Page 92 of Prince Charmless
Struggling to keep my eyes open, I prepare myself to come face to face with Taylor’s rock-hard and throbbing...pants.
I jerk my head up. “What the hell are these still doing here?”
“Jeez, Melina,” he says through a chuckle. He seems surprised by my tone. “You’re just so fucking gorgeous. I got distracted.”
The way he calls me gorgeous is scientific, like it’s a fact he’s proven and peer-edited.
I tug at the stupid polyester-cotton blend that prevents me from seeing him fully.Pants,what a dumb invention. He grabs something from his pocket before taking his clothes off the rest of the way. I smile dorkily at his nakedness. When contraceptive appears in his hand, he rips the foil with his teeth like an animal.
“You brought a condom?” I ask. “I didn’t know you were hoping for some. What happened to the good Catholic boy you were telling me about?”
“I have royal sperm, Melina. Being extremely careful is part of the job.” The corner of the wrapper lands on my chest. “And IamCatholic. I’m really into drawing out ceremony for as long as possible until you just can’t take it any longer.”
“You did not just say the word ‘sperm’,” I mutter. Thankfully, I’m on the pill. I don’t feel like being impregnated with the future sovereign of St. Claire right now.
“Brave of you to roll your eyes at me in this position,” he scolds.
I love it when he scolds me. Though his air of dominance is ruined when he leans into my ear and sheepishly asks, “Did you wear those panties for me?”
I’d rather die than give him the satisfaction.
“Women don’t wear lingerie for men, they wear it for themselves.”
And occasionally they wear it sothemselvescan look nice for men.
Okay yeah. I did bring my nice fuck-me lingerie set stateside, but it was only for a break-in-case-of-emergency situation. Who knows? I could have met a nice American boy.
I’m lying to myself, aren’t I?
Taylor starts with the condom until I steal it from him. “No, I have to do it.”
“Very bossy,” he says as I roll it on him.
I give him a few lazy strokes just to make sure my hands can confirm what my eyes see. Taylor is, in fact, big. Maybe I could write a dirty limerick about it on the jet.
He puts more weight on me, then cocks his head toward the windows. “Should I close those or do you want all of New York to see me fuck you?”
I had a feeling he’d be good at dirty talk.
I look left to the beautiful skyline. We’re at the top of a skyscraper. Only God can see our fornication now.
“Taylor, if you don’t—”
I arch. The back of my hand slaps a pillow. Taylor intertwines his fingers with mine. Our movement is careless but synchronized, full of friction and rhythm.
“You shouldn’t do things like this to my ego, Ramirez. It’s bad enough already.”
I hook my arm through his to grip his shoulder. His fingers dig into my waist as things build. We hold on to each other for dear life. When it hits, my orgasm is imposing and smooth. It winds through my veins and rushes throughout my body like a wave. I’m buoyant. Taylor stops for a moment before pushing further. We persevere until he can no longer. Seeing him flushed and possessed for me is euphoric. Something tells me I’ll beaddicted to the high. Mere steamy looks and schoolyard flirting won’t be enough to get my fix. We’ll have to work out a deal. No matter how illogical it is.
––––––––
Besides a helicopter in the far distance, the morning sky over New York City is completely blue. I don’t remember the walls in this bedroom being green. I wasn’t paying attention to the decor last night. I roll over to find Taylor staring at me.
“Gah,” is the noise that comes out of my body. When my eyes focus, I realize it’s less of a stare and more of a beam. He’s practically glowing. “You look like a virginal teenager who just had his first lay.”
“I’m just admiring,” he says in a creaky morning voice I adore.
I prop my head on my elbow. “Really?”
