Page 92 of Stolen Princess

I pull her off me and spin her around before I push her back down on me, having her face out into the night. One hand wraps around her neck, my other goes to her hip.

“Push your ass back toward me and take me deeper. I want to feel all of you.”

I squeeze her neck and use it to move her on me. Instead of clutching my hand or my arm to stop me or show she’s afraid, one hand goes to my thigh, and her other wraps around the back of my head from behind so she can hold me at her neck.

I lose it with that. The way she trusts me.

I lick her ear and nibble on the soft flesh as I push up into her. Her feet are on the blanket, and she works me, holding me and fucking me back. I slide up her belly to her tits and cup one, squeezing it as I squeeze her neck in pulses. Cries and whimpers and moans tumble from her lips, her thighs spread wide, the cool night air blowing on her exposed clit.

“That’s it. I’m going to fuck you so good the whole world will hear you come for me.”

“Yes. More. I want to feel all of you. Everywhere. All over me.”

I bring her to the ground, pressing my weight on her so I can fuck her from behind like this. She wants to feel me everywhere, and that’s what I give her. My whole body. I keep my hand on her neck and hold it tight as I up my pace and saw into her. My pelvis spanks her ass with every pounding thrust, and my mouth covers hers from the side.

“Is this what you wanted? To be at my mercy? To have me control you?”

Her eyes pinch shut, but she whispers, “Yes,” so softly I almost don’t hear it.

“You’re so perfect. All of you is. I can’t get enough of you.”

She nods her head. It’s all she has, and I love that about her. I love that she gets so totally absorbed in this. It’s visceral and connected, and she swims in it without an ounce of worry or self-consciousness.

The world has never taught her to be cautious. To hold back. It’s one of my favorite things about her. She is who she is because no one’s tainted that side of her.

With our bodies flush, I continue to pump and grind into her, building her up. I’m so close. So fucking close, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold off. She feels too good.

I keep her to me, holding her down with my weight and the pressure on her neck while whispering against her lips. Everything and anything as it hits my brain, I say to her. Her second orgasm swoops in and explodes like an unexpected bomb, and it drives me straight over the edge.

My lips smash against hers, and I moan and grind and grunt, spilling myself in her yet again, coming harder at the thought. Mine. All of her is mine. At least until tomorrow.

29

DESTA

Iwake up a bundle of giddy anxiety and nervous energy. The sun is just starting to crack open the sky to the east, coating the choppy water with a smoothness it wouldn’t otherwise have. The air is light and fresh and warm, but with a hint of fall tickling its edges.

It’s tonight. The festival is tonight.

But with that, I’m going to have a freaking gun on me. Ferrin is too. He took the bullets out of Lars’s gun and showed me how to aim and fire it. He didn’t want the sound of gunfire to echo off the rock and possibly alert someone either not far from here or offshore that we were here. So I have no clue if I’d actually hit a target or not. But knowing how to shoot is at least half the battle.

We’re going to keep a low profile. And if my mother decided she wanted to steal me back, she’d know where to find me because she knows this is my end goal. How ironic that she stole me at the festival for the stolen princess.

Ferrin is still asleep, his breathing heavy. He’s on his stomach with the sleeping bag covering his butt. His muscular back and tattooed arms are on display, even if he’s facing the other way. We haven’t talked about what comes next for us, not in any specific way, and I think that’s because we both know nothing comes next.

After tonight, we’ll go our separate ways.

It’s not what I want. Not even close. But he’s intimated that’s how this will go. I keep telling myself that the things I want for my future aren’t the things he wants. That outside of this insanity, it’d never work. We haven’t even known each other for a week, and a future can’t be put together from situations like this. Can it?

If I somehow manage to meet the royal family and they somehow believe my story and all of this turns out to be real, I’ll have him pardoned if I can. It’ll be my thank you to him. I already know I’ll spend the rest of my life thinking and wondering about him. Wishing for things I won’t get.

I could fall in love with him so easily.

Maybe when the dust settles, and everything works itself out, and the danger is gone, I’ll track him down and see where things are then. Still, the thought of him walking away from me tonight or tomorrow hurts so much worse than it likely should.

Quietly, I climb out of the sleeping bag and pad down to the water. The sand is cool beneath my feet, the wind whipping my hair off my face and straight back. Today is the day when everything changes. My thoughts drift to the royal family and to my mother and to what I want for my life and future, uncertainty swimming alongside each of them.

I don’t know how long I stay down here. Long enough that dawn turns into morning, and I’m sitting in the sand instead of standing in it. Long enough that Ferrin wordlessly joins me, both of us lost to our own introspection, even as our bodies are close and our shoulders and arms are touching.