The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(123)

Pushing himself up, Josh rests on his heels, his lips quirked at each corner, a grin being restrained. “Spread ’em, ma’am.”

My thighs part in an instant, taking my dignity with them. I couldn’t care less, and Josh’s suppressed grin breaks, lighting up the room. He drops forward, his palms meeting the soft mattress either side of my head, his face suspended above me. “Good little princess.”

Pure contentment makes my heart swell, my smile the widest it’s probably ever been. “I’ve missed you so much.” Reaching up to his face, I rest my palm on his cheek, feeling his bristle as he rears back and falls to his forearms, our torsos coming together. His slow sink into me is unimaginably measured. I sigh, sliding my hands over his shoulders, the feeling of completeness overwhelming me. For the first time in my existence, I have a purpose. I have Josh, and I have my dreams that can now be a reality.

Measured movements steal breath after breath, his face so close to mine that I inhale his exhales. His eyes never waiver from mine, his palms holding my neck as he rocks with painstaking precision into me. “Perfect, huh?” he whispers, bringing our mouths together, our lips resting against each other’s.

“Perfect,” I say, my hips rolling to meet each plunge. This is slow, purposeful lovemaking, and if there was a word that surpassed perfect, it would be that. Our closeness, our connection, the understanding passing between our locked eyes as he moves above me carefully. Our steady heart rates, our slipping skin, our slow rolling tongues. Everything we are and have in this moment is beyond my wildest imagination. Years of bowing to my father as king has made me somewhat intolerant. Inflexible. I don’t need a new lord over me, but I can readily admit that Josh Jameson is my king. Willingly, my king. I can defer to him because I feel secure in his love. His actions speak of adoration and selflessness, and it humbles me to feel I am worthy. I bow to no one except him, and it is easy to do, because I know we will face everything together as equals. He loves me for who I am.

Pressure swirls in my lower tummy, the soft, velvet feel of him stoking me with perfect friction, directing it all south. I hum into his mouth, my fingers curling into the flesh of his shoulders. “Grip harder,” he mumbles, moving his hands into my wet hair and fisting, as if demonstrating. I follow his order without question, digging my fingernails into his skin, my kiss beginning to get messy. “That’s it.” His hips jolt, his control wavering, too. “Jesus, Adeline, how did I survive before you?”

I wonder the same thing, my life seeming so bland before Josh waltzed into it. He bites down harshly on my lip, his control slipping further, and pulls away, bracing his impressive torso on rigid arms. His new position gives him more leverage, and he makes the most of it, abandoning his careful plunges and replacing them with brutal pounds. My hands slap into his forearms to support me, my body absorbing each of his hits on a yell. The twist of gratification on his face is like nothing else, his mind lost, his need raw. I’m held captive by the sight, forgetting my own need to let the pleasure claim me. Just seeing him so absorbed in the feel of me is pleasurable enough, watching him lose himself so completely. I want to watch him fall apart, see the orgasm rip through him, hear the sounds of him fighting through the intensity. So I focus on Josh alone, forgetting my own physical pleasure and indulging in the exquisite sight of his instead. I marvel at every incredible second of his mission to find the long-overdue release.

His cheeks blow out, his eyes wild as they stare at me. “Go,” I order, clawing my nails into his forearms and flexing my hips, taking him to the hilt.

“You,” he all but gasps, frantic in his pace.

I shake my head and ensure his temptation to pull back is hindered by moving my hands to his arse and pushing him on. “Go,” I demand again.

“Oh, fuck, Adeline,” he wheezes, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw pulsing.

“Open your eyes, Josh.”

They flip open, the blue swimming. “Damn you, woman.” His thrusts take on a new level of brutal, and he slams his way home on constant barks, his eyes moving back and forth between my face and my bouncing breasts. I know the moment he tips the edge, the feel of him inside of me thickening and pulsing.

“There it is.” I drag my nails over the rise of his glorious arse and his head drops, sweat dripping from his brow, his body slowing. He comes, and it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, watching him lose all control of his body, everything limp, his arms buckling so he plummets to my front. Hiding his face in my neck, he fights for breath, his hips involuntarily jerking as he empties himself into me, my internal walls dragging on his twitching cock. I smile and lock him in my arms, not in the least bit unfulfilled. “Welcome home,” I whisper, turning my nose into his damp hair and inhaling him into me completely.

Josh pants, a dead weight spread all over me. My smile widens, my hold tightening. “I love you so much, woman.” He tries to kiss my neck. It’s feeble. And it only makes me even happier. To know how knocked out he is. To feel him touching me everywhere. To sustain his weight. Just to know how close he is.

“Go to sleep,” I say, feeling my own eyes getting heavy.

“I need to see to you.” He sounds about ready to do that as I am to release him. Not ready. Ever.

I hush him and close my eyes, and it is not long before I hear his soft snoring in my ear.

That’s perfect, too.