Page 65 of The Prince and the Puck
I covered Lizzy’s naughty mouth with my hand and began rocking in a slow, steady rhythm.
“Oh,” she said, finally sounding agreeable. I removed my hand, getting better purchase on the bed next to her head. I was at the very end of my control, but there was no way I was going to go first.
“Oh,” she agreed again as I rocked. “Oh, god, oh yeah, oh please…” I felt Lizzy’s orgasm at the same time her words became utter nonsense and her arms tightened around my shoulders like a set of steel bands. Shit, the woman was strong!
Her channel milked my cock as she came, and that threw me completely over the edge, a tingling starting low in my spine and rushing up my nervous system until stars were blasting behind my eyelids and I might have been speaking—or maybe screaming—in tongues. The sensations went on and on, skittering through my limbs, unfurling deep inside my abdomen, spiraling through my chest until I finally went limp, pushing my weight to one side of Lizzy.
It might have been a second or perhaps several hours later that I opened my eyes to look at her.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“Right?”
“But Your Highness, we really do need to talk.”
That line right there unsexified the whole situation for me. “Yep. Okay.” I headed for the bathroom, cleaned up and got dressed. After Lizzy had done the same, she met me in the sitting room.
“I hate it when you call me Your Highness,” I told her.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s appropriate. You’re royalty. I’m your servant.”
“Ew, no. Not unless we’re just playing some kind of fun game.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.
“Declan, what are we doing?” Lizzy looked upset suddenly, and my heart dropped. No, I didn’t want her upset.
“We’re… I don’t know. We’re being together?”
“That’s impossible, though,” she said. “You’re going to be king. You can’t be having a fling with a guard.” She shook her head, and her hands went to her ponytail, which she smoothed and refastened.
“What if I wasn’t king?”
“I’m not sure it matters,” she said. “What do you mean, though?”
I reminded her about Lambert, about his image problem, his PR needs.
“And you really think I can help?”
“I think we can do it together.”
“I don’t think a wombat and a calendar are the answer to this one,” she said.
“Wombats help everything,” I suggested. “But maybe you’re right. Something else then.”
In the next couple hours, Lizzy and I got to planning, interrupted once when Dad called to hear Lizzy’s input on Neel’s betrayal. We ordered dinner into the guest quarters, and spent the night there. Before we finally went to sleep, I texted my brother.
Declan: Lambie, we’ve got it all figured out. Operation PR begins tomorrow. Meet us on the front lawn tomorrow at ten. Bring Celeste.
CHAPTER 34
LIZZY
DAY OF PLAY.
The nightI spent with Declan in the palace felt like a dream.
Not just because it had been amazing, but because it seemed like the only way we could truly be together—if at all—was in my dreams. For now, I was focused once again on helping him. He didn’t want to be king, and selfishly, I thought that maybe if he wasn’t king, there might be a chance for us.
So, I dedicated myself to Declan’s ridiculous PR ideas. And honestly, the plan we’d come up with might just work.
