Page 20 of The Prince's Green Card Scheme

“Here’s to marriage,” I say crawling up over her to kiss her face.

“To marriage,” she grins, kissing me back then flipping me so she’s straddling my waist.

And that’s the last thing we say for a long time — because we’re too busy making each other see stars.

CHAPTER 10

CHLOE

When I wake up, Paul is gone.

I feel a pang inside my chest, wondering if the honeymoon of this strange relationship is over already. If it is, at least I enjoyed it while it lasted.

As far as arranged marriages go, I could definitely have done worse.

I decide I should make the most of sleeping in such a plush and comfortable bed and snuggle back in, closing my eyes and letting sleepiness overcome me. The pillows smell like Paul, and I breathe him in deeply, already missing his musk, the feeling of his firm body against mine.

But three seconds after I decide to drift back to sleep, the bedroom door opens and Paul enters with two mugs.

“Coffee?” he asks. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how you take it, so I just assumed cream and sugar.”

“That’s perfect. I like it sweet.”

“Just like you,” he grins.

I shake my head. “You really don’t have to flirt with me like that, you know.”

“Why?” He rounds the bed to place one mug on my bedside table, then crosses back to place the other on his side, where he crawls into bed, snuggles up beside me, and squeezes me tight. Gently, he nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck, like he’s trying to breathe me in. “I know this is only going to last for so long. That means I have to make the most of it now.”

“You make me feel something so strange,” I whisper to him, curling into him.

“It had better be agoodstrange,” he says with a grin.

He leans in to kiss me, and I smile. “Oh, yes,” I say, letting my fingers trace their way down his toned chest, bumping over his defined abs. “It’s averygood strange.”

With that he takes hold of my shoulders and presses me back into the bed, kissing my neck, my shoulder. I let out a yelp of surprise and giggle as I give myself over to his attack.

“Your lips feel so damn good,” I groan.

“I think they’d feel better somewhere else.” He flashes me that wicked look of his, then starts snaking a trail of kisses down my body.

All I can do is moan helplessly, electric current surging through my limbs, making my hips buck at even the lightest touch. And then his mouth hits my wet sex, and my eyes roll back in my head. “Don’t you dare stop,” I hiss, and instead of words he just doubles down.

It feels like we spend hours like that, relishing each other’s pleasure, holding one another, exploring our bodies, seeing whathappens if they collide together. I have no idea how many times I come, but eventually my stomach lets me know that all this physical activity is making me hungry.

“Is that your way of telling me you want breakfast?” says Paul, cuddling into me.

“Isn’t it more like lunch now?” I giggle.

“That’s just semantics.”

He starts kissing my neck again, and I let out a happy sigh. “Oh, don’t start that again. If you start kissing me there, we’re never going to get out of this bed.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“No,” I say shuffling to face him. “But I am hungry. And I could do with a shower.”

“Then both of those things you will have,” he grins.

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