Page 4 of Cheeky Prince
Jill
“Oh, God.” I fumble for something to clean up my mess, glad the glass didn’t break. There’s a dishtowel on the counter, so I lean over and grab for it, only to feel the cool whiskey seep into the material of my skirt and find its way to my skin. “Oh no.”Can I make this any worse?
“Let me help you.” Dominic picks up the glass and takes the dishtowel from my hand before he dabs at the wetness of my skirt. I shake beneath his touch, the closeness of his heat. This all feels like some crazy weird dream that I can’t wake up from. Although, would I really want to? I mean, the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life is standing in front of me, cleaning whiskey from my skirt with a rather impressive bulge pushing out from his dark pants.
I try not to stare, but holy hell, I can’t stop myself. I’m not a stranger to the ole crotch-watch; I’ve found my eyes straying to many a guy’s penis area (what? It’s no different to them staring at our cleavage) to see what he’s got going on, but this is the first time I’ve seen one so…close up and well….big.And since I’m the only woman in the room, I’m guessing it’s up for me.
Holy shitballs!
I don’t know whether I should be aroused or frightened, but I’m erring on the side of being aroused because, look at him—tall, dark, and handsome have nothing on this guy. Dominic is maybe thirty or a little older, with chocolate brown hair and eyes that are both blue and green, depending on how the light hits. He’s about a head taller than my five foot eleven frame, with shoulders so broad I feel like a little mouse in front of him. And that’s hard for a big girl like me to find. Big men like little girls, little men like big girls. But I, well, I never really knew what I liked until I walked into this beach house. What I like is big and brawny. What I like is Dominic. And after the week I’ve had, dodging unwanted advances from a man who makes my skin crawl, a hot guy with broad shoulders and a voice that makes my clit tingle is just what the doctor ordered.
Pity I have no idea what to do with such an offering.
I’m not exactly experienced in this whole male-female relations game. I’ve had exactly zero sexual partners, which is something even my best friend doesn’t know about. It’s embarrassing in this day and age to be twenty-three and a virgin. But here I am, living the virgin life.Maybe not for much longer…
“Shh.” I mean to shush myself inside my head, but somehow it comes out of my mouth.
“What was that?” Dominic asks, looking up from where he’s blotting my skirt. Each touch and rub is causing my knees to press harder together.
“Hmm?” I can only squeak in response. That’s how ridiculously turned on I am right now. That’s insane, isn’t it? Ijustmet this guy. But I suppose I’m not thinking straight because I’m tired after a week of dodging Craig’s advances. I mean, I’m actually standing here thinking it’d be nice togive my virginity to a man I just met.Crazy! But there’s something about the depths of his eyes that makes me feel like I belong, like this is why I wasn’t matched right on the cruise. Because I was supposed to come here and be matched with him.
Someone get the white coats. It’s time to lock me up.
“Are you OK,mon petit chou?” I don’t speak French, but whatever he called me sounded hot as fuck.
“Uh-huh,” I stare into his eyes and melt, then he does something that has my heart rate ratcheting up a notch, or five thousand notches. Basically, it’s hammering out of my chest.
“This will need to come off,” he says, hooking his fingers in the waistband of my skirt. “I’ll have it cleaned for you.”
“You don’t have to—Oh!” An involuntary shudder moves through me as the tips of his fingers brush against my skin as he drags my skirt down my legs. It makes me grateful for elastic waistbands and pretty pink panties that are not only comfy but edged with lace too. I’d hate this moment if I was wearing my Spanks or worse; my gross laundry day panties.
“Sit,” he commands from where he’s kneeled in front of me.
I do exactly what he says and plant my ass on the closest stool. This whole thing should be weirding me out, but it isn’t in the slightest. Something is happening inside me. Call it magic, call it blind lust, or even naïve fantasy, but I’m here for this. I am here for this.
“Open.” His hand presses on the inside of my thighs, pushing them apart until my damp panties are in line with his face. “Mmm. Looks like you’re wet here too.”
One long finger slides into my panties, and I gasp, gripping the counter, so I don’t fall from the stool. “Oh, God.”
My core aches with desire for this man’s touch. No man hasevertouched me like this. So why am I suddenly so willing for this guy to do it? Why are my nipples hard while my womb physically throbs at the idea of him pushing his fingers into my depths?
“Not god,” he says, eyes locking with mine. “I want you to saymyname.”
“Dominic,” I breathe, allowing my hips to rise up to meet the tips of his fingers, unable to stop my body’s untempered reaction to his.
“Mon petit chou.” His eyes close, and a deep rumble escapes his chest as he pushes his finger past my folds. I moan, my body tingling everywhere. “Already so wet. Does this always happen? Or are you wet for me?”
“For you,” I respond immediately, chest heaving as his fingers claim the squelching wetness of my pussy. I clamp down with my internal muscles, drawing out more from the sensation.
“And tight. You weren’t lying when you said you haven’t done this before. Don’t tell me Stefan sent me a virgin to break?”
I gulp. “Yes,” I gasp out, fighting the mix of my emotions as embarrassment threatens to take away from the eroticism of the moment.
He rises to stand, eyes leveling with mine while his fingers move back and forth, testing the truth of my statement. “You’re avirgin?”
I close my eyes tight, not wanting to lose that feeling I was chasing, not wanting to admit to this gorgeous man what I truly am—unwanted, undesired, untouched. It’s humiliating.
“Open your eyes and look at me,mon petit chou,” he demands, his voice gruff, his fingers still. “Are you a virgin?”
