Page 14 of His Perfect Princess

Then there was the time we met unexpectedly in the corridor, and he’d whisked me into a linen closet for another practice session of The Supplicant Swan. The threat of discovery had made that extra arousing, and I was pleased to show him how much I’d been practicing and exploring when it came to my cunny.

Judging from the thick, ropey strings of seed he loaded onto my face, he approved.

But rather than satisfying me, our encounters only seemed to heighten my need for him. Rickard chuckled about it while he held me up on the counter of his bathing chamber and lapped at the pearl of pleasure, hidden in my curls—The Invasion of Brussels, page seventy-nine—telling me it was good for me to have to wait.

All I knew was a month was a very long time.

I found out from one of the wedding planners that an event of this magnitude usually required at least six months to pull off, but the Crown Prince had demanded perfection in only a month.

Apparently he couldn’t wait any longer, either.

Chapter 6

Rickard

I wish I’d worn a more comfortable pair of shoes.

Findlay had tried to talk me into them while we were getting ready, but I’d turned up my nose; today was my wedding day, and I could handle a bit of discomfort if it meant looking absolutely perfect.

Perfection sometimes required pain.

But not for my Clarissa; not unless she asked politely.

I grinned almost wolfishly.

As her husband and master, it would soon be my responsibility to give her anything she wanted.

The thought kept me occupied during the church service, which was lasting for-fooking-ever, judging from my sore feet and the way my brothers were shifting beside me as the priest droned on.

But I’ll bet neither of them had a cockstand in their trousers, making things even more painful.

It had been three full days since I’d last let Clarissa stroke me to orgasm, and it hurt. Not just the restraint, but the fact that I hadn’t been with her. I missed her, even if we’d seen each other last night for the traditional pre-wedding, family-only dinner.

Her father had preened, and kept a close eye on her, so we hadn’t been able to escape.

That thought led to another, and soon my feet didn’t hurt at all. Nay, I was grinning, remembering how delicious it had been, that afternoon two weeks ago, when I’d surprised her in the bathing chamber of my suite—where she’d been taking notes about updating the wallpaper to her taste, of all things—and shown her just how nice it was to have extra-high counters.

On my direction, she’d taken to going without bloomers these days, her skin bare between her garters and the waist of her skirts…and that had made it easy to practice my pussy-licking skills. According to the splendid acoustics, I wasn’t that much out of practice. Good Christ, I had so many ideas for her in that bathroom…

What made me think it’d be a good idea to picture Clarissa naked and wet and oh-so-arousing? My cockstand was even harder than it had been when this damned wedding began…

When the music started, I silently thanked God, did a little subtle shifting to hide the tremendous bulge in my trousers, and turned to see her floating down the aisle beside her father.

She was perfect.

I couldn’t have told you what she was wearing, but per my request, her hair was long and flowing down her back, exactly the way I liked it. Her violet eyes sparkled, but the special smile on her face was all for me.

Holy fook, I love this woman.

Then she was on my arm, and I was saying some words the priest prompted me to say, and then Clarissa was saying some words…but I’m not sure I could’ve told you what they were.

All I could think was that I’d found the perfect woman for me, and we were going to be together for the rest of our lives.

When the priest gave us permission to kiss, I had to be careful. I wanted to hold her arse, to pull her into me, to grind the hard bulge in my trousers against the welcoming warmth of her belly…but that wouldn’t be proper.

I limited myself to a small peck, and judging from the way she whimpered softly—eyes closed and holding her breath, I noticed—she was ready for more.

I leaned in again, but instead of kissing her, whispered in her ear. “Soon, Clarissa. Soon I’ll give ye everything ye want.”

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