Page 17 of Stolen Vows

I shouldreallyleave her be.

But I don’t.

Ignoring my throbbing cock, I immerse myself in her scent, the sensation of her skin against mine, the firmness of her body in my arms. Fuck, am I really this starved of human touch that I’ll torture myself, with a woman I don’t particularly like, just to feel her body close to mine?

I shy away from the obvious answer to that question.

Instead, I let myself relax into her soft curves. It’s late, and since I never sleep more than a few hours, I’ll be up by six, and gone before she so much as stirs. She’ll never know I was here.

Because that would end in a catastrophe.

* * *

“Get off of me!” A shrill, feminine voice screams into my ear a second before I’m shoved off the bed and land on the floor. The impact jolts me fully awake. Though my mental faculties are not yet operating at one hundred percent, because I immediately leap up, presenting her with a full-frontal view of my raging morning wood.

This elicits another shriek from the girl. Her wide, innocent eyes glued to my cock. Unfortunately,thatlook on her face initiates a series of dirty thoughts so vivid that my dick twitches like it has a mind of its own.

I turn away, giving her an unhindered view of my backside instead. Is that really any better? No.

With a curse, I find a pair of boxers and slip them on. They do little to conceal my hard-on.

Turning back to face the girl in my bed, my gaze slides past her horrified expression to the light streaming through the gap in the curtain, then to the bedside clock. It’s almost ten in the morning.

I overslept. That’s an understatement.

I have never slept past six in the morning, not since I was a teenager, no matter how late I’m up the night before. And I was still deeply asleep when she so rudely woke me up.

Vaguely, I recall dreams involving the girl’s sweet mouth wrapped around my cock. Apparently, I was unwilling to wake from that delight.

Fuck. I drag my fingers through my hair. What is happening to me? I try to shrug it off as a peculiar set of circumstances that have thrown me off course—momentarily. I need to pull myself together.

“What are you doing in my room? In mybed?” she demands, drawing the covers up to her chin to cover her nakedness.

A smirk touches my lips. “This ismyroom andmybed, principessa.”

It takes her all of three seconds to glance around the space before her jaw drops open in horror. I have the sudden urge to shove my cock between those parted lips.

“Why…” She clears her throat. “Why am I in your room?”

“You don’t remember what happened last night?”

Her forehead bunches in thought. It’s fucking adorable.

Shit, I’m losing my goddamn mind. Nothing about this woman is adorable. She’s the bane of my existence at this point.

Hastily, I grab fresh clothes from my closet and dress. I’d normally shower first, but today there’s no time. I need to get myself under control, and that little vixen out of my bed before I do something we’ll both regret.

“I remember,” she says as I emerge from my closet. “You rescued me?” That sounds more like an accusation than a thank you.

“Yes, I did. You’re welcome.”

She shoots me a withering glance. “I’m sure you didn’t do it for me. So why should I thank you? We both know you’re not the knight in shining armor type.”

That gives me pause. Yes, I’ve made certain to give her that impression. Now that she has it, I want to rip it away from her so she’ll look at me with that same adoration I saw in her eyes in the library.

Why? I have no fucking clue.

So, I double-down on her original impression. “You’re right, I didn’t do it for you.” I grab a pair of cufflinks off the nightstand, and continue, “I need you alive for a little while longer.”