Page 80 of A Princess for Christmas

“Yes.” She planted a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back down so he was on his back. “Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”

His lip twitch intensified, and her worry receded even more. “Oh, I have thoughts on the matter. Many thoughts.”

“Let’s hear them.” She undid the fly of his jeans. How was it possible that this entire time, he’d been fully clothed? She’d liketo blame the cold, and the temperature did make a significant degree of disrobing impractical. But in retrospect, it seemed unfair that while she’d been lying there with her pants down,shehadn’t gotten to seehimat all.

“I’d rather hear yours.”

“I am struggling with the same dilemma that plagued you.” She mimicked his earlier move, grabbing the waistbands of his underwear and jeans together and tugging. He lifted his hips to help her and soon she had his... manhood exposed.

His manhood.She laughed inwardly at herself. Was this a gothic novel? She was now, for the first time ever, looking at Leonardo Ricci’s penis. He would probably call it his cock.

And it was a very nice cock. It was big and pink and circumcised. She’d heard that many American men had circumcised penises. The ones she’d seen up close had not been.

“What dilemma?” he prompted, his voice sounding a little put out, but not, she was confident, because he was genuinely annoyed.

“Oh, yes. I am pondering the hands-versus-mouth question you posed earlier.”

“Princess.” It came out like a warning.

“Yes?” When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “I think hands, as you decided. It’s rather cold out here, and I think perhaps the other is best left for more comfortable environs.”

He did something then that seemed like a hybrid of a laugh and a groan, and she found she enjoyed inspiring such a sound. No. She didn’tenjoyit. She loved it. Her whole self loved it, from her brain to her lungs, which were suddenly working overtime, to the spot between her legs that was throbbing anew.

“What are you thinking now?” He was still worried. Or worriedanew, because he’d dropped the worry mask a moment ago when he’d expelled the laugh-groan. She was starting to understand how much Leo worried. How much, beneath his facade of breezy defiance, there was an ever-present hum of disquiet.

“I’m not thinking anything useful,” she said. “I’m thinking too much. Overthinking, as you said a moment ago. So I’m going to stop doing that.” She settled her hand lightly on his penis, noting that doing so made the resulting laugh-groan much heavier on the groan. She used her other hand to guide his hand so that it rested on top of hers. “Show me the way you minister to yourself, and I will emulate it.”

“Oh my god,” he said, but he did as she asked, curling his bigger palm over hers and guiding her hand. She got the hang of his preferred rhythm and pressure fairly quickly, and she expected him to turn the matter over to her, but he didn’t. He was hard beneath her hand, like iron, and his hand above was scratchy, like sandpaper. The warring sensations, though limited to her hand, felt like they were engulfing her whole body. Moisture pooled between her legs, and her breath shortened to match his. A few more strokes and he was bucking into their joined hands. It was oddly, intensely erotic.

The only disappointing part was that it didn’t take very long. She could have kept it up forever, watching his face twist in a gorgeous sort of pleasure that looked like it bordered on pain, knowingshehad put that expression there, even as her own desire coiled up anew. It made her feel powerful.

And it had nothing to do with her identity as a member of the Eldovian royal family.

Which, in turn, made her laugh with delight.

“I’m glad you find my total and complete paralysis funny,” Leo deadpanned. He did look rather done in, lying there as he was with one forearm resting on his forehead and his pants still down.

“You look thoroughly vanquished,” she observed, flopping forward onto his chest and breathing in his spicy orange scent.

“I am.” He groaned as his arms came around her. “I am thoroughly vanquished.”

Chapter Sixteen

“I gotta find Gabby,” Leo said as he put his dick back in his pants, packed up the uneaten food, and helped put the princess to rights.

Put his dick in his pants and helped put the princess to rights.Eff him, but that was something he had never imagined himself thinking much less doing.

He smiled.

Because he had a feeling it might be something he would have the opportunity to do again. As he buttoned Marie’s coat up, his mind skittered back to the threat/promise of a blow job in “more comfortable environs.” It kept replaying that sentence—and another one.Show me the way you minister to yourself, and I will emulate it.

When he’d first met Marie in New York, her oddly formal manner and way of speaking had annoyed him. Then, as he’d come to understand that in many cases it was a front for nerves or insecurity, he’d minded it less.

But now? Now, it drove him wild.

It made him stiffen again when he thought about it.

Marie looked at her watch. “I suspect the horseback riding will be done by now, but I’m sure Gabby is well looked after.”

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