Page 68 of How to Date a Prince

We lose ourselves in the ecstasy of each other’s bodies.

“Another rule,” I gasp against his skin, lifting my head from the pillow. Thomas lifts his head from between my thighs.

“Yes?” He grins wickedly as I reel with abrupt absence of his mouth. I arch my back, seeking his lips. My heart pounds, relentless in its beat.

“You’ve got to be absolutely, totally silent,” I tell him in a dazed whisper. “And nobody falls asleep. You must leave as soon as this is over.”

“That, I think, makes at least three rules. Your math is terrible, my liege.”

“Maths,” I correct. “My bed, my rules. Also: no hickeys.”

“Safe word?”

I smirk. “Aubergine.”

Thomas kisses my inner thigh, sparking a shudder down my body. “Sounds posh. I don’t even know what that is.”

“Oh, I’ll show you?—”

My body’s covered in goose bumps. He rakes his fingers down my sides, cupping my arse in his capable fingers.

“Anything else?” he whispers.

“Lube and condoms and anything else you might desire is in the top drawer—” I gasp, reeling. I clutch the bedsheets.

Thomas pauses long enough to take stock. He lets out a low whistle at the options before I lean forward and smother his mouth with my hand.

“Quiet,” I murmur a warning, then reach to silence his lips with a finger.

He nibbles at my fingers, smiling. And I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven as he pulls out the lube and a condom. “You better get ready, Your Royal Highness. Because you’ve got something coming, alright. Watch out, you and your princely aubergine.”

“I love coming—” I gasp as our mouths meet in a fierce kiss, pulling him tight. I wrap my legs around his, shuddering. “—even more than I like riding.”

Soon, our bodies move together with our gazes locked as he enters me. The ecstasy is nearly unbearable. Everything I want and am and need lies exposed. Thomas buries his face against my collarbone, soon thrusting with desperate urgency as he grips me with viselike fingers. It’s not long before he comes with a strangled cry. I follow soon after, spilling a hot path across our stomachs. And then he stays like that, all rumpled and flushed and mine. He holds my gaze. And neither one of us can speak quite then.

Then, inevitably, my mouth makes an appearance, along with my conscience. Impeccable timing.

“Katie was never my girlfriend,” I blurt as we try to catch our breath.

“What?”

“She wasn’t even my fake girlfriend. Or maybe-girlfriend.”

Thomas shifts to the side, frowning. He deals with the condom and settles back into bed. “What are you saying? What was that in the club, then? When I met you with your friend.”

“I—I used her as a cover up. So that you wouldn’t think I was gay. Or the public. Which is a totally shit thing of me to do, and I’m sorry, and I’ve apologized to her—but not to you. I’m terribly sorry. Of course there’s nothing wrong with being gay. It’s just complicated as a royal, especially as the heir to the throne?—”

“Why—why didn’t you tell me before?” he snaps, eyes flashing, his jaw tight. “That’s low, Auggie. How could you use your friend like that?”

“She’s not just a friend. She’s my best friend in the whole world.”

“That actually makes things worse—” Thomas sits up abruptly, pushing the blankets away. “I thought I had an idea about the sort of person you are. But maybe all the things my father tells me about the Royal Family are true after all. All you think about is looking after yourself and the rest of us are pawns in your games.”

“That’s not true. God. Shit. Forget the rules I told you earlier.” I whisper unsteadily, my heart battering my chest like it’s trying to escape the cage of my ribs, also not wanting anything to do with me. “Let me try to explain about Katie. Let me make it up to you?—”

“You—no. No.” And Thomas gets up abruptly. “I’m done with this. With you. What a mistake.”

He dresses with unsteady fingers and storms out before I find adequate words to explain, leaving me cold and alone in my bed.

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