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“You have no idea how much I want you,” I whisper between kisses. “You can drive a guy crazy, Princess.”

She gasps against my lips and arches up, her hips rising and falling in frantic little circles. I pant, my body jerking as she comes, my dick twitching, eager to follow.

Eager to sink inside her, spill inside her heat.

The lace under the pad of my thumb is soaking wet, and the scent of her light musk fills my senses. Her gasps are growing quieter. Her cheeks are flushed, the freckles standing out on her nose, sweat making her forehead gleam.

Damn, she’s breathtaking.

“Oh God…” Her voice is hushed, her eyes wide. “It doesn’t feel like that when I—” She catches herself.

“When you do it?” Oh, this is fucking precious. And damn arousing, the image of her in her pink babydoll or whatever she wears in bed, rubbing herself under the covers, biting into her pillow not to make noise.

Holy fucking shit, I’m about to cream my pants.

She starts to get up, and I sit back before we crack heads together. “Rid.” Fluttery panicky gestures. “This isn’t… I don’t know…”

A brief surge of disappointment clogs my throat. I knew this could happen. Panicking about going too far, and with the wrong guy.

“Relax,” I tell her. “We did nothing wrong. Didn’t even get undressed, for fuck’s sake.” I push to my feet, wincing when my cock presses into the zipper. “Consider it a thanks for today.”

I’m already heading to the door, when she calls my name.

“Wait.” She’s breathless, and seeing her like that, in her blue gown, with her hair disheveled and her tiara askew, is almost enough to make me smile.

She looks like she’s just had an orgasm.

And that’s because she has. By my hand. Can’t help but take some guy pride in that.

“It’s getting late.” I grab the door handle. “And you’re not sure about

what you want.”

“I do. I am.” She adjusts her laced-up bust, and my gaze is instantly drawn to the swell of her boobs on top of it.

No wonder the princes keep falling for the princesses in the tales. That cleavage is like a magnet.

“I want you to stay,” she goes on, drawing my attention back to her face. “I want you to come, too.”

Wait, what?

“Bry…” If she’s unsure about a handjob over her panties, for chrissakes, how does she see this going down?

But she grabs my hand and drags me back to the sofa.

Granted, I don’t put up much resistance. Her apartment is a haven, a place out of my reality, and I’m damn horny.

“I want to do for you what you did for me.” There’s a determined glint in her eyes.

“You sure, girl? I’d have to undress.” I glance down at the bulge in my pants. “This would go further than what we did before. Which is fine by me. Just saying.”

A flash of uncertainty passes through her gaze, then that glint is back. “You do it. You touch yourself. I want to see.”

Touch myself? Does she mean…?

“You want me to jack off for your entertainment?” I lick my lips. “Is this proper behavior for a princess?”

She gathers her legs under her dress, chucking off her shoes, looking at me expectantly. “Well?”


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