Park Avenue Prince(51)

“You know what would round this birthday off kinda perfectly?” I asked and grinned up at him.

“What’s that, Grace Astor?”

I shrugged. “An orgasm.”

“Oh, I see.” He nodded. “You’re expecting me to put out.”

My laugh was interrupted as he slid his hand down my leg and gripped the hem of my dress. “It is my birthday.”

“Did you really think I would have an evening with you and not spend the whole time wanting you naked and under me?” He pulled up the fabric, his hand rough against the skin of my thighs, and every cell in my body tightened.

The atmosphere shifted and I tried hard to steady my breathing. Just a few cursory words and his fingers on my thighs had me ready to beg for more.

“You think I don’t notice how your breathing changes when I touch you. Tonight, when I first saw you at the restaurant, you think I didn’t see your nipples harden as I put my hand around your waist?”

I could hide nothing from this man. I didn’t want to.

His fingers pushed into my underwear.

“I understand how much you want me. Because I want you that bad too. Every second. You can’t think for a moment I’d not want to feel this.” His finger pushed between my folds and I gasped, partly in pleasure but mostly in relief that he was here with me, making me feel so good in every way. “That I don’t want to feel you wrapped tight around my cock.”

I gripped his thighs on either side of me and pushed my hips up, wanting his finger deeper.

I tugged at my blouse, needing to feel his hands everywhere. The buttons were stiff and I was impatient. His fingers stroked me up and down, as he unfastened the buttons with his free hand. I sank back against him as he took over.

“Why would you think I could do without this any more than you could?” he asked.

And that was why he was so different to anyone that had come before him—we were equals. We’d had very different lives but we wanted each other for the same reasons and just as badly.

He pulled my bra down and I cried out as my nipple grazed against the lace. He groaned from behind me, removing his hand from my underwear. Before I had a chance to complain, he’d stood up, taking me with him, me still facing forward.

“Stand,” he said. And he let go of me and moved away. Starting with my shirt, he peeled everything I was wearing from my body until I was totally naked.

I felt his hands at my feet, sliding up to my ankles. He must be kneeling behind me. “I want every part of you.” His palms pushed up my legs. His movements weren’t fluttering or tantalizing. They were sure and possessive. He ran his hands up the back of my thigh and then gripped my ass—squeezing and kneading. “And your beautiful ass, Grace Astor. That’s mine too.”

As much as it felt good, he was touching me for him, not me. And I loved it.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“And this.” His hands slid over my hips. He was standing now, pressing his cheek against mine. “This beautiful *,” he said as he roughly pushed his finger against my clit. “That’s all mine too. Everything. Every part of you.”

My knees weakened. It was true. My body responded as if I’d been waiting for him my whole life and now I’d found him. It was awakening properly for the first time ever.

His other hand grabbed my breasts and I wanted to melt into him, become part of him. “Tell me I have all of you,” he whispered.

I reached over my head behind me, threading my fingers through his hair. “You do.”

His hand left my clit and it was only the sound of his zipper that made me feel better.

“Condom,” I managed to choke out.

He pulled me back toward him. “I got it.”

His fingers slid lengthways between my butt cheeks, skirting the puckered * and making me shiver. “So wet, Princess. I get you so wet.” I was over my embarrassment of how much he turned me on. There was no point trying to hide it. As he said, he saw it all.

“You got me so hard.”

And then I felt him. The tip of him. The hot, hard end of him.

Sam just slid his cock along my sex, between my cheeks, making me wait.

“Sam. Don’t torture me. It’s my birthday.”

“Do you want it so bad it hurts yet?” His voice was deep and raw. “That’s what you do to me. I want you so bad right now it hurts.”

Before I had time to absorb what he was saying, he was inside me in one swift movement.

It was relief, pleasure, desire all mixed into one. And my knees buckled.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, holding me at the waist. Me impaled on him. “Is it too much?”

It was.

“Sam,” I said. I couldn’t think of the words in the right order. I couldn’t tell him how good it was.

He pulled out and guided me to the couch. I sat astride him. “We can take it at your pace. We can do it how you like it.”

I realized I had my eyes closed, lost in a trance. I opened them and he was looking at me. He had a slight sheen to his forehead and I reached out and stroked his hair. “I like it every way with you.”

He lifted my hips and pulled me on to him again. My body was still weak, but the couch and his hands supported me, and I placed my palms against his chest.

He blinked lazily as he kept his focus on my face and began to lift my hips, just slightly, and then pull me back onto him. I let him move me, watching his jaw clench when he hit the end of me. He was so deep and it was so good.