The Leopard Prince (Princes #2)(79)

But he simply returned her gaze and removed his breeches. This made her temporarily forget where she was in the fairy tale. She watched as he sat on the bed beside her, quite nude.

“And?” he murmured. “Is that it? The Leopard Prince dies and the young king marries the beautiful princess?”

George reached up and untied the black ribbon holding his queue. She ran her fingers through his brown hair, spreading it on his shoulders. “No.”

“Then?” “Turn around.”

Harry arched his eyebrows, but turned so his back was to her.

“The young king presented himself to the father king,” George said quietly as she stroked her hands down his back, feeling the bumps of his spine. “And the father king had to admit that he wore the chain described by the Golden Eel. Reluctantly, he sent for his daughter, the beautiful princess.” She paused to dig her thumbs into the muscles that sloped up from his shoulders to his neck.

Harry let his head fall forward. “Ahhh.” “But the beautiful princess took one look at the young king and started laughing. Naturally, all the courtiers and ladies and lords and the people who hang about a royal court just stared at the beautiful princess. They could not understand why she laughed.” She worked her fingers into the muscles at the back of his head.

Harry groaned.

George leaned forward and whispered in his ear as she bore down on his shoulder muscles. “Finally her father, the king, said, ‘What causes such mirth, my daughter?’ And the beautiful princess said, ‘Why, the chain doesn’t fit him!’ ”

“How can a chain not fit?” Harry mumbled over his shoulder.

“Shhh.” George pushed his head back down. “I don’t know. It probably hung to his knees or something.” She dug her thumbs into the hills along his spine. “Anyway, the beautiful princess looked around the court and said, ‘There. That is the man the chain belongs to.’ And, of course, it was the Leopard Prince—”

“What, she just picked him out of the crowd?” He twisted out of her hands this time.

“Yes!” George placed her hands on her hips. “Yes, she just picked him out of the crowd. He was an enchanted Leopard Prince, remember. I’m sure he looked quite distinguished.”

“He was dying, you said.” Harry was almost surly now. “He probably looked a right mess.”

“Well, he didn’t after the beautiful princess put the chain back on him.” George crossed her arms. Really. Men were quite unreasonable sometimes. “He got better right away, and the beautiful princess kissed him, and they were married.”

“Probably it was the kiss that revived him.” Harry’s mouth quirked. He leaned toward her. “And was the spell broken? He never turned into a leopard again?”

She blinked. “Cook’s aunt didn’t say. I would think so, wouldn’t you? I mean, that is the usual thing in fairy tales, the spell is broken and they marry.”

She was frowning thoughtfully and was consequently caught off guard when Harry lunged and captured her wrists. He pulled her hands above her head and loomed over her menacingly. “But perhaps the princess would have preferred that he remain a Leopard Prince.”

“Whatever do you mean?” George asked, batting her eyelashes.

“I mean”—he nibbled at her neck—“it might have been more interesting on their wedding night.”

She squirmed under the sensations he was arousing and stifled a giggle. “Wouldn’t that be bestiality?”

“No.” Harry took her wrists in one hand and used the other to whip off her covers. “I’m afraid you are mistaken in that, my lady.” He flung up her shift, exposing her nude legs. She spread them invitingly, and he settled his hips there, making her gasp at the contact. “Bestiality,” Harry murmured in her ear, “is congress between a human and a common animal, such as a horse or bull or rooster. Sexual activity with a leopard, on the other hand, is merely exotic.” He nudged his hips, burrowing the length of his penis between her folds and touching her just there.

George’s eyes closed. “A rooster?” “In theory.” He licked along her neck. “But how could a rooster—?”

He used his free hand to pinch her nipple.

She moaned and arched beneath him, spreading her knees wider.

“You seem very interested in roosters,” he purred. Harry rubbed his thumb over her nipple.

He hadn’t moved his hips since that first time. George tried to bump hers up to encourage him, but his full weight lay heavily on her, and she realized he wasn’t going to move until he wanted to. “Actually, you could say I’m more interested in one cock in particular.”

“My lady.” He raised his head, and she could see the censorious frown on his lips. “I’m afraid I do not approve of such language.”

She felt a gush of erotic desire. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her eyelashes demurely. “Whatever can I do to win your approval?”

There was silence.

George began to wonder if she had overstepped some boundary. But then she glanced up and saw Harry trying to repress a smile.

He bent his head until they were nose-to-nose. “It won’t be easy to get in my good graces again.” He flicked her nipple with a fingernail.