Park Avenue Prince(52)

I concentrated on the press of his thumbs below my hips, the hard muscles under my palms. Anything to stop myself from coming because I wanted this to last forever.

His eyes flickered from my face to my chest and the sway of my breasts as they lifted with each thrust.

“You look so beautiful,” he said.

I shuddered and he groaned as I involuntarily squeezed him.

“Jesus, Grace.” He picked up his pace, lifting and pulling.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from crying out, but it didn’t work and I screamed out a plea. For more. For Sam. For this moment to never end.

I began to move my hips a little more, increasing the push and the pull, speeding up the pleasure as it circled us both.

I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

I wanted this moment.

I clung to his chest, my fingernails digging into his skin, and he sat up, pulling us chest to chest, his mouth finding mine.

His kisses were jerky and staccato as if he were using any energy he had left to pour into me. His breathing was labored and he groaned. “I can feel you. So tight. You’re almost . . .” Before he had time to finish his sentence, I was spiraling into orgasm and he was following, pumping his hips from the sofa. His expression was equal parts tight and soft as we gazed into each other’s eyes through our climax.

I wanted for nothing with Sam Shaw in my world.





“They’re both great—the perfect combination of soft and firm,” I said, staring at Bergdorf’s ceiling as Sam wriggled next to me. We were furniture shopping—bed shopping more specifically—and we’d narrowed it down to two. “You should make the decision. It’s your bed.”

“You’ll be sleeping in it as much as I will,” Sam replied.

I turned to face him, making no effort to hide my grin. In the weeks since my birthday, there was no longer any discussion of whether we’d see each other that night. We were together every night, but he came to Brooklyn because I refused to sleep on his mattress. I might deny being a princess, but a mattress on the floor was just a step too far. “Well, why not buy both of them? You have four bedrooms to fill, after all.”

Other than not having a bed to sleep on, part of the reason we didn’t spend much time at his apartment was because it felt odd to be back there. Park Avenue was the symbol of everything I hadn’t wanted to become. I didn’t want to be a Park Avenue princess, didn’t want to marry a man I didn’t love because it was a so-called good match. I didn’t want to cheat on him to get an escape, but stay with him because I liked the trappings of my life. Trappings that just didn’t matter.

I didn’t want to turn into my mother.

In so many ways, 740 Park Avenue seemed like my past, not my future.

“My place is closer to work for both of us,” Sam said.

He’d never really brought up the fact that we always stayed at my place in Brooklyn, so I hadn’t realized it was a problem for him. “You’d prefer we stay at yours?”

He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the mattress and began bouncing up and down. “It makes sense. It’s closer.”

“I guess,” I said. “And we don’t have to spend every night together.” Things had moved quickly with Sam and me. It had been an intense couple of months and although everything seemed right—perfect even—it probably was a good thing to have a bit of space. I really liked him—like, lightning bolt out of the clear blue liked him—but I’d been let down enough to know I should be holding back a little. I was sure now that I’d suggested it, he’d jump at spending some time apart.

Sam stopped bouncing and turned to me with a frown. “You don’t want to stay at my place?”

I shrugged. “I like Brooklyn.”

“Because it’s your place, or for some other reason?” He held out his hand, offering to pull me up.

“Park Avenue isn’t really my thing anymore,” I replied, keeping my hands by my sides. “I’m not the princess you think I am.” Wasn’t he happy I wasn’t demanding to see him every night?

Sam stood and rounded the bed so he was standing over me. “I feel like I’m missing something.” He stared at me as if he were trying to soak up an explanation from just being near me.

“You’re not missing anything,” I said. “Don’t you want some time apart?”

He frowned. “I like things how they are.” My body sagged into the mattress. Why did he have to be so cute? Every time I gave him an opportunity to let me down, he doubled down and made me feel even more adored. This guy could really break my heart one day.

“It’s just easier for me to stay at my place. I have all my clothes in Brooklyn. Occasionally I even have food in the refrigerator and—”

“And we’re sleeping in a bed where other men have been before me.”

I just stared at him. Sam was the least insecure man I’d ever met, but he didn’t like anything to do with my previous boyfriends. “Okay. So I’ll buy a new bed.” It wasn’t jealousy that made Sam see red, but the fact he didn’t think any of my exes had been good enough for me.

“You don’t think it’s easier to come to my place?”

Everything was easier on Park Avenue because no one could live there without a ton of money.