Page 68 of Resisting Royal

Covering her tiny hands with my own, I stopped her. “Be sure this is what you want, Bianca.”

Her eyes fluttered a moment as she licked her lips. “I think—I think this is what I need.”

Need. Want. There was not a fucking difference in my mind when the woman of my dreams, my own fucking wife, sat in front of me in the purest of white satin, inches away from touching my throbbing cock.

I released her hand and leaned forward, bracing my palms on each side of her spread thighs, allowing her free roam of my body to touch as she pleased. And I begged, mentally, maybe verbally, I couldn’t be sure at that point, for her to just fucking touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere. Now.

Slowly, painfully so, she pulled at the leather of my belt buckle, releasing it before her fingers found the button. Her fingers gently fluttered over the bare skin above my slacks, tracing the descending line of muscles that all lead to the exact same spot.

She swallowed hard. “I’ve wanted to run my fingers over this spot since the moment I first saw you without a shirt.”

I bit my lower lip, hard. Then reminded myself that I needed to take a few deep breaths because with her hands so close, but not physically touching my cock, I was feeling weak. I took in a sharp breath before asking, “Then why didn’t you?”

“Just because I wanted to do something doesn’t mean it’s the best thing to do.” She flicked the button open and slowly trailed her fingertip down the closed zipper.

“And now?” Was that my voice? Barely a harsh whisper.

“Now . . .” She shrugged, “Probably still not the best thing, but . . .”

She trailed off, her palm flattening over my cock, separated by the thin material of my pants. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes tightly, not sure if I would survive her touch if she actually broke through the barriers and touched my bare skin. “But . . . ?”

“But, what’s the point in resisting if everything we do will always bring us here?” she paused, glanced down at her palm slowly rubbing circles up my length, “with you in the palm of my hand?”

I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. I caught Bianca’s wrist, stilling her motion, holding her in place until she looked at me. “Clever girl, you should already know the truth by now.”

Her head tilted slightly to the side. “What?”

I brought my free hand up to her cheek, caressing it with the back of my knuckles, leaving a trail of black soot behind. “Don’t you know, you’ve always had me in the palm of your hands?”

I released her wrist, practically grinding my erection into her palm, begging for her touch. Her lips turned up in a crooked smile, her fingers gentle right before she slowly pulled the zipper down. Her fingers hooked into my pants, pushing them down past my hips to the floor.

Without even breaking her gaze from my own, she quirked a brow. “Commando?”

She didn’t want a response—hell, I couldn’t verbalize one anyway. Not when her fingers wrapped around the base of my cock and squeezed. Air rushed from my lungs, and I was frozen in place, unable to inhale. She slid her palm upward, stopping long enough to swirl her index finger in the precum that beaded at the tip before sliding her palm downward again, only to repeat the motion once, twice, three times. Enough times that each pass over the sensitive crown made me see stars and brought me closer to heaven.

Or was it hell? It definitely had to be hell because there was no way I could be this close to exploding and not be physically inside of her. I let her squeeze my cock one more time, blurring my vision, and stealing my thoughts before I grabbed her wrist, halting her movement. Panting, I leaned toward her, caging my hands on each side of her as I brought my lips to the curve of her neck.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to go,” I whispered against her neck before I moved lower, leaving a trail of kisses down to her breasts, where I used my teeth to lower her bra.

“How is it supposed to go?” she asked, her voice shaking.

I locked my teeth onto her nipples, startling a yelp from her before I soothed it with my tongue and sucked it gently. Her hands came to my hair, her fingers threaded into the strands, roughly offering a bit of pain I relished.

“I’ve thought a lot about this,” I confessed, and I felt her body shake with laughter.

“I bet you have.” She tugged my hair, directing me to the other breast I hadn’t given attention to.

I bit the skin to stop her laughter. “Do you think you’re funny, Amore?”

Her breath caught for a second. “A little.”

“I don’t find anything funny about what I want to do to you.” I grabbed her hips, pulling them hard against me and off the dresser she was sitting on. When her feet touched the floor, I kissed her again, a quick rough kiss before turning her around to look in the mirror.

Pushing her hair over to one shoulder, my lips found her neck again, my teeth grazing the skin along the curve. “This. This is how I’ve always pictured it.”

She didn’t speak; she just gave a slight nod as her eyes watched my movement in the mirror. I pulled her against me, trapping her in place with one arm across her chest, the other snaking down her stomach toward her white satin panties. “Did you wear these for me?”

She swallowed then nodded, my every move being absorbed through the reflection in front of us. My fingers bypassed the silky material, the trail of black soot left by their travels a stark contrast against her milky skin.

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