Page 121 of Underground Prince

He lifted me, cupping one leg and pulling me up with his surge, and I gasped as stood, gliding my body along his until I was balanced in front of him.

“I want you naked,” he said. “Now.”

“Those one-word commands,” I said, though unfortunately I wasn’t as firm. I was breathless. “They work out well, don’t they?” In a slow curve, I gave him my back, purring, “I may need some help with that.”

Oh hell, he had me purring.

A sound escaped, low in his throat, and without any further utterance he jerked my head to the side and ran his teeth from my ear to my collarbone, blossoming colors behind my eyelids as sensation took hold. He was at the back of my dress, unzipping while his other hand went to my front, dipping low, stroking. My whispered “Yes” was accompanied by a smooth arc of sound before the dress whooshed off and puddled to the floor.

He spun me, and all that greeted him was my lace thong. He scanned me, every inch, and I breathed like a circuit trainer throughout. His lips formed at an “F—” but he didn’t finish the exclamation. He took my lips, and then he took me.

We went flying from the main room to the wall in the hallway, bruises forgotten, scars diminished, my shoulder blades slamming into the plaster as he covered me, head to toe, with his hard lines, his soft skin, the wet cold of ice transforming into slick heat. His tongue dipped and I opened up for him, letting him plunder. I jumped, wrapping my legs around his long torso and he caught me seamlessly, a natural choreography of lust. His stubble chafed, but it was a sting I welcomed, working in tandem with the hot silk of his tongue, and we sparred. He dove and I parried; he nipped and I bit; he growled and I moaned.

I wasted no time. I was at his waist, fingers tangling as I tried to rip off his belt instead of patiently undoing it, and I bit into his neck, sucking on those tense cords, licking at his jawline. We both fumbled at his belt loops until his pants and boxers were off and he kicked them to the side. I noticed my high heels were still on and I made to send them flying down the hallway until he prevented the kick by holding my leg.

“I’m hurting you?” I asked, out of breath.

“Hell no,” he said. “Keep them on.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and leapt, my ankles hooking around his back before he took us to the floor.

He vaulted out of our kiss, an arm on each side of me bunching and releasing as he stared down, then lowered his head, resuming the nips and kisses, down my neck, until he reached my nipples and pulled each of them in, taking his time on both. If his lips weren’t on one, his fingers were, pinching, rolling, electrocuting until I was torqueing underneath him.

He lifted his head only to smile before traveling south, tracing a line from my belly button to my core with his tongue. He hooked my underwear with his thumbs, taking time to slide them off before bending down and doing what I’d dreamt of the moment I met him.

The groan that escaped me was unreal, unfamiliar, and he licked, sucked and flicked as I writhed, the tingling ecstasy building, building—

He paused, rising to see me tremble, waiting for me to beg for more. He kissed the inside of my thigh, his hot breaths damp on my skin and I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was trying to stop himself from coming.

“Not yet,” I said, my voice nothing but a strangled whisper.

The tingles were gone, but the ecstasy remained and he dipped down again, my thighs falling open, my fingers clutching his hair.

I drove with him, meeting his thrusts, eyes closed, pleasure clear, and he sent me under, over, sideways and I called out his name three times, though it wasn’t like I was counting.

Melting against the floor, I sighed, my legs falling slack.

His shadow towered over me, his palms smacking against his weight on either side of my hips.

The sliver of light behind us shone those butterscotch beams on me, and it was all I needed to burst up and seal our lips, throwing him back until I was on top.

“My turn,” I said before bending low and returning the favor.

He was hot and hard as I gripped him, feeling him tighten and release as he both resisted and basked in my tongue, aiming for control but finding none when I circled.

Theo hissed between his teeth before sitting up and pulling me with him. “I ain’t doing anything until I’m inside you.”

Now was the time for a barely-there kiss. Just one against his lips. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

I pushed him back to the floor, his lithe, luscious, sinfully scarred body laid out below me.

He mumbled, “Pants. Pocket, ” with luscious pain.

It was time to set a world record. I dove for his slacks, dug in, and felt the crunch. In less than three seconds, I found my place again, perfecting the straddle. I ripped open the packet with my teeth, and slid the condom down, nice and easy, before my hips followed.

Parting myself for him, putting the head of him exactly where he wanted it, I started the sex but he finished it. Gripping my waist, injuries all but child’s play, he rammed his torso up until smacks of skin and shuddering breaths surrounded us.

The feeling of him deep inside, the need to curve back so I could take all of him, had me gasping at the ceiling, my hands clamping down on the floor behind me as he drove.

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