Page 67 of Gilded Princess

The cool air caresses my skin, such a sharp contrast to the feverish way I feel inside right now.

“Such perfect tits,” he murmurs, skimming his lips around my nipples. He takes his time exploring, flicking his tongue out to taste me.

My fingers dig into his skin hard enough to hurt, but he doesn’t even flinch. I can’t stop my hips from flexing against him, his cock hitting my clit at just the right angle each time.

He pulls my nipple in between his teeth, tugging and sucking. It feels like a direct shot to my clit, and I can’t stop the moan that spills from my lips. It’s loud and drenched in want and need.

“Please, Leo,” I beg, my lashes fluttering closed.

His hands slide up my leg, his thumbs tracing a path along my inner thigh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. While his lips and tongue tease me, he hooks a finger in my shorts and pulls them to the side. Cool air hits my exposed pussy, the sensation only turning me on more.

I never sleep with underwear on, and even though I wasn’t planning on doing any of this in here tonight, you’d have to physically force me away from him right now.

I know the moment he realizes I’m bare underneath my shorts. He chuckles against my skin, his breath whispering against me.

“You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” His words end on a groan, his lips on my skin. Fingers flexing on my hip, he holds me still against him.

He runs his knuckle up and down, over and over, slow enough that I can practically taste my impending orgasm.

“Stop teasing me,” I pant between breaths.

Without a word, he swaps his knuckles for two fingers and plunges them inside me. My breath stutters inside my lungs, the feeling of his long fingers inside of me short-circuiting my brain for a moment. Then he starts moving, and I swear it feels like I’m astral-projecting, rising higher and higher.

My hips rock involuntarily, and I know I’m close. As if he can read my mind, his hand leaves my hip to tangle in my hair at the back of my neck. He slams my mouth on his, our tongues at war with one another. He fucks my mouth in time with his fingers, and when he grinds the palm of his hand against my clit, I detonate.

Stars blind my vision, my breath stalls, and I go weightless.

His fingers slow but don’t let up, and my orgasm won’t fucking end. It’s like he’s prolonging it somehow. Him and his magical fingers.

Finally, it ebbs, but I don’t feel any less boneless.

My lashes flutter open, and I pull back from his mouth to rest my forehead against his. “Holy shit. That was incredible,” I breathe out with a laugh.

He withdraws his fingers slowly, and I lean back to give him some room. I watch with reignited lust as he slides his fingers in his mouth, licking them clean. Then he steals my lips in another kiss, one that has me reaching for the band of his shorts.

A loud cough startles me enough that I jump. Leo clutches me to his chest in a protective move I wasn’t anticipating.

“Enjoy the show, brother?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

MADDIE

Possessiveness drips from Leo’s words, and desire flares inside my veins. I kind of want to smack some sense into myself because of it. Leo’s hand snakes up my neck to grab my hair and tilt my head to the side. Normally, that’s the kind of dominant move that gets me hot, but I have a sinking suspicion he’s doing it for someone else’s benefit.

And while I think I might like to explore the idea of a little audience, this is not exactly what I had in mind.

I uncurl my fingers from his waistband and place a chaste kiss against his lips. His gaze flicks to mine for a moment, long enough for me to see the victory shining in his darkened green eyes as he stares down our guest.

I fix my tank top and adjust my shorts so I’m covered. Then, with efficient movements, I slide off Leo’s lap. He folds his arms across his chest with a quirked brow, and I vow to take his shirt off at the next opportunity. That man’s chest feels like it’s carved from marble, and I’m dying to get a closer look.

I flash him a small smile, one that I know just tips up the corner of my mouth, and walk backward toward the door. I imagine how I look to him right now—hair tangled and mussed up from his hands, clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed.

The smirk he flashes me is pure carnal sin, his damned dimple peeking at me.

The smell of sandalwood invades my senses. Matteo’s close. I wasn’t sure if he would’ve bailed the moment Leo called him out, but I should’ve known better. I don’t think Matteo’s backed down from a challenge in his life. Why should this be any different?

I keep my eyes on Leo until the last possible moment. Only when I’m standing right next to Matteo do I shift my attention. Dragging my fingertips across his chest in a featherlight touch, I murmur, “Don’t you know it’s polite to knock, Matteo.”

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