Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(101)

“My turn,” I rasped.

“I always do as my queen commands,” he murmured.

I ran my hands over his bare chest again, slowly trailing my fingers down, down, down . . . I cupped his hard, thick cock through his leggings, making him hiss with pleasure. Then I grabbed the laces on his leggings, slowly undoing them. It didn’t take me long, and I slid my hand inside his pants, stroking him the same way that he had me.

Sullivan groaned. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert in torture, highness.”

“Oh, Sully. I haven’t begun to torture you yet.”

I gave him another wicked smile, then dropped to my knees and ran my tongue over him, licking, nibbling, and sucking, just as he had done to me. Sullivan groaned again, and his body jerked and twitched as he fought for control.

Finally, he let out another growl, reached down, and eased me away from him. Then he dropped down to his knees as well. We stared at each other for a moment, both of us breathing hard, knowing what was coming next.

Then, with one thought, we came together.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him even more feverishly. I thrust my tongue into his mouth over and over, and he matched me move for move. Sullivan kneaded my breasts again, then grabbed me around the waist, pulling me even closer. The next thing I knew, he was falling back against the gazebo floor and carrying me along with him.

Sullivan grabbed my skirt again, pulling it up and out of the way, even as I yanked the laces of his pants aside. I leaned forward, looming over him, and he reached up and gently caressed my cheek. Still staring at him, I moved forward, then slid down on top of his cock, taking him deep inside me.

We both groaned at how fantastic it felt.

I pulled back a little, then slid forward again. And then again. And then again.

Sullivan put his hands on my hips, urging me on, even as he pumped his hips up to meet mine. Our breaths came in ragged gasps, even as our movements became quicker, harder, faster. Even though he was all that I could feel, hear, taste, smell, it wasn’t enough, and I still needed—wanted—more.

Sullivan drew me down on top of him, then rolled me over onto my back. Our gazes met and held for a long, intense moment. Then I locked my legs around his waist, and he thrust even deeper into me. And he didn’t stop.

Over and over, we rocked together, that exquisite pressure building and building, until it finally coursed through us both in one bright, hot, electric explosion.

*

Afterward, we lay on the gazebo floor, our arms wrapped around each other.

I sighed with happiness. “I wish the world would stop and I could stay here forever.”

Sullivan’s arms tightened around me. “Me too, highness. Me too.”

I nuzzled my face into his neck, drinking in his clean vanilla scent. I let myself inhale it over and over again, imprinting it and this one perfect moment into my mind. Then, when I was sure that I would always remember it, that I would always remember him and how he’d made me feel, I slowly disentangled my body from his and sat up.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, duty calls, and I have to go back to the ball.”

I pulled my neckline up where it belonged, then got to my feet and retrieved my undergarments from where they had landed. I slid those on and smoothed down my skirt. My hair was a tangled mess, so I ran my fingers through the locks, trying to straighten them out.

Sullivan sat up as well. “What do you mean you have to go back to the ball?”

“I need to check on Dominic.”

I was worrying about Helene and how she still might target the crown prince, so I said the words without really thinking about them.

“I see,” Sullivan said in a cold, flat voice. “Going to make sure you’re still engaged to my brother even after you just spent the last half hour fucking me?”

I grimaced. Too late, I realized that it was exactly the wrong thing to say, especially to Sullivan, and especially given what had just happened between us.

“That’s not what I meant. You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” he snapped. “We had a nice little rendezvous, but it’s over now. You care about me, just not enough to choose me over Dominic, and I’m getting passed over for my brother yet again. I truly am the biggest fool, never learning that lesson.”

Sullivan surged to his feet, stalked over, and grabbed his clothes. He yanked on his tunic with sharp, angry motions.

I opened my mouth to tell him everything. How I had never intended to marry Dominic, how I thought that Helene had poisoned Heinrich, how our friends were watching to make sure Mortan assassins didn’t hurt his father or brother during the ball. I was going to confess it all and ask for his understanding and forgiveness.

But then a gust of wind blew through the gazebo, bringing a familiar scent along with it—the hot, caustic stench of magic.

I froze, wondering if I’d only imagined the aroma. My nose twitched, and I drew in a breath, tasting the air. The scent came again, stronger than before.

My stomach dropped. The last time I had smelled this particular stench of magic had been on the royal lawn at Seven Spire the night I had killed Vasilia. The scent now meant the same thing as it had then.

Once again, someone wanted to kill me.

I drew in another breath, this time to warn Sullivan, but more and more magic flooded the air, far too much magic for just one person. My stomach clenched again. Unless I was gravely mistaken, my would-be murderer had brought several magiers here.