Page 86 of A Princess for Christmas

“Leo,” she panted against his neck.

As with the times she’d come before, her breathing changed. Her fingers tightened around his, and a shudder ripped through her as she came. He could feel her inner muscles spasming around his dick. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. His hips had taken over, and they were going to move. With a groan, he snapped them up, a big, almost involuntary thrust that turned her moan-in-progress into a surprised-but-delighted yelp. It only took one more thrust, and he was emptying himself into the condom.

She pushed herself back up, and he grabbed the base of the condom, thinking she was going to climb off him, but she just sat there grinning at him, her face red and her braids mostly undone, looking both thoroughly fucked and thoroughly self-satisfied. She lifted their entwined hands, and suddenly, he didn’t want to let go. So he pulled her hand back. Brought it to his lips and kissed it.

“You are a very interesting mixture of qualities,” she informed him as she took her hand back—he had to let her—and slid off him.

“What do you mean?”

“You are very chivalrous, but you have such a dirty mouth.”

He shrugged. He liked sex and he had manners. He didn’t think that was such a remarkable combination.

Marie flopped down on her back next to Leo. “I can’t usually come with a man.”

“You mean from just dick?”

She sputtered with laughter and turned her head toward him. “No. I gather that’s not that unusual? I meant with a man at all.From his ministrations—regardless of which appendage is being employed. Yet that was the third time with you, so clearly I was mistaken.”

“So what you’re saying,” he asked, to make sure he had this right, “is that you can rub one out but you don’t come when you’re with a partner?”

“That might not be how I would phrase it, but yes. Usually when I’m having sex, I get the same feeling I do when I have to dance in public—like I’m the object of too much scrutiny to fully relax.”

He took that in as he stared at the—gilded—ceiling. He couldn’t have wiped the grin off his face if he tried. It was stupid to get such a boost from something as mundane as making a woman come. In addition to being good manners—literally, the least he could do—in his experience, reciprocity usually meant better, more frequent sex.

He supposed he was disproportionally pleased by the princess’s praise because it had been so long since he’d done anything that felt like more than merely surviving. And even then, he usually ended up feeling like he was falling short.

Regardless of his feelings on the matter, though, Marie should know that expecting an orgasm out of sex was not an outlandish demand. “What the hell were those Casanovas from your past doing? Besides selling you out to the school newspaper?” She made a noncommittal murmur. He could imagine what they’d been doing. “I’m no rocket scientist, but even I know that most women can’t come from a guy just hammering away at them with his dick.”

“Hmm.”

He rolled onto his side. “What?”

She smiled. “I’m thinking about the image that conjures. Aman hammering away at a woman with his dick. I think I’d like to try that.”

“It’s supposed to be a negative example.”

“Still. A little controlled experiment might be fun, no? Besides, I am confident you would find a way. You seem to have a talent for multitasking.”

He shook his head. “You are something else, Princess.”

“I should stop calling you that,” Leo said, examining Marie from above—he’d propped his head on one hand, and she was flat on her back. She wasn’t sure she could move her limbs yet.

“No you shouldn’t,” she said automatically.

“But the whole point of our thing is that I don’t give a shit that you’re a princess. So why do I keep calling you that?”

“It’s a term of endearment, I think.” Was that the right word? She was conscious of the fact that she didn’t want him to feel trapped, as though she had expectations of him, but she liked him, and she was pretty sure he liked her, too. “I think you would call me Princess if I was a... banker. Or a teacher.”

“That’s... true.” He looked surprised at that interpretation.

“I think it’s also a little dirty, sometimes. I think you like the idea of sullying me.”

“Hmm.” His brow furrowed. “That’s also true.” He tucked some hair behind her ear, and the gesture felt almost unbearably tender. “But not because you’re a princess.”

“No,” she agreed. “Because I’m a little... wound up.”

The confusion left his face then, chased off by a wicked smile. “Yes. And I enjoy unwinding you.”

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