The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(71)
“You want the whole world to see me tanning your ass?” He cocks a cheeky eyebrow, casting light on the dismal conversation.
I shake my head no, but truly, this isn’t about our sexual relationship. This is about me being able to step out on the arm of a man I choose. A man I know is good for me. More than anything, I know this man is good for me. I want to yell from the rooftops that we are dating … or whatever this is. I want to hold his hand in public so they know he is mine. But it’s horribly out of my reach. My despondency eats at the corners of my contentment, and to let it take hold would be to let my royal life win. It takes all my might, but I force back the depressing thoughts and grab onto some fortitude. Tonight has been wonderful. I’m not ruining it now. I don’t want to talk about how we can’t have each other. “Tell me about your childhood,” I say in an attempt to steer my thoughts to more appealing things. “I want to know everything there is to know about you.”
“My childhood?”
“Yes, your mum, your dad.”
Suddenly very awkward, Josh pulls away and takes another drink, and my curiosity goes into overdrive.
“The senator isn’t my biological father.” Josh swallows and looks past me, and I’m once again struck silent. “My real father was an alcoholic. A bully. A womanizer. A criminal.” He looks at me and smiles, raising his glass. “He was a nasty bastard. Cheers to that.” Then he downs the lot and breathes out, dropping his head back and looking at the ceiling.
“I’m so sorry.” I curse myself the moment I apologize, because I get the feeling Josh doesn’t want that.
“Don’t be sorry. Mom should have left him.”
“She didn’t?”
“She didn’t need to in the end. He was driving home from the bar in his truck one night and ran someone down. He was wasted. Killed the woman, a mother of three children under five.” Josh shudders, and I find my hand over my mouth, stunned. “He was sent down for manslaughter, and you know what?” He looks at me, his face a little twisted from his inner turmoil. “It was probably the happiest day of my damned life, and the guilt I have for feeling that way when three little girls lost their mom tears me up if I think too much about it. So I don’t.” He nods decisively, swaps his glass for the bottle, and knocks it back. I feel rotten for bringing it up now. “It was only when my father was locked up that Mom felt safe.” He smiles fondly. “Then she met the senator and he made her so incredibly happy, treated her like she deserved, and took me in under his wing. I wasn’t the easiest kid, but he didn’t give up on me, and I’ll never forget that.”
I reach over and take his hand, threading my fingers through his. I sensed Senator Jameson was a good man. He radiates warmth toward Josh. “That’s really admirable.”
“He’s a good man. Said I needed something to express myself, and he was right. Acting came so naturally, and he set me up with contacts in New York. The rest is history.”
“A good history.” I smile, encouraging one from Josh.
“I didn’t turn out too bad, I suppose. I’m sitting here with a member of the Royal fuckin’ Family, after all. Cheers to me.”
I laugh a little, moving a little closer to him. There’s been no mention of Josh’s mother in present tense. I’m almost too afraid to ask. “Your mum?”
“Died five years after she escaped my dad. Just two years after she married the senator. Cancer. Fuckin’ cruel, right?”
I squeeze his hand, making a point not to say how sorry I am. He knows. “Right.”
Turning his face to me, he smiles. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”
A sense of privilege overwhelms me. So does a need to bring us back to the here and now. I push myself up and crawl onto him, pressing into his shoulders to force him to his back. “Therapy is over, Mr. Jameson. At least, the talking part is.” I drop my mouth to his and tease his lips as I unfasten my robe and pull it open.
He skates his palms onto my arse and helps me forward until my entrance is lined perfectly with his mouth. “Your throne awaits, Your Highness.” He blows cool air across my sensitive flesh, and my body folds with pleasure.
I groan and my hands meet the side of the couch to hold me up. I slowly release the muscles in my thighs and lower myself onto his waiting tongue. I’m immediately engulfed in ecstasy, and my head is immediately tossed back. “Oh … God, yes.”
Light flicks skim the tip of my buzzing clit, constant and consistent, working me into a fevered mess of a woman. His palms land on my breasts with a slap, molding and squeezing viciously. Light flicks turn into little nibbles. Little nibbles turn into long lashes of his tongue. Long lashes turn into firm circles. He is feasting on my flesh like a madman, and he’s quickly turning me into a madwoman as he does. He moans in gratification, and then he swathes me entirely with his mouth, indulging in my most private place as if he could be kissing me passionately on the mouth. My hips start to grind, and my world starts to spin in a haze of hedonism. I’m ablaze, lost in this rapturous ecstasy. My head drops as I cry out, finding Josh’s eyes wide and staring at me as I reach breaking point. And when he locks his mouth over me and sucks, I fly over the edge of restraint and burst, seeing stars as I come all over his mouth. He sucks it all out of me until I’m a limp, breathless wreck atop of him, gasping for air. “Oh, God,” I exhale, damp with sweat.