Crown Jewels (Off-Limits Romance #1)(45)

“Eighty-something.”

“Wow.”

He nods toward the stairs, and we walk back up and out. He shuts the door hard, and I notice that the grass flap over it is fake.

He folds his arms. “It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah? Where do your views on the death penalty fall?”

“Not in favor.”

“For anybody?”

He shrugs.

“Does it make you uncomfortable? Your family’s past?”

He gives me a miserable-looking smile.

I step over to him on a whim and wrap my arms around his hard waist, squeezing gently. “Poor Liam.” I lean back a little, so I can see his face. He’s giving me a funny, sad smile.

I run a hand over his hair, which at some point, he’s pulled back into a bun. “FYI, I don’t know exactly how conservative your views are on the death penalty, but mine are ‘anti’ too. I say put all those dudes to work. Let them make things. Like a sweat shop.”

Prince Liam laughs. “Like a sweat shop? Better not say that on TV, Lucy.” His hands run up and down my arms as I grin.

“That’s why I’m not on TV. Can’t censor this.” I wag my ass before I think about what I’m doing. Liam throws his head back laughing. Then he smacks my ass.

I snap my fingers in his face. “I know you didn’t.”

He slaps it again, looking smirky and smug.

“Try to catch me!”

I take off running, and Liam is on me in just a few seconds, wrapping his arms around me from behind and holding me still so I can feel him hard against my ass. Then he eases me down to the ground and rolls me over on my back, so I’m facing him. He straddles me.

When I feel a shot of panic, he must sense it, because shifts so he’s beside me…taking my face in his hands and kissing me gently.

“I don’t even…” he breathes… “want a girl. I don’t want anybody. But you, Lucy Rhodes…”

He shakes his head. His eyes on mine are dark and earnest. Then it’s just his warm, soft lips; the scrape of his beard; the scent of his skin; the warmth of him—Prince Liam, hovering over me, the feel of his chest as it rises and falls in time with mine. The two of us, pressed together on the grass. And I can only kiss him back.

The feel of him, the taste of him… It’s everything I want. The way he strokes his fingertips into my hair and wraps a hand behind my head and holds me to him. It’s so gentle. Soon, one of his arms is wrapped around my back, I’m being lifted onto his lap. I’m limp except my hands, which cling onto his shirt as we devour one another.

I start having to break away to get my breath. He won’t even do that. The more we kiss, the faster his chest pumps, the louder his breaths, the more shaky his hands.

Am I really kissing Prince Liam and his hands are shaking?

He shifts, and I feel him through his pants. I feel how hard and thick and long he is. My hand trails down his chest, over his pants waist, until I’m cupping him. I’m pressing against him, curving my thumb and forefinger around his big, plump head. And Liam is kissing my neck—hard. The pressure, and the pleasure, make me cry out, my voice harsh against the waves.

Liam moans. I think he says my name. I don’t know because my breasts are pressed against his chest, his hand is rubbing me, his fingers finding the right spot despite my pants.

And then his magic fingers go away. He’s got his hands around my head, my forehead pressed against his. His eyes are on my eyes. His lids are low, and I can see the yellow flecks inside the sea of hazel.

“Lucy… Christ.”

I feel his fingers clench against my scalp before he lets me go. His mouth is slightly open, his eyes wide.

Liam leans back on his thick arms, draws his legs up so his knees are almost to his chest. Then he rises. Turns away from me.

Well, shit…

I rub my hands over my eyes and tell myself to calm down.

Calm down, Lucy… Calm.

Damnit, I can’t look at him. I’m embarrassed.

“Lucy. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Something about his voice enables me to lift my head. I look into his eyes, finding them wide and full of remorse. I guess that’s what it is. He looks almost scared.

“Why be sorry?” I ask softly.

He pushes a hand into his hair, shaking his head as he looks at the grass.

“Seriously,” I offer. “It wasn’t just you.”

He makes a low sound of disgust. “I don’t want to be this way with you.”

“What way?”

Liam sighs. “I’m going to control myself. So you can have a good time here.”

God. So I’m friend-listed. Why is that so depressing? I push my own hair out of my face and nod, trying my best to keep my face neutral.

“I’m having fun. No worries. Seriously.”

He leans down and helps me to my feet. He draws me to him for just a moment, and I can feel his lips on my hair. Then his hands are rubbing up and down my arms. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” I lie.

Back on the horses, riding down the beach toward the path back to the castle, I tell myself to forget what just happened. He’s trying to be a good host. He doesn’t want me to feel…what?

Is this about him feeling too aggressive? Maybe that’s it. He’s such a manwhore. Even though he’s also really nice, and really caring, he’s a manwhore. Maybe he’s embarrassed about that? He doesn’t want me to feel like he’s taking advantage. That’s probably it. By the time we get into the grassy fields around the castle, I’m over my hurt feelings.