A Prince of a Guy (Red Hot Royals #1)(30)

With similar bluntness, he reached for the front zipper on her sweater. Slowly it parted, and he slipped his hands inside, guiding it off her shoulders and down her arms. Then her bra. “I wish I could see you,” he whispered, laying her on her back on his jacket.

Before she could answer, before she could even think, If you could see me, we wouldn’t be doing this, his mouth nuzzled at the sensitive spot between her neck and collarbone, then lower. Cupping her breasts, plumping them up, he bent his head and opened his mouth on one, sucking, teasing with his tongue and teeth. Lifting his head, he ran a thumb over the wet peak, back and forth.

She cried out. She couldn’t help it. She was burning up from the inside out and needed him to put out the fire. Thrusting her hips helplessly against his, she continued making dark whimpering sounds she couldn’t contain. “I’ve never felt like this,” she said, horrified at the admission. “Never.”

“I know.”

Did that mean he’d never felt like this, either? In the months ahead without him, she would have liked to treasure the memory of knowing that. But he didn’t say, just kissed her hard, fueling her desperation with his own.

Then he left her for a moment, surging up to take off his shirt, and for the first time she felt like cursing the dark because she wanted to see his naked body against hers. Impossible, of course, but she could feel, and she did just that, spreading her fingers wide to touch every part of him she could reach. His broad shoulders. His strong arms. His wide chest. And that stomach… It rippled and quivered when she surged up to place her mouth right next to his belly button.

His breath caught, and she found she loved that sound. When she reached for his pants with fumbling fingers, he helped her push them down. And then he was shoving up her skirt, reaching for her tights, then her panties, until finally, oh, finally, they were slick, heated skin to slick, heated skin.

There was no way to mistake his erection, no way she wanted to. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she breathed, “Now. Please, Sean, now.”

She heard the sound of a foil packet opening and wanted to tell him to hurry, forget the condom, that for once, she wanted to be heart and soul with someone without any barriers between them, but she said nothing until he came back to her, pulled her close and entered her.

She cried out his name; he cried out hers. No longer could she think about her disguise or the dreaded condom or anything but how he made her feel, buried deep inside her.

He started to move within her, his rough, “Oh, yeah,” echoing in her mind because it had never felt like this, never. Arching, lifting her knees to take him in deeper, deeper, deeper, she had the time to gasp his name before she burst out of herself.

It startled her, the ease of it, the pure pleasure, for she’d never come before without straining, without really working for it. Two more strokes and he came, too, her name on his lips. The feel of him, the sound of him, triggered yet another orgasm for her, and it went on and on until they collapsed against each other, damp and sated and stunned.

Sean stayed over her for a long, long moment, his arms quaking faintly. She savored the last bit of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, Carly rolled to her back and studied the dark sky. Sean came up on one elbow and looked at her, his dark gaze gleaming in the night.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice low and direct.

“More than okay.” She already wanted to touch him again, desperately. Wanted him to touch her.

So when he slipped an arm beneath her, she eagerly turned to him, curving her body into his. She held her breath, knowing men didn’t want to be clung to, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Her face was against his neck so that she could breathe in his scent. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. One of her thighs fell between his, as if their being tangled together, naked, on the beach, was the most natural thing in the world.

It felt so surreal, not being able to see him. Surreal to be stroking, exploring to her heart’s delight, but she did it anyway. He seemed perfectly content to let her, as he had his own exploring to do. No part of her was left unstroked, unkissed.

She eagerly returned the favor. She found that when she slid a finger over his nipple, his breathing changed, shallowed. And that she could make him tremble by stroking a finger down his belly. When she cupped his sex, which was already hard again, he rolled her to her back, slid his fingers through hers and kissed her in an unrushed but heated way that brought the immediacy back between them.

“I have two more condoms.”

Against him, she smiled. “Wouldn’t want to waste them.”

He nudged his erection between her thighs. “Now?”

“Oh, please, now.”

Their joining was much more leisurely this time, but no less hot for taking their time. If anything, the feelings were intensified because of all the slow, heated touches and kisses and stroking. And this time, when they’d finished, they dozed off in the moonless night.

Carly woke some time later to Sean’s hands on her body again. He seemed enthralled by her, which she understood, because she was equally fascinated with his body.

He ran his hands over her breasts, her belly, between her thighs. She came like that, then again when he moved inside her, thrusting with deep, rhythmic strokes.

Finally, sated and wobbling like drunks, they rose and faced each other, sharing a kiss so sweet, so deep and tender, Carly felt not only her heart but her soul stir.