They fell together against the wall, lips locked on each other, bodies pressed together. He was desperate to get out of his clothes, to take off hers, but unable to pull away from her touch for long enough to do anything. His hands roamed all over her body, stroking the skin of her back and arms and face, everywhere that was already bare. She could touch nothing but his hands and face and hair, but she pushed herself against him, and her heat seared through her clothes and his.
He was shaking with desire, his head spinning. He’d never felt anything like this before. She too was trembling in his arms. He couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. If she was hot, he was on fucking fire.
In a brief flash of sanity, Nick knew that he had to protect her and he couldn’t do that if he was distracted by kissing her, let alone fucking her. But he couldn’t make himself stop. So he moved to put his back against the door, which was locked anyway, so anyone who tried to get in would have to go through him first.
Raluca moved with him, those hot little hands of hers dropping down to reach under his jacket. He involuntarily thrust into that heat. She caught him and squeezed, sending a bolt of lightning up his spine, and he groaned into her mouth.
Nick had never felt so out of control in his life. He might do anything at all. Nothing seemed impossible. He still could hardly believe that the fucking princess was kissing him.
Kissing, fuck — she was giving him a fucking hand job, right through his jeans. One hand stroked his cock, making him groan again, while her other stole lower down, cupping and caressing his balls through the tight denim. Where had she learned to do that?
And how was she managing to look so cool while she was doing such dirty, dirty things below his belt? Nick caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face was flushed, his eyes blazing green, his black hair tousled and damp with sweat. Not cool at all.
His head spun with the conflicting desires to let her go on touching him forever or until he came, and to break that impossible reserve of hers.
Or maybe he could do both.
He reached down and lifted her skirts, piling them over one arm. There were layers and layers of them, gauzy and light. They seemed to go on forever, making him feel like a fumbling idiot. But it was nearly impossible to do anything while she was working away at him with her hot little hands, sliding them slowly down his cock and balls, then stroking his inner thighs.
Nick finally got his hand under her skirts, brushing the heated skin of her bare thigh. She gave a little start, and he felt her inhale against his mouth. That was more like it. He drew back to nip at her soft lips as he stroked upward, taking his time, until he felt the lace and silk of her panties.
I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine, he thought dizzily.
Nick cupped her mound, silk and all. She gasped again, then nipped back. If it hurt, he couldn’t tell. And if this was medicine, it could raise the dead.
He stroked her through the thin silk, feeling her moist heat. He could feel the soft hair over her mound, and the folds of her inner lips. Her hands stilled, clutching at his thighs rather than stroking them. But he didn’t mind. He was breaking her cool, and he loved it.
Nick could feel it happening with every one of his heightened senses: her already-damp panties getting outright wet, her juices slicking his fingers, her scent becoming both more heated and more animal, her womanly musk overwhelming her delicate roses. Her breath caught in her throat, turning from her deep and measured rhythm to quick, shallow gasps. She broke off their kiss to gulp for air. He grinned, pushing aside her panties and pressing his fingers in deeper, feeling her heartbeat accelerate. Raluca was shaking in his arms, her ivory skin flushing at last to a delicate pink. She broke out in a light sweat that made her skin seem to glow.
“I —” Raluca gasped. “I can’t — I’ve never — Oh!”
Nick had a pretty good idea of what she’d never done: had sex in an inappropriate place, with the most inappropriate man imaginable. But she was doing it now, all right, and she sure didn’t sound like she wanted to stop.
He found the nub of her clit and rubbed it, letting her gasps and shudders tell him how hard or soft, fast or slow to go. He wrapped the arm that held the skirts around her waist, in case she was one of those women who seemed to melt when she came.
He had two fingers pushed inside her, stroking her walls as he caressed her clit with his thumb. Raluca thrust against him, rubbing herself against his hand with an abandon he’d never imagined when he’d first seen her, gasping rhythmically. Her eyelids fluttered, sometimes brushing against his skin in a butterfly kiss. Her eyes were molten silver.
“Come on,” Nick said. He meant to whisper, but it came out in a low growl. “Come for me, baby.”
She cried out and came against his hand, her hot walls pulsing, her swollen clit throbbing. Her hands clenched on his thighs, bruising him with her shifter strength, but he didn’t give a fuck. Princess Raluca was coming in his arms, shaking and gasping and spilling her hot juices until they ran over his hand and down her thighs.
And then, just as he’d guessed, she melted into him, all her muscles relaxing at once. Her head fell against his shoulder, and her cool hair slid all over him. A few locks even slithered inside his shirt, where they lay silky over his skin. He held her tight, his beautiful, delicate, daring princess, and never wanted to let her go.
But soon enough, she was stirring. Raluca lifted her head and opened her eyes, and Nick got to see the soft glow of contentment brighten to molten desire.
“You,” Raluca said, her cut crystal voice once again deepening as she spoke. “I have done nothing for you.”
She glanced from her still-upraised skirts to the bulge in his jeans, then put her hot little hand over it. Nick’s whole body jerked like he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket. He couldn’t think straight — he could barely think at all — with her hand on him, but he forced himself to focus. He had to protect her, in every way, not just from assassins.
“Are you on birth control?” Nick had to force the words out. He was panting for breath, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. Her lightest touch drove him half out of his mind.
Raluca stiffened in his arms. For a woman who had just thoroughly enjoyed a hand job in the dressing room of the ritziest clothing shop in Santa Martina, she looked bizarrely offended. “Certainly not! I am a dragon princess — former princess — but still!”
Nick had no idea whether it was dragons or princesses or specifically dragon princesses who didn’t believe in birth control, let alone why, but he wasn’t going to stop to discuss it. He didn’t have any condoms, but he didn’t care. He had to know what those hot fingers would feel like on his bare skin.
“Use your hands,” he gasped.
She settled down again, a teas