Page 15 of A Valiant Prince

“Fix what?” I say to her.

“Everything,” she says on a release of breath.

“Anna, this isn’t your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself, right now,” I say, my voice slightly harsher than I mean it to be.

She sniffles again and pushes up so that I’m looking into her red, swollen eyes. “I can fix it, Logan. I can,” she says, determination lacing her voice.

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” I say to her, pressing my forehead against hers and breathing her in.

She sighs. “Logan, we don’t know who we can trust. I can’t live like that. I can’t live in fear. I won’t live in fear,” she says. I move my lips forward and brush them against hers.

“Then don’t,” I say, resigning myself to helping her however possible, no matter what rules have to be broken.

She kisses me back, slow and gentle. Neither of us rushes the other in our exploration. I know she’s not ready for more than this, or at least that’s what I keep telling my cock, but it has a mind of its own. It doesn’t help when she begins to grind against it. I moan into her lips as I slide my tongue along them. She opens willing, and I plunge inside, tasting her, owning her, because she’s fucking mine.

My hands explore her body and her hand grip my shoulder, using me as an anchor. It isn’t until she hisses in pain that I pull back.

“Anna?” I say, looking down to see what’s hurt her. I see her arm in an awkward position. I sigh and curse under my breath. “We can’t do this. You’re going to hurt yourself,” I say.

“Please, Logan,” she begs me. I know she wants to forget for a moment and so do I. I gently lift her and lay her down on the mattress. I prop her arm back up on the pillow and crouch over her on all fours.

“No moving,” I instruct. She nods and bites her lip, which only works to harden my cock further.

I go back to kissing her while my hands slide beneath the bottom of her dress. The only good part to her arm injury is the fact that she’s not wearing pants right now because it must be too difficult to pull them up her legs. I feel the cotton of her underwear and it’s soaking wet. I groan and push it aside, running my finger up her sex. She pushes her pelvis against me.

“No moving,” I repeat. She grumbles under her breath, and I can’t help the smirk on my lips as I trail kisses across her jaw and back to her lips. I slowly sink my finger inside her, and she whimpers.

“I got you, baby. I know what you need,” I murmur. I curl my finger inside her and begin rubbing her where I know it’ll feel best for her. I rub circles over her clit with my thumb. Her body begins to tremble, her inner muscles undulate around my finger, and I know she’s close. I slide a second finger inside her and repeat the movement, flicking my fingers back and forth over her sensitive spot. The hand of her good arm comes up to my bicep and grips tightly as she cries out. I lean down pressing my mouth to hers, swallowing her cries.

“Better,” I whisper against her lips after I give her a minute to come back down from her high.

“Yes,” she says with another contented sigh.

I feel her hand run down my chest and abs. I grip it.

“You don’t need to do anything,” I say to her.

“I want to,” she says as she fumbles with my waistband and slides her hand inside, wrapping her warm fingers around my dick. I moan as she squeezes slightly before moving her hand up to my tip and swirling the liquid that’s pooling there around the head of my shaft. She lubricates it several times before moving back down and then up. I don’t move. I support myself on my elbows, hovering over her as she gives me the best fucking hand-job of my damn life. I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel of her small hand attempting to wrap around me. When she slides farther down and grips my balls, I almost blow my load, but it feels so damned good that I force myself into composure, seeking more of the pleasure she’s giving me, prolonging the pleasure she’s giving me. It doesn’t last long as she strokes my dick. I see colors flash from behind my eyelids. I feel my cock swell and my balls pull up as I shoot my load into the fabric of my underwear. I brace myself above her, breathing hard into her neck.

“Shit, Princess. You’re fucking good at that,” I say. “Let me change.” I get up and give her a slow kiss before I walk over to my bag and pull out clean clothes. I take mine off, and she watches me intently.

“You’re beautiful,” she says. I grin.

“You think?” I ask, feeling a little cocky. I know I’m above average in the looks department and lord knows I spend enough time working out every day that my body is well-sculpted.

She rolls her eyes, and I chuckle. “You’re beautiful too, Anna,” I say to her as I walk back over and sit on the bed. She shrugs.

“I’m just me,” she says.

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. This woman is drop-dead gorgeous. There’s no way she doesn’t see that.

“I’m OK, I guess,” she says.

I raise my eyebrow farther. I walk over, pick her up in my arms and carry her to the full-length mirror by the bathroom. I set her down, holding onto her shoulders, forcing her to look at herself.

“What do you see?” I ask her.

She sighs. “Short, small, mousy hair, big eyes, petite everything,” she looks down at her body.

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