by Casey, Ember
I couldn’t just leave things as they were. Our evening was going so well before that bastard showed up.
Looking down at her now, I know I wasn’t the only one who felt it. Something changed between us earlier—her walls came down a little. And I was afraid the incident with James Camden would put them right back up again.
But Justine is responding to my touch. Every time my hand moves—even though I’m just barely grazing her body—I hear her breath quicken. When I pull back slightly, looking down into her face again, that flushed glow has come back to her cheeks, and there’s heat in her eyes.
I was telling the truth when I told her I hadn’t read most of her journals—and when I admitted that I’d still read enough to know a few of her most sensitive spots.
“Well?” I ask her. She still hasn’t answered my question.
“I…” Her voice trails off as I lower my head, bringing my mouth to her throat. Slowly, I kiss a path down the side of her neck, pausing right before my lips touch the small hollow at her collarbone. Her breath catches.
I want to drag this out. To tease her until she’s begging me for more. But then I remember her former lover, and I don’t have the patience for such games.
My mouth brushes against her sensitive spot. She makes a small sound—it couldn’t even be called a whimper—and her hand clutches my arm. I smile against her skin, then kiss her again. This time, I open my mouth slightly and let my tongue flick lightly against her. Her nails dig into my arm.
“And that’s only the first spot,” I murmur. My hand slides around her waist, pressing against her lower back. “There are dozens more, and I intend to explore every one of them tonight.”
She doesn’t reply, but her grip tightens and loosens in turn, as if she can’t decide whether to pull me closer or push me away.
I don’t say a word. Instead, my mouth moves along her collarbone, toward the place where her neck meets her shoulder. I pause there, sliding my tongue across her skin again, and I’m rewarded with a short gasp. I lick her there again.
“William…” Her voice is strangled.
I pull my mouth away from her skin but don’t lift my head. “Yes, Princess?”
She doesn’t respond.
“Tell me what you want,” I murmur. “Tell me.”
When she still doesn’t speak, I straighten and take her hand in mine. Carefully, I lift her hand to my lips and gently kiss her palm. Then the inside of her wrist. I can feel the dance of her pulse beneath the thin skin there. Slowly but steadily, I make my way up her arm, caressing her with my mouth, teasing her as I wait for her to tell me what she wants.
If she doesn’t tell me soon, I don’t know what I’ll do. My body is tense, waiting, aching to grab her and push her up against the wall and bring both of us to the peak of pleasure. But I won’t, not yet. Not until she asks me for it. Until she begs me for it.
“You know,” I say lazily, lowering her arm again. “Things are very different than the last time we shared an intimate moment.”
Her face is still red, her eyes still glowing with what I recognize as desire, but a flicker of confusion moves across her features, followed by irritation.
“This is all because of James, isn’t it?” she says.
Hearing her say his name—right now, of all moments—sends a flash of jealousy through me, but I try to push it aside.
“No, I mean because of your emotions,” I tell her. “Last time, you were distressed—even when you told me what you wanted, I felt like I would be taking advantage.”
Her eyebrow rises. “And this time?”
“This time,” I say, slipping a finger beneath her chin, “I hope you give me every opportunity to take advantage.” I lower my face toward hers, stopping just shy of a kiss. “Ask me for whatever you want, Princess, and I will give it.”
She hesitates, but I’m too close to see her expression. “You want me to beg you.”
“I want you to tell me exactly what you want.” So that I know it’s me you want.
“I begged you last time, and that—”
“As I’ve already said, this isn’t last time. I have no intention of sleeping on the sofa tonight, Princess. And no intention of stopping after merely a taste of you.” My fingers curl gently around her throat. “I’ll tell you what I want, Justine—I want to fuck you. I want to bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own name, that you forget what it feels like when I’m not there. I want to feel your skin against mine. I want to hear you cry out in pleasure and know that I am the source of it.” Heat rises through me, and I pull my face back slightly, trying to restrain myself. “But I won’t do any of that—not until you ask for it.”
“Then maybe you won’t get to do any of it at all,” she whispers.
“Maybe?”
She takes a step back. “Maybe.”
There’s something in her eyes—something almost playful.
She’s teasing me, damn her—she’s toying with me! Somehow I’ve lost the power in this situation, and she’s taking full advantage.
“What will you do if I tell you I want you to leave?” she asks me.
My body tenses. “Do you want me to leave?”
“That’s not what I said. I asked you a question.”
There has to be some way to regain the upper hand, but it doesn’t help that looking at her like this—with her eyes bright and that teasing smile on her lips—just makes my blood burn hotter.
“If you asked me to leave,” I say slowly, “I’d just have to do a better job of convincing you that it would be a shame for both of us.”
“Are you that good at fucking?”
I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us again. “There’s only one way to find out, Princess.”
Her smile never wavers, but she swallows—and that one, tiny reaction tells me I’ve wrestled back some of the power.
“The question is,” I say roughly, reaching up and touching her cheek, “are you brave enough to take that step?”
She stares up at me for a long moment. It feels like an eternity, and I’m barely able to maintain my control—it’s been an uphill battle since the moment I saw her tonight, but even more so since James Camden appeared. My body throbs with the need to make her mine, to prove to both of us that she belongs to me and no one else.
Finally, after what feels like years, she reaches up and grips the back of my neck.
“Show me,” she whispers. And then she pulls my face down to hers.
Justine
His lips crash against mine, and a moment later, he picks me up by my waist and carries me to the bed.
I want him. More than I would ever admit to him out loud and more than I would care to admit to myself. And it isn’t how it was a few weeks ago. That night, I wanted to be fucked. Tonight, I want William to fuck me.
I want William.
Damn it.
He pulls his lips from mine for only a moment to pull my nightgown over my head. This isn’t the first time he’s seen my breasts, but anyone would think it was by the way he’s looking at me.
I grab the front of his shirt and begin working at the buttons. He pulls it over his head after the third button is freed, tossing it to the side of the bed.
He lowers himself onto me again, and even though his pants are still on, I can tell he’s already rock hard. His scent overwhelms me—I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. Missed him.
He kisses my neck for only a moment before pulling away. “You’re sure?”
“Very.” If he only knew how very…
He chuckles. “Have I told you how beautiful you are—?”
“Too much talking.” I reach for his shoulders and pull him toward me. My body is on fire. I want him—need him. Now.
“Fine. Then I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want me.”
I groan. “I’ve already said—”
“I want to hear you say you want me. Me.”
I nod, though part of me is rea
dy to punch him in frustration. “I want you.”
“Say it again, and this time use my name.”
I groan again as I reach for the buckle on his pants. “I want you. You, William. Only you. And if you don’t give me what I want pretty damn soon, I dare say you may very well regret it.”
He helps me remove his pants before he kicks them to the side of the bed. “Well, I can’t very well argue with that, now can I? What my princess wants, my princess gets.” He slowly…slowly…lowers himself on top of me again and begins kissing the side of my throat, just above the spot he seems to know will make me beg him for more.
His tongue flicks against my skin for a few moments before he pulls away again, looking down into my eyes. “I think—”
“I think there is far too much talking going on here.”
He groans when I slide my hands up his back, digging my fingernails into his skin as I try to pull him closer.
He finally falls silent as his lips press against mine. But he only kisses me there for a moment. His hands slide down my sides to my waist as his lips find my neck, and he finally—finally—returns to kissing that spot just above my collarbone.
I gasp and pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist as I arch my body to his, showing him exactly how much I want him. Need him.
He seems to understand, perhaps because he wants me just as much, but he takes his sweet time kissing his way lower before he finally finds my breast. His lips linger there for a moment, his tongue flicking against my nipple. His hands slide down to my thighs, removing my legs from around his waist as he kisses ever so slowly lower…and lower. He sits up slightly to remove my panties, and I kick them over the side of the bed.
He pulls my legs apart and traces his way with a single finger from my belly button to my folds. He seems to take great delight in teasing me, touching me everywhere but my most sensitive area.
I feel I might explode if he ever does touch me where I need it, he’s taken so long. His fingers finally slide into me, first one, then another, and he seems to know exactly how to touch me there, too.
He works his fingers inside me for a moment. “Tell me what you want, Princess.”
I want so much. I want him inside me, of course, but there’s more than that. I want him to hold me and never let me go. I want him to protect me and cherish me and…more. Much more.
I’m not sure I can even speak. And what comes out when I open my mouth is little more than a squeak.
“Tell me.” He presses his fingers inside me and I’m certain he’s going to push me over the edge if this continues much longer.
“I…” I can’t seem to form words. My breaths are coming too fast, and his fingers haven’t slowed in the slightest. And my breaths are nothing compared to the hammering of my heart in my ears. “God…William…”
“I’m going to remember you referred to me as God, Princess.” His lips finally find my most sensitive spot, and when his tongue begins to expertly work against it, my fingers tangle in his hair as I tumble over the edge of my passion.
My eyes are squeezed shut, but I feel him kiss his way up my body again after he releases me, finally reaching that spot above my collarbone again.
He kisses me there for a moment as his arms slide around me, one hand finding my ass. “Tell me again, Princess.”
I’m still breathing far too heavily to speak much, but my eyes flutter open so that my gaze finds his. “You, William. I want you.”
He grins before his mouth comes down on mine, and he finally gives me exactly as I’ve asked.
I moan as his cock thrusts into me, and I wrap my legs around him again, urging him inside me.
And he delivers, again and again and again, bringing me to the edge again. His lips drop to my neck as he reaches between my thighs, his thumb skimming over my sensitive nub.
“Come for me, Princess.”
And I oblige, moaning his name as he brings me to the height of passion once more. It’s only a moment later that he finds his own ending, groaning into my neck. He thrusts into me a few final times before rolling to my side.
It takes us both a moment to find our breath, but as soon as he does, he pecks a kiss on my lips as he slides an arm under me, pulling me into his chest. “That was…” He kisses me again, a little harder this time.
I pull away enough to speak. “Worth the wait?”
He sighs. “So much more than that.”
I nod against his chest, closing my eyes. Perhaps it was worth the wait. We certainly fought each other long enough to earn it. And there’s something very fulfilling about this moment, something that makes me wonder if I might feel more for this man than just lust.
He slides his other arm around my waist and holds me. A moment later, he chuckles, bringing his hand to my face. He tips my chin up so that we make eye contact again. “You know, Princess…”
“Hm?” I’m still in some sort of haze of ecstasy, and I’m not sure I could argue with him now if I wanted to. And right now, I definitely don’t want to. I think I could allow him to hold me in his arms like this forever.
“I was just thinking…”
“Mm.” I smile, though my eyes can still barely open.
He kisses my forehead. “I was thinking that maybe we just made that first male heir.”
William
She stiffens in my arms, and I know immediately I’ve said the wrong thing.
She tries to pull away from me, but I keep my arms around her.
“I was only joking,” I say lightly. “Just joking.”
“That didn’t sound like a joke,” she says, wiggling her way out of my arms.
“Well, you have to admit that, joke or not, there’s still a chance that—”
“I think you should leave.” She sits up, pulling the sheets up to cover her chest. All the warmth and affection I saw in her face only moments ago is gone—her walls have gone up again.
“Justine,” I say softly, gently. I reach out to touch her cheek.
She flinches away from me. “Please, just go.”
I start to rise, then stop. “Justine, it’s late. We should just go to sleep and discuss this more in the morning—”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” she says. “When and if I have any children is not for you to decide.”
I’m about to remind her how biology works, but I know that won’t help my case with her right now.
“Forgive me, Princess. I didn’t mean to imply that I was deciding anything for you. I shouldn’t have said it at all. I just made a rather unfortunate joke.” I lower myself back down to the bed. “Please, Justine—can we just forget I ever said it?”
She stares at me for a long moment, and I curse my stupid, reckless tongue—I should have known better than to start talking about children right after our first time together. Tonight wasn’t about the future—it was about this moment, about finally coming together, and I somehow managed to push her away again, to force her to throw the walls right back up.
After a moment, she lowers herself back down onto the bed beside me, but the look in her eyes is still wary. I’ve managed to spoil the connection we’d finally found between us.
“We should sleep,” she says softly.
I nod. “Sleep.”
I reach across the bed, pulling her back into my arms, and though she doesn’t object, her body is stiffer than it was before. She’s fighting me, whether she means to or not.
With a soft sigh, I fold myself gently around her, spooning her with my face against her hair. I ache to bring her back, to draw her back into that little bubble of intimacy we had a moment ago.
She knows that people expect her to have children, I think. And that it’s possible she will conceive, now that we’ve been together. Why is she so upset to hear me say it?
She doesn’t say another word. As the minutes tick by, her breathing slows. I know she’s gone to sleep when I feel her body finally relax fully against mine. In slumber, at least, the walls fall away.
One step forward, two steps back, I think, brushing my thumb gently against her skin. But at least I get to hold her in my arms tonight.
With that thought, sleep finally overtakes me, too.
* * *
When I wake, I reach for her. Her side of the bed is cold.
I sit up abruptly, looking around. Sun is pouring in through the window.
“Justine?” I call. There’s no sign of her anywhere in the suite.
Quickly, I pull my clothes on. Memories of last night come flooding back. I’m not sure what I expected to happen this morning, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Justine didn’t decide to stay in my arms when she woke.
Once I’m dressed, I stumble out of the suite and the few steps down the corridor to her office. I freeze in the doorway.
Justine’s office is a bustle of activity. Justine herself sits behind her desk, but she isn’t the only one here—there are half a dozen others, some talking amongst themselves, others waiting to speak with Justine. For a moment, I just watch her. For all that her father and brother seem to believe she’s incompetent, the woman in front of me is anything but. She moves and behaves like a woman born to do this—the way she listens to person after person, never missing a beat as she makes quick decisions and dispenses orders, is something of a marvel to watch. She’s a natural—and she does it all with a grace and a passion that is simply, inspiringly beautiful.
My wife listens intently to a woman with a stack of papers under her arm, nodding every few words until the woman is done.
“We should switch the rooms for Session A and Session B,” Justine says. “That sounds like the easiest solution.”
The woman nods. “Right away, Your Highness.” She hurries out of the room, almost bumping into me on her way out.
Justine has already moved on to the next person. “Gustav, have you finalized the guest list for the—” Her voice cuts off when her eyes land on me in the doorway. The man she’s speaking to turns to see what’s caught her attention, and then he bows with a quick, “Your Highness.”