Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(43)

She again tried to draw her hand away, but he held on tight, grasping the other, as well, and bringing them up to meet. He stroked her silken skin and lifted her joined hands to his lips, kissing each softly then placing a palm on each side of his face.

“I’m sorry, Jasminda.” He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to take the pain evident on her face.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For not telling you. For being unable to be just Jack for you. Trust me, I never wanted any of this.”

“Why not?”

“My elder brother was groomed to rule. I was never as smart or accomplished as he. Never as good at all of this.” He waved around the lavish room. “Most of my childhood was spent in barracks, training for the army. I don’t believe I’ll ever feel like a prince, not on the inside. I should have told you . . . I just couldn’t bear to.”

Her thumbs skimmed his cheeks, and she slid out of his grasp to brush his forehead, his chin. A finger grazed his lips causing him to shudder.

She kept hold of his face but rose from the ground and sat on his knee, leaning her forehead to meet his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight, never wanting to let go.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” she whispered, stroking his face, her lips a hairsbreadth from his own. “I cannot keep you, but I cannot turn you away.”

Jack nudged her head up and drank her in. When her gaze dropped to his lips, he leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his. They kissed tentatively at first. He allowed her to explore, touching her lips softly to his, then with more pressure. Eventually, she tilted her head and opened for him. He caressed her tongue, his control nearly slipping when she groaned into his mouth.

She gripped the back of his head tighter, her mouth hungrily attacking his. Her taste was so sweet, the scent of her slowly driving him crazy. He pulled away, but she leaned in, not letting him go.

“Last night I— Perhaps we should slow down,” he said, shifting her in his lap, moving her away from his rapidly growing erection. His desire for her was intense, but she would likely need time to trust him. He couldn’t push. It was enough that she was in his arms again.

Her chest heaved, thrusting her breasts up seductively as she sat atop him, eyes still closed, kiss-swollen lips slightly apart. “Slow down?”

“Yes, darling. I may be a prince, but I’m only human.” That night at the base he’d lain awake, convinced every nerve ending in his body was connected to the place where their hands had touched. Now, she was so much closer and he was having an even harder time holding himself back. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

She dragged her hands through his hair, igniting sparks of pleasure that rolled down his spine.

“I want you to be certain . . .” He sucked in a breath as she ran her fingers down his chest, then up again. She ducked her head and kissed his collarbone. He did not trust himself for much longer.

“Jasminda,” he groaned.

She shifted her knee ever so slightly, rubbing against his straining cock. “Yes?” she smiled wickedly, her mouth edging closer to his nipple.

“You’re killing me.”

“Then let it be a warm death,” she said, hiking up her skirt so that she could fully straddle him.




Sitting on his lap, she delighted in his unmistakable desire for her as it settled between her legs. A blast of pleasure assaulted her as she brushed against his hardness. She should be appalled at her forwardness. The rich, city girls he was used to were probably far more demure. Even prettied up in a fine gown after a fancy bath, Jasminda would never be like them. But he had come to her. He wanted her. It was not possible, and yet here he was.

Jack’s skin burned hot beneath her hands. The contrast of hard and soft made her fingers long to stroke him everywhere.

He stilled her hands. “Jasminda, are you certain?” The heat in his eyes was tempered with concern.

She nodded. “I would like to have this with you.” Unspoken was the reality that this could well be her only chance. He could be her lover. Perhaps not the way she’d imagined, perhaps not even for more than this one night, but if that was all she had, then she would take it. Leave the teasing flirtations to the girls bred for such. Jasminda far preferred the women in the magazines, unashamed of their bodies and the pleasures they could wring from them. She would take this night with this man, this prince, and hold it close in her memory forever.

“You have done this before, I would imagine.” She laughed at his sheepish expression. “Handsome soldiers are not the lonely sort.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, nose, and lips, then brought his hand to her breast and trapped it under hers. “You can show me.”

“But I’ve . . . I don’t want you to think . . .” He shook his head. “It was different before.”

She sat back, dropping his hand, her skin rapidly cooling. “Am I so different?”

“You are. In every way.”

Her mind raced as doubts swarmed. She drew away and moved to stand, but he wrapped his arms around her.

“Jasminda, don’t mistake me. You are like nothing I ever thought possible. You are like no one else I have ever met. And I am glad of it. You are remarkable.”

She did not want to feel the joy his words inspired, the resurgence of hope within her. Nothing had changed. He was still a prince and she a farm girl with the wrong skin color. Tonight was just a night. But as his arms tightened, pressing her against him, her heart threatened to revolt.