Page 30 of Wicked Prince

"I was right," he says, his voice still husky as he settles with his elbow propped up on the mattress.

I blink in confusion, because the blood hasn't made its way back to my brain yet. "About what?"

"The way you sound moaning my name," he answers, leaning in to kiss me before I can respond. His eyes are lit with amusement, but there's still a trace of tenderness as he caresses my cheek and strokes a strand of hair behind my shoulder. "It's perfect."

My face grows warm, and I look away from him, gathering the fallen sheet to my chest since the vulnerability no longer feels quite as empowering now that we're separate entities again.

"Just don't get used to it," I mutter.

"No?" His grin widens, and he pulls me against his chest. My limbs are still too weak and tingly to put up much of a fight, and I have to admit, as unexpected as it is, snuggling up against his side feels good. "Guess we'll just have to see about that."

I blow a puff of air through my nose, all the snark I can muster.

Lulled by the recent knowledge of how his pulse feels inside me, I lay my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

This is probably the most dangerous part of the whole evening. Letting myself get comfortable. Letting any part of me believe that his arms are a safe place to rest, even for a moment.

I've always been the smart girl. The one with a good head on her shoulders. But after tonight, I'm not sure I can lay claim to that.

Who I'll be instead remains to be seen.

ChapterThirteen

AMELIA

Iopen my eyes to sunlight streaming in through the windows, and when I realize it's coming from the wrong direction, I sit up with a gasp.

It doesn't take long for last night to come back to me, and man, what a night it was.

I slept so hard I can't even remember having any dreams, but the second my mind is awake, all these thoughts and questions start flooding in. First and foremost is the realization that I've woken up to an empty bed.

Can't say I'm surprised, but given that this is Lorenzo's apartment, I thought I'd be the one doing the old walk of shame.

I roll onto my side, breathing in the scent of his pillow. It still smells like him. Cologne and the masculine scent that's just him.

For a few moments, I just want to lie here and try to figure out how I feel about everything. Then again, a few weeks probably wouldn't be long enough to accomplish that.

Even though I'm here, and the pleasant ache of my body leaves no room to doubt it's real, I'm still having a hard time believing it. I wish I could say the regret was sinking in, but even though I woke up alone, I really don't feel that way. I'm not sure what I feel, but as uncertain as the future is, last night was… nice.

Better than nice. I felt things I never even thought were possible for me, and if nothing else, it's a memory. I always wanted my first time to be special. To bewithsomeone special.

Lorenzo certainly qualifies as that.

Eventually, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and decide to pull on his discarded T-shirt while I collect my fallen clothing strewn across his apartment. When I open his door, the smell of fresh bacon immediately wafts over to me, and I'm surprised to find Lorenzo standing at the stove with his back to me.

He turns to look over my shoulder, giving me a knowing look I know too well.

"Sneaking off, are you?"

I lean against the door frame and folding my arms since his T-shirt is thin enough to be revealing. And yeah, I bared it all for him the night before, but that doesn't mean he gets a free show whenever he wants.

"I assumed you had other plans," I reply.

He raises an eyebrow. "You really don't think very highly of me, do you?"

"Would it be the first time you slipped out on a one-night stand without notice?" I challenge.

He snorts, turning back to the stove to turn off the burner. "No, but like you said, you're not most girls."

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