She pulled back right away, flicking her tongue over him one last time. “You taste so good,” she said, licking her lips. “I want more.”
Dear God, this woman was going to be the death of him.
“Not now.” He closed his fist over his cock, squeezing. Her eyes flared wide. “Ass up, Princess. It’s my turn.”
She rolled over and braced her hands on the table. “Yes, sir.”
“Legs apart.”
She spread her legs. He slapped her lightly, then spun her around and fell to his knees in front of her. Reaching out, he parted her lips, and flicked his tongue over the entrance of her pussy.
Tensing, she cried out beneath him. “May I come?”
“Hm.” He thought about it. “Yes.”
“O-Okay.”
“But first…” He slapped her ass again, watching the red mark spread over her pale, smooth skin. “You have to beg me, Princess. Once you beg, you can come.”
She gripped the table. “Make me.”
“Gladly.”
He went down on her, thrusting his tongue inside of her. Her juices coated his mouth, and he groaned. Pulling out, he closed his mouth around her clit and moved his tongue in slow, lazy circles.
“Gordon.”
He kept up his slow pace, making sure he was barely touching her. She writhed against him, pumping her hips and thrusting her ass back. He slapped the side of her thigh, increasing the pressure just enough to drive her insane. She screamed and dug her nails into the table.
When her pussy clenched tight, he pulled back and bit down on her ass gently. “You know what to do,” he said, skimming his fingers down her inner thigh. “You want me to make you come, Princess. You want that explosion of pleasure you know I can give you. You know what to do…”
“Please.” She drew in a ragged breath, a small sob escaping her. “Please take me. Spank me. Fuck me. Please, please, please!”
Satisfied, he leaned in and rolled his tongue over her with the perfect amount of pressure. As he made love to her with his mouth, he slapped her ass—since she’d asked so nicely. She cried out, her pussy clenching down tight.
He deepened his intimate kiss, and within seconds, she came. He stood up, flipped her onto her back, and positioned himself between her legs. “We’re engaged. I’m clean.”
A broken sound escaped her. “I am, too.”
“Are you on the pill?”
She nodded frantically. “Do it.”
Tilting her hips up with his hands, he thrust into her with one solid stroke. She made the hottest sound he’d ever heard before, arching her back and clawing at his chest. He moved inside of her, keeping his stroke clean and even. Her eyes squeezed shut, and he reached between their bodies and stroked her clit.
She went off like a wild woman, kicking and screaming and coming apart in his arms. As her tight pussy clamped down on his dick, he moved faster. Harder. Deeper.
His balls tightened to his body, and he lowered himself so he could kiss her, inhaling her sweet scent as he made love to her. Her hands cradled his face, her touch tender once more, and then he came explosively. She closed her legs around him, keeping him where she wanted him.
They lay like that for a while, until his breathing was no longer erratic. Once they fell back down to Earth, he carried her to the bed and curled up with her. Their bodies were as entwined as their fingers were. He stared at the sparkling diamond on her hand.
She was his. Actually his. Hell, she was even wearing his ring, and it looked beautiful on her finger. He’d made sure to get the right size and everything.
Nothing but the best for his Belle.
She shivered, so he pulled a sheet up over their bodies. When she settled into the crook of his arm, letting out a loud yawn, he grinned and kissed the top of her head. He’d been a little tougher on her this time around, dragging their lovemaking out longer than ever before, but the end result had been worth it.
He had the scratches down his back to prove it, too.
Lazily, she traced a pattern on his bicep, following the black lines of his snake tattoo. It had been his first one. It wrapped around the whole upper half of his arm, the scales all vibrant colors of green, yellow, and brown. “What are the numbers from?”
“It’s the day my mother died,” he said, knowing instantly what she was asking. “I got it the day after her funeral.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, resting her hand over the ink.
“I know.” He kissed her temple. “She would have loved you.”
“I bet that I would’ve loved her, too.”
“You two are very alike.” He smiled against her temple. “Both strong willed, loving, determined, and willing to drop anything to help people. If she’d been a princess, she would have done anything for her people, too. Just like you.”
“Speaking of which…we have to tell the people about us,” she murmured. “I’m sure my parents will have some smart way to present it.”
He swallowed. “Actually…they kind of already know.”
“What?” She rose up on her elbow, her narrowed eyes piercing into him. “You guys already told the country? How? When? Where was I?”
“This little trip your fiancé sent you on?”
Her lips pursed. “Yeah…”
“Well,”— he rubbed his forehead— “that was my way of getting you away from the TV’s. I didn’t want you to know I was coming till I could talk to you in person.”
She stared at him. He didn’t know whether she was really pissed or just not sure what to say. His heart thudded in his ears, and he shifted his weight beneath her.
“You assumed I’d accept your proposal.”
“I followed a hunch,” he said. “Just like your mom did when she came to see me. I had faith that what we had together was real enough for us to be together. For us to be happy. I believed in us.”
Her mouth tightened, but then quirked up in a smile. “I like that. You believed in us.”
“I did.” He cupped her cheek tenderly, memorizing the way she watched him. All wide eyes, soft smile, and happiness. This was what he’d wanted. To make her happy. “I do. I always will.”
She kissed him gently. “Me, too, Gordon. Me, too.”
Sighing, he cuddled her close as she rested her head on his chest. His heart swelled, and he closed his eyes. This was it. This is what he’d been looking for when he’d left the corps…love.
Even if he hadn’t known it at the time.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Isabelle sighed and checked the time. She’d been in this meeting with the Ambassador for over an hour now, and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go back to her room, find Gordon, and curl up beside him. He’d been her rock for the past year, always there for her when she needed him.
And, man, she needed him now.
Because she felt awful.
The ambassador leaned closer, pointing at a map that had been spread out in front of her. “After that, we’ll make a stop in Linnea, and then England.”
“Mmhm.”
She swallowed hard, nausea hitting her like a tsunami. She swirled her wedding band on her finger, a nervous habit she’d started lately. Princesses don’t fidget, her mother’s voice said in her head. The hell they don’t, Gordon’s voice argued.
She kept twisting the ring.
Her stomach rolled like a tidal wave, and she swallowed hard. This wasn’t going to end well. She knew it. The only question was: how long until she could no longer hold the impending explosion of the contents of her stomach back?
“And then after that, we’ll—” He froze, looking at her with a wrinkled brow. His gray hair stuck up like usual, and he’d smeared a bit of pen across his nose. “Are you all right, Princess? You look a little…green.”
“I’m not—” She swallowed down yet another rise of bile. She was obviously coming down with something. Princesses don’t vomit in public. For once, she agreed with her mother. “I need to go.
Now.”
“But—”
“If I don’t leave now, I’m going to throw up all over your maps.” She stood and rested her hands on the wood table. “And you. I need to go now.”
He nodded. “Quite right. Off you go, then. We’ll finish later.”
She walked serenely to the door…until her stomach roiled again.
Then she ran to her bedroom, not looking anyone in the eye, one hand pressed to her stomach and the other to her mouth. When she reached her bedroom, she threw the door open and bolted inside.
Gordon sat at the desk, a bunch of papers in front of him. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, and his suit jacket lay across the top of his desk chair. He’d been studying her country’s policy on immigration when she’d left.
Looked like he was still at it.
“Hey. You’re done early.” He glanced up, a big smile on his face. “Looks like it’s time—shit. What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer. Just bolted for their private bathroom. As soon as she squatted in front of the toilet…well, it wasn’t pretty. At all. Her stomach rebelliously booted everything she’d eaten in the last five hours…and then some.
When it was over, she looked up.
Gordon was at her side, a warm washcloth in his hand. “Man, what the hell was that? Did you eat something bad for breakfast while I was in that meeting with your dad?”
“No. I think I’m getting sick.” She took the washcloth and dabbed it across her mouth, then unsteadily rose to her feet. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she collapsed against the tile wall. “Or I guess I could have eaten something bad. Who knows?”
Eyeing her speculatively, he crept his arm around her waist. “Yeah, maybe.”
He helped her over to the sink, where she washed her hands, face, and brushed her teeth. After she felt human again, she dried off and glanced at Gordon. He watched her with a small smile. “Why are you smiling? I feel like I’m dying.”
“I’m smiling because I think you’re not getting punished for a long time.” He came up behind her, closing his arms around her. He rested a palm over her belly and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, next to the strap of her dress. “I think you’re pregnant.”
“What?” She blinked, covering his hand with hers. “I can’t be. Can I? No…”
“You’ve been off the pill for three months.” He swept her hair over one shoulder, then kissed her cheek. “It’s possible. Plus, you’re late. And your boobs have been more sensitive.”
Her cheeks heated. “Gordon.”
“It’s true,” he said, laughing. “You’re so cute when you blush. I can’t believe you can still blush, after the things you do to me every night.”
Her cheeks got even hotter. “You’re the one who—”
“Enough, wife.” He spun her in his arms. “I love you so damn much. You know that, right?”
She nodded slowly, clutching his shoulders. Her head was spinning a million miles a minute. “I love you, too. We’re going to have to take a test.”
“I know.”
“Will you go buy it? Maybe then we won’t have to tell everyone right away. You can throw on a hat and escape out the back door.”
He grinned. “It’ll be our little secret, if we can pull it off.”
“Exactly.” She rested a hand over his chest. “Until we’re ready to share it.”
“Agreed. I like keeping secrets from the gang. It makes me feel like I’m still the rebellious American I used to be,” he said, kissing her forehead gently. “The man you fell for, hook, line, and sinker.”
“You’re still him.” She shook her head, smiling even wider. “I’m so glad you got assigned to my case. You’re my knight in shining armor. The prince of my heart.”
A snort came out. “Please. You’ll make my head get even bigger than it already is.”
“It should be. You’re the best.”
“I don’t know about that last part, but I’m glad I got assigned to your case, too.” He kissed her, his mouth moving over hers. “Let me show you just how glad I am…”
He swept her into his arms, cradling her to his chest, and carried her to the bed. He might not think he was a knight in shining armor…
But he was definitely hers.
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About the Author
Diane Alberts is a multi-published, bestselling contemporary romance author with Entangled Publishing. She also writes New York Times and USA Today bestselling new adult books under the name Jen McLaughlin. She’s hit the Top 100 lists on Amazon and Barnes and Noble numerous times with numerous titles. Diane is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency. Her goal is to write so many fantastic stories that even a non-romance reader will know her name. Diane has always been a dreamer with a vivid imagination, but it wasn’t until 2011 that she put her pen where her brain was, and became a published author. Since receiving her first contract offer, she has yet to stop writing. Though she lives in the mountains, she really wishes she was surrounded by a hot, sunny beach with crystal clear water. She lives in Northeast Pennsylvania with her four kids, a husband, a schnauzer mutt, and two cats. In the rare moments when she’s not writing, she can usually be found hunched over one knitting project or another.
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