper, feeling drunk on pleasure, savoring the feelings of his naked skin against mine, his firm cock beneath me, our bodies working in unison. “So good.” Moan after moan escapes me, and my breath quickens as we both pick up the pace.
He moves his hands to my ass, gripping me tightly as he lets out a long groan. “Fuck, yes,” he says, his voice deep and husky with passion, “rub your pretty pussy on my cock.”
I blush at his dirty talk, but the words send a pulse of heat right to the center of my pelvis. No toy I’ve ever tried feels as wonderful as his thickness between my thighs. Spreading my hands on his chest, I steady myself and tilt my hips forward, grinding my swollen clit against him even harder. I want to slide his stiff shaft inside me and ride him so bad, I’m practically vibrating.
His hands move to my chest, squeezing and cupping my breasts, his fingers playing with my nipples. My breathing is ragged, and a tremble runs through me as an orgasm draws near.
Henry doesn’t miss a thing. He pulls me to his chest and whispers in my ear. “Come for me, baby.”
His hands return to my ass, and he begins thrusting his pelvis, bringing his knees up for leverage, as if he were really fucking me, the rhythm steady and powerful.
“Yes, yes!” My cry fills the small space, and his pace quickens. I wrap my arms around his neck and surrender to his movements as he uses his strong body and hard, hot cock to bring me to climax.
The rain has finally stopped, and the clouds have moved out, revealing a dark sky full of glittery stars. Henry had unfolded a dry tarp on the deck of the boat, and we’re lying on it, wrapped in a blanket, looking up at the heavens.
The air is cool from the rain, and a light breeze is drifting over us, but Henry’s hot body is snuggled up next to mine under the blanket. It could be snowing buckets on us right now, and I wouldn’t care.
Neither of us has said anything in a long while. The silence is comfortable, but the quiet night air is filled with a million things I want to say, but don’t dare.
I know Henry’s not the kind of guy who does romantic feelings — not the silly, sentimental kind, not the deep, forever and ever kind, and not the complicated, messy, desperate kinds. So, he definitely doesn’t want to hear about all these sticky, messy, desperate feelings I’ve been having. And I’m not supposed to be having them in the first place, so it’s best just to keep my mouth shut and not ruin the fun we’re having together.
“We should head back soon,” I whisper.
“We should,” he agrees, but he doesn’t move.
I tilt my head up to look at him. “A while longer?”
He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “A while longer.”
Chapter 16
HENRY
“Your Highness?”
I turn to my right and see an attractive, tall, blonde woman. I recognize her instantly, and my heart sinks. Dammit. Renetti Casmond, the Duchess of Havenwood. We have a history I’d rather not be reminded of, especially not now, with Abigail in the same room.
It’s early evening, and everyone has once again gathered in the ballroom for dancing and drinks after dinner. I’ve had several out of town engagements to attend and haven’t had more than a few minutes alone with Abi since our boating adventures a few days ago, but I’m looking forward to seeing her later tonight, once the festival goers have departed and the overnight guests have retired to their own rooms.
Spencer was here briefly, but has long since departed to the study and its supply of imported liquor. He’s spent most of his time there since arriving at the palace, when he’s not off with his new-found circle of questionable friends. I don’t know what brand of trouble he’s cooking up these days, but the changes I see in him make me uneasy.
“Hello, Lady Casmond.” I summon all the manners I can and give her a half smile, which is quite generous considering the role she’s played in feeding gossip to the press about me.
“I’ve been wondering where you’ve been hiding. I’ve rarely spotted you at the festival activities.”
I nod, a smile still plastered on my face, trying to be polite. “I’ve been quite busy.”
She steps closer — too close for my liking — and touches me on the shoulder. “You know, we should arrange a time to catch up. It’s been a while since we’ve… chatted, hasn’t it? Perhaps this evening, after the dance?”
“I don’t think so.”
I know she’s hunting for something, anything juicy. She’d hit paydirt if she found out about Abi, and I won’t let that happen. I don’t need an ounce of press coverage right now, and I definitely won’t have Abigail’s quiet life pulled into the harsh glare of the media’s spotlight because of my past behavior.
“Oh?” She runs her finger down my arm. “Then maybe tomorrow night?”
“My schedule is very full these days, Renetti.” I grit my teeth, struggling to resist the urge to knock her hand away, but that would cause a scene, and the last thing I want is to draw attention to this unwelcome conversation.
She makes an exaggerated pout, her blonde hair falling across her face as she dips her head and sticks out her lips a mile. “Well, then maybe I should just sit down here and join you right now.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say. I look away, hoping she’ll get the hint and leave. I scan the dance floor for Abigail. Last I saw her, she was near the back, talki
ng to several women.
The Duchess is still hovering next to me stubbornly when I see a familiar figure at a table across the room. Gigi! Known as Mrs. Abigail Amesbury to everyone else, I’ve called her Gigi since I was a toddler, back when she was first hired as my nanny and I couldn’t wrap my little tongue around her first name properly, so Abigail came out as Gigi, and it stuck. I haven’t seen her since early summer, at the Rose Gala.
I turn back to Renetti. “Excuse me, Lady Casmond, I see someone I need to speak with.”
Instead of stepping aside to let me up, she leans down to me and bats her eyelashes. “But I’m sure I can convince you to make some time for me later… maybe I should jog your memory?”
When she reaches a hand toward my lap, I stand up hastily, nearly knocking my chair over.
She recoils in surprise and blinks. “Your Highness?”
Without replying, I leave her standing by my table in shock at my abrupt departure. A year ago, I might have indulged her, as I was known to do from time to time. She’s not a bad looking woman, and I wasn’t one to turn down an offer back then. But now my interest is less than zero, and I don’t want her anywhere near me.
I circle around the edge of the ballroom and duck into an unoccupied alcove. I pull out my phone and call Pierre, my chief of security.
“Yes, your highness?”
“The Duchess of Havenwood — can you have someone keep an eye on her? She’s snooping for a story, making rounds in the ballroom. Make sure she doesn’t get anywhere near Lady Strathmore.”
“Yes, of course, sir. I’ll see to it right away.”
“Thank you, Pierre.”
I return my phone to my breast pocket and continue to the other side of the dance floor. When I approach Mrs. Amesbury’s table, I see her struggling with the silver tongs for a bowl of sugar cubes.
I take a few steps forward and scoop the sugar bowl off the table. “May I help?”
A smile spreads across her face when she looks up. “Henry!” she pushes her chair back and reaches her arms out. I dive in for a deep hug. I don’t care how improper it might be — I will always give my Gigi the biggest hug I can muster, I don’t care who’s watching.