Page 133 of Underground Prince

“What are you—?”

“You’re not working tonight,” I said, cutting off Theo’s question, our lips only as far apart as to allow speech.

“Last night was slightly too aggressive,” he said, smiling against me. “Though that ice bath idea you had…it paid off.”

Theo lowered me to the ground, his hands staying at my waist.

“Good,” I said, and I looked into those eyes, sinking into the melted caramel and pretending that vile swirls of nausea weren’t splashing behind mine. “Theo…”

I met with the FBI. They’re after your family. Now they have me. I must do as they ask because they’ll come for you if I don’t.

None of that reached my lips. All I could do was stare, and apologize with my expression, and hold on tight to his arms.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I…”

Come on. Come on.

His fingers brushed at my temple, damp tendrils of my hair tangling, but he coaxed them back. “Scarlet?”

I crashed into him.

Stealing his words by sealing his lips, breathing in his questions, I put all my energy into command, communicating with my mouth, my moans, dragging him to his bedroom.

He caught on fast, lifting one of my legs around his waist while I pushed off and wound the other one around him, interlocking my ankles at the back. If he felt pain from his injuries he didn’t deem it important because we fell into bed, his weight on top of me, my hands reaching for the ties of his sweatpants.

I lifted up only to strip off my jacket, shirt and bra while he unbuttoned my jeans and I wriggled out of them. They caught at one ankle, and he stumbled back a bit at the release of my foot, sending me into ridiculous, topless giggles.

He laughed with me, stepping out of his pants, his erection popping free.

I lost my giggles.

He slid on top of me, a seamless glide against my skin, pausing to trace my cheekbone, the pad of his thumb smoothing across my eyebrow.

It was a moment unexpected, where we were so close I could count his lashes, but I stared into him instead, my smile fading, tenderness escaping, our exposed bodies requesting, not demanding.

Feel me. Warm me. Match my heartbeats.

No.

I clasped his nape and crushed my lips to his, grinding and circling my sex against him, directing his mind away from sweet and demanding spice. He groaned in my mouth.

“I want you,” I said, his stubble burning my lips.

He planted his hands on either side of my head, backing off the bed until he stood. Theo bent to the side, ripping open and fumbling with a condom, before he held my legs at the crook of my knees, lifting me up until the tip of him started parting me.

“Say please,” he said, his voice rougher than mine.

I bunched my hands into fists as the wanting took control. “Do it. Theo…”

“Say it.”

He rubbed, ever so slightly, spikes of fire racing up my core and tensing my thighs.

“Tell me you need me. ‘Please Theo, fuck me,’” he said.

I arched, my body doing the begging no matter what my stubbornness wanted.

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