The Accidental Princess

by Michelle Willingham

  She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, while she tried to show him what she felt. The desires she couldn’t voice, the forbidden yearning to steal whatever moments she could.

  At first, he didn’t kiss her back. But as she pressed her mouth to his, slowly tempting him to yield, she felt his arms tighten.

  His kiss was tentative at first, as though he weren’t sure she truly wanted him. Hannah gripped his neck, hoping he would respond to her invitation.

  ‘Don’t hold back from me,’ she whispered, when his mouth broke free from hers. ‘Not tonight.’

  Michael brought her against the door to one of the stalls, lifting her up while he kissed her hard. ‘I’m no good for you, Hannah.’

  ‘I don’t care any more. I need you.’ She held on tight, shuddering when his thigh slid between her legs. Hard and firm, he nudged her, making her ride him.

  Though anyone who happened upon them would only see a husband and a wife caught in an embrace, beneath her skirts, he made her feel completely vulnerable.

  ‘Take me back upstairs,’ she whispered.

  ‘In a moment.’ He took her mouth roughly, his hands dragging through her hair. Pins fell everywhere while he kissed her, his tongue teasing in the intimate act she feared. Her mouth was numb, swollen from his kiss, while she ached between her legs. When he pressed his thigh between her legs again, she couldn’t stop the shattered gasp that escaped. It was like the night upon the ship, only this time, the impact was far greater.

  That night, she’d suspected they would not become lovers. But now, she wasn’t certain how far she would let him go.

  Michael slid her down, touching his head to hers. ‘What are you doing, Hannah?’

  She shivered, fighting to catch her breath. ‘I think you know.’

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her outside the stable. Hannah knew the stable lad could have guessed what happened to her, for her hair was falling about her shoulders, her face flushed with unfulfilled need.

  When they reached the doors to the inn, Michael stopped short. ‘Go up to our room and wait for me there. I’ll only be a moment.’

  She fled up the stairs, not looking at any of the guests and praying they weren’t staring at her dishevelled appearance. When she reached her room, she took off her shoes again, blindly pulling at the remainder of pins that held up her hair.

  Oh, heaven. What was she about to do?

  She stared at the solitary bed and the flickering candle illuminating the small space. Everything about this room was primed for a seduction. One she wasn’t ready for.

  It was too easy, falling into his arms within the stable. Now that he’d given her a moment alone to think, her mind was screaming out every lecture her mother had ever given.

  Never let a man touch you, unless he is your husband. Not even a kiss. And especially never let him see so much as a bared ankle.

  The door opened, and Michael stood with something hidden behind his back. Hannah craned her neck to see what it was, and then spied a covered plate.

  Michael removed the cover and revealed a thick slice of cake with buttercream icing.

  Hannah didn’t smile, though it appeared mouth-watering. Glancing at the dessert, she mentioned, ‘You…forgot to bring a fork or a spoon.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  She didn’t know what he meant by that, but sensual images of him feeding her from his fingertips suddenly erupted in her mind.

  Michael set the plate down upon the dresser and closed the distance. He moved behind her, his hands upon the buttons of her gown. Though Hannah tried to relax, her skin had gone cold. It was easier to imagine surrendering to him when he was kissing her, not allowing her to think.

  Instead, his hands flicked over the buttons of her gown, one by one. Her mind was raging that she should stop him and hold fast to her innocence. Her body tensed as more and more skin was revealed.

  ‘I know you’re afraid,’ he whispered, dropping a kiss on her nape, ‘but you have no maid, and you cannot sleep in your corset.’

  He was offering her the choice, she realised. He would not ask for more than she was willing to give.

  ‘If you’d prefer, I could ask one of the maids downstairs to come up and assist you.’

  She let out a shaky breath. That would be the easiest course of action, but it would also raise unnecessary questions about why she wasn’t allowing her husband to unfasten her gown.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she managed. ‘You can help me.’ Her heartbeat clamoured in her chest, punctuating the indecision building up inside her.

  ‘Will you turn down the lamp?’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want you to see me.’

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he came around to face her. He made no further move to undress her, but the gown sagged about her shoulders. ‘Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?’

  ‘No. You can’t.’ Not only was it too expensive to hire out a second room, it wasn’t safe to be apart.

  He stepped back, waiting for her command. Hannah clutched the edges of her gown, as if trying to hold together the last remnants of her upbringing.

  Michael seemed to be weighing his own decision. In the end, he walked towards the hearth and sat down in one of the chairs, his gaze averted from her.

  It was like she’d already lost him. And it hurt, worse than anything she could imagine. This man had taken care of her when she’d needed him most. He didn’t live by the rules, but by his judgement. And she knew there would never be another man like him in her life.

  If she did marry, it would be to a titled lord who would expect her to bear his children. She’d met dozens of them over the last year, and not a single one would come close to the intense feeling she held for Michael Thorpe.

  She wanted to know him intimately. To feel his skin upon hers and to know that he cherished her. There was not a doubt in her mind that if she let him make love to her, it would be the worst sort of rule to break. It would also be wonderful.

  Her moments of freedom were slipping away, with every hour. This might be their only night together. And she wanted it, no matter that it was wrong. No matter that he could never be hers.

  Hannah let her gown slide down, baring her corset and chemise. She untied the petticoats, stepping free of them.

  The long walk across the room was the most frightening she’d ever taken. But in her heart, she knew she would hold regrets if she did not reach out to him now.

  In the candlelight, he would see every part of her body. Right now, shivers prickled over her skin as she walked in front of him. Wearing only her undergarments, she laid herself bare, offering herself.

  And still Michael didn’t move. His eyes stared into hers, as though he didn’t know what to think of her actions. Kneeling down before him, Hannah reached out to remove his coat. Her fingers shook as she untied his cravat and unbuttoned his waistcoat. Abruptly, Michael’s hands suddenly closed over hers.

  ‘You don’t want this, Hannah. I can see your fear.’

  She’d never been so bold in all her life, but more than anything else was the fear that he would turn her away.

  ‘I am afraid, yes. And I know that I should ask you for help with my corset and sleep far away from you.’

  He waited, and she touched her hand to his heart. Despite the calm mien he presented, his pulse was racing. ‘I know what I should do,’ she repeated again. ‘But I want this night. Give me a memory I’ll always have.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Her body tensed when Michael reached the laces that tightened her corset. He loosened the stays, and his fingertips caressed the thin fabric of her chemise. Almost instantly, her nipples puckered. As he helped her remove the corset, the stiff panel brushed against her breasts. A pang of arousal echoed within her core, and the awakening of desire began to silence the voices of her mother’s warnings and her conscience.

  Layers of clothing fell away until she wore only the thin chemise and drawers. Michael had removed his shirt
, and in the firelight, his bare skin was golden. She reached out to his wounded upper arm and saw that the angry skin was healing. The abrasions on his neck were also fading.

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  ‘Sweet, there’s only one thing I’m feeling right now. And it’s not the kind of pain you’re thinking of.’ He glanced up at the mantel. ‘The candlestick is there, if you need it to bash my head.’

  She almost smiled, but the overwhelming nerves were gathering strength. ‘How do you want to…do this?’ Perhaps if she had an idea of what was expected, she could calm the anxiety boiling inside her. ‘I don’t know what I am supposed to do.’

  ‘I’ll start by kissing you.’ His voice rumbled against her ear as he slid her chemise and drawers away. Before she could comprehend that she was no longer wearing anything at all, his mouth came down on hers.

  Hot, feverish feelings permeated her, sending flames of desire over every part of her body. Michael picked her up in his arms, laying her down upon the bed. Her hair fell across the pillow, and he caressed the length. A moment later, he turned around and removed his trousers and undergarments. She caught a glimpse of his taut backside, the rigid curve of his hip. When he turned around, he was holding the plate of cake and there was a wicked gleam in his eye.

  He wanted to eat, now? Confusion caught her sensibilities, making her wonder what he intended.

  Michael walked towards her naked, his erect manhood jutting forward. A flash of panic flew through her mind, for she couldn’t imagine him joining with her. He sat down beside her on the bed, setting the plate down.

  ‘Open your mouth,’ he ordered, breaking off a morsel of cake.

  A distraction. That’s what this was, she realised. Something to calm her down.

  She tasted the sweet creamy icing, but it did nothing to alleviate her apprehensions. Michael kissed her again, devouring the traces of buttercream from her lips. She clung to him, startled by the feeling of his bare skin upon hers. Her breathing quickened as he ran his palms down her spine and over the curve of her bottom.

  ‘I know I shouldn’t do this,’ he murmured, lowering his mouth to her shoulder, drifting downwards to her breast. ‘But I’ve given up trying to resist you.’ He dipped his finger into the cake icing and touched it to her nipple. ‘It’s too late now, sweet. I intend to spend the rest of the night taking you apart.’

  With that, he covered her nipple with his mouth, swirling against her skin with his tongue. He licked the icing off, sucking hard while she shuddered at the sensation. She was bending to him, growing moist between her legs.

  Michael turned his attention to the other breast, kissing it with the same attention while he flicked the erect bud of the first nipple with his fingers. Tormented by his touch, she fought to catch her breath.

  ‘You’re more delicious to me than any cake,’ he murmured. ‘I could taste you all day.’ His mouth drifted lower, down her stomach toward the soft hair covering her mound.

  His cheeks were smooth against her thighs, and she clamped her legs tight, afraid of what he might do next.

  He lifted his head up, staring at her. In the dim light, his hazel eyes held the warmth of chocolate, with green flecks. ‘I’m going to give you a night to remember, Hannah. Trust me.’

  He pressed a kiss upon her stomach, his hands reaching beneath her spine to her hips. He drew his palms over her bottom, pressing her close to his face.

  Oh, sweet God. He wouldn’t taste her there, would he?

  He dipped his finger into the icing, brushing a small amount upon her cleft. A moment later, her hands dug into the sheets, a keening cry erupting from her throat as he covered her intimate flesh with his mouth.

  He nibbled at her delicate skin, arousing her until she arched deeply, shaking with the ferocity of his wicked tongue.

  The rising crescendo of need burst forth in a release that made her cry out. She tried to sit up, but he held her down, her legs splayed as he worked her again with his mouth.

  ‘I can’t. Michael, I can’t do this. It’s too much.’

  In answer, he slid two fingers inside her wetness, stretching her. It sent her over the edge once more as he entered and withdrew.

  ‘Touch me,’ he urged, pulling her hand to his shaft. She had never felt a man’s flesh before and had never realised how soft and smooth it was. Her thumb caressed the tip, and she felt moisture there.

  As she dragged her hand along the length, she watched him hiss with pleasure. He let her explore him, feeling the change in skin texture, and the way he grew even harder in reaction to her touch. When she began to glide her hand up and down, he caught her wrist and pushed it aside. ‘Not tonight. This night is for you.’

  Michael turned her on to her side, while he came up behind her. Raising her leg over his, he placed his manhood between her thighs. ‘When you’re ready for me, I’m going to be inside you.’

  He cupped both of her breasts, nipping at her shoulder with his mouth. His thick erection nudged an inch within her, and Hannah trembled at the feeling. As he continued to caress her nipples, rolling the tips while he teased her wetness, she pleaded with him, ‘Michael, I need…something. But I don’t know what it is.’

  He moved his length between her legs. ‘Sweet, don’t rush. I want this to be good for you.’ Slowly, gently, he eased himself into her body. He didn’t force her, or hurt her. Just a gentle sliding, back and forth. The thickness of him was like a caress inside her body, each time going a little deeper. His thumb moved to the ridge at the top of her womanhood, stroking her while he sheathed himself partway inside her. ‘I want to see you come apart again,’ he murmured, coaxing the wet heat.

  Her body ached, squeezing him while he rubbed the small hooded opening. She felt herself rising up again, reaching for the intense pleasure. He held back from her, slowing his pace. Tears escaped her eyes, and she shivered violently against his hand.

  ‘Come for me,’ he commanded. And with another stroke of his hand, she soared. He pushed the rest of the way inside her, filling her up until they were fully joined. Though the fit was tight, she held him close, shocked at the wonder of it.

  Her hips arched as he pulled back and slid home once again. The tenderness of his penetration made her heart weep for this act of love.

  But she sensed he was holding back, trying not to hurt her. The position of being on her side felt too cautious, and she wanted him to know the same fulfillment.

  She eased away from him, lying on her back and bringing him atop her. With her hand, she guided him inside once more, raising her knees. ‘Take what you need from me, Michael.’

  His face turned to stone, his body growing harder within her. He plunged inside, quickening his pace. She gripped him, holding tight as he rode her hard.

  A moment later, he pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. He stood up, lifting her legs high while he filled her. His face transformed with his own pleasure, tight with suppressed need. She met each stroke with her hips, offering a counter-pressure. It wasn’t enough. Michael gripped her hard, thrusting his body inside her until at last, his face tightened, and he let out a low groan.

  He collapsed on top of her, their bodies still joined. Hannah felt a wetness from his warm seed, and she reached down to run her hands over his backside. She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him in a different sort of embrace.

  No wonder men and women never talked about this. She’d never dreamed that the intimacy would be this wild, this pleasurable.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, his voice husky.

  ‘I feel beautiful.’ And she did. Languid and relaxed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to be naked with a man.

  ‘Hungry?’ he prompted, withdrawing from her.

  ‘A little.’ She let him feed her cake from his fingertips, and she licked the icing, watching his eyes grow dark with desire once again.

  ‘You’re going to kill me if you keep looking at me like that.’ He ran his hands over her flesh. ‘I won’t be
able to get enough of you.’

  Hannah locked her arms around his neck. ‘I don’t mind.’

  Later that night, after he’d made love to her twice more, he straightened the bed sheets. ‘Time to sleep.’ She was about to curl up next to him when he dropped a pillow on top of her.

  ‘What is that for?’ She tried to move the pillow away, but he laid it in the centre of the bed. When she reached out, she felt the presence of the two pillows set lengthwise down the middle of the bed.

  ‘I’m setting up a barricade on the bed. You’ll sleep on your side, and I on mine.’

  A pillow barricade? What on earth?

  ‘You don’t want to sleep beside me?’ she asked, confused at the gesture. ‘Is something the matter?’

  ‘Sweet, if you come anywhere near me again, I won’t be responsible for what happens.’ His body weight settled on his side of the bed. ‘I’d suggest you stay over there, if you want any sleep at all.’

  She smiled in the darkness and huddled beneath the coverlet. Was he truly serious about being unable to resist her?

  A moment later, a hand nudged at her cheek. ‘You’re on my side,’ he said.

  ‘I’m on the edge of the bed! If I move any further, I’ll fall off,’ she protested.

  His leg tangled up in hers, beneath the pillow barricade. ‘You’re still on my side.’

  When she realised that his long leg was sprawled all the way across the bed, hanging off the end, she started to laugh. ‘If you had your way, this entire bed would be your side.’

  ‘It is. I’m just letting you borrow it.’ He withdrew his leg, his hand reaching for hers.

  Lying on her back with their palms entwined, Hannah released the laughter building up. ‘You don’t like to share, do you?’

  ‘Not at all. And I’ll never share you.’ His hand moved up to caress her face with his knuckles. And when at last, she heard the quiet sounds of his breathing, her heartbeat wouldn’t calm at all.

  For this was the sort of marriage she’d dreamed of. A handsome husband, teasing her. Making her feel beloved. Lying beside him at night, whispering secrets in the dark.