The explosions echoed even through the thick walls. But Elsie was safe, pressed against his solid, hot body—in an embrace that was so secure she shivered.
Cinderella was all wrong. The magic didn’t end at midnight, it was only then that it began. Secret, wonderful things could only happen under cover of darkness when everyone else was asleep. When no one would see. Now was her time.
‘The next time that clock strikes twelve your time will be up. You’ll be crowned.’ She smiled at him a little sadly. ‘My poor Cinder-fella, stuck in a life of duty.’
‘Cinder-fella?’ He rolled his eyes.
She’d giggle if she didn’t actually feel sorry for him.
‘The coronation is a formality, Elsie. It’s not as bad as you think. Fundamentally, nothing will change.’
No? But she saw resignation smothering restlessness in his eyes. Cemented, regimented, he was bracing for a constrained future.
‘A very public formality,’ she said.
His expression grew stormy. He didn’t want her pity. Just as she didn’t want his. They didn’t have the time to waste on it.
‘Be careful, I’ll take advantage of your compassion.’ He backed her into a corner. ‘And I’ll ask for things you shouldn’t give me.’
‘Such as?’ she breathed.
‘Everything.’ He cupped her jaw—holding her in place. With her lips upturned to his, this was a prelude to a kiss. ‘Say no to me.’
His breath skimmed over her mouth, making her shiver, but she stayed silent.
‘Say no to me,’ he repeated—urgent and imperious. But his eyes asked another question altogether.
She still didn’t answer. He was the merest breath from her now.
‘Say no, damn it.’ His tone splintered.
So did her temper. Why should she make it easy for him? Why should she have to bear the burden of doing the right thing? She’d done that before and it had hurt her badly. What was the point in trying to be good? She’d still lost—everything. And this once she wanted something for herself.
She lifted her chin as anger and desire overwhelmed her. ‘No.’
His mouth parted and he froze, but before he could snap away from her she hooked her arm around his neck and held him close. His eyes were blown—as black as midnight, as endless, as aching.
‘Not what you wanted to hear after all?’ she jeered, but her voice shook. So did her body. She arched towards him like a tulip leaning towards the sun. Craving. Yielding. His mere nearness unleashed the part of her that wanted to take all and damn the consequences. The greedy, selfish, reckless part and she didn’t care any more. Her energy was bursting at her seams. She wanted him to release it. She didn’t want him to be anything but honest and raw. Now.
‘What do you really want?’ she asked, angry and aching. ‘Tell me the truth.’ It was an order of her own.
His hands dropped to her waist. He closed the gap completely and the weight of him pressed the breath from her body.
‘You. Bed. Mine,’ he snarled. ‘Mine.’
‘Yours.’ She murmured her assent and melted. There was nowhere she could go. Nowhere else she’d rather be.
He pressed her harder against the wall and held her gaze before nipping her lower lip—so lightly, so gently, so quick, she gasped. It was intimate. Dominant. Playful. And a promise. In a blink he was back with the gentlest of kisses. Elsie shuddered—aching, accepting, surrendering it all.
This man had everything. He stood at the apex of the world, ruler of an entire country, an island of riches and beauty. He was a man who apparently had everything. Yet he had so very little for himself. And he wanted her.
Sensations exploded—taste and scent and touch. Felipe was everywhere and everything—seeking her very soul with a sublime kiss. His tongue stroked and his lips pressed and it was so heady she was lost. Any last space between them was gone as they sealed together. His hardness pressed against her belly and she pressed back. She gave but he wanted more and the more she gave, the more he wanted. But it was the same for her. Wedged between him and the wall was the best. Breathless, crushed. Every cell sang. It was a line call between laughter and tears as she unashamedly rubbed against him with a mewl of pure agony, pure delight.
At that he tore free and stared into her eyes. The torture in his made her freeze.
‘Elsie, I don’t...’ He huffed a breath. ‘I don’t want...’
He’d stopped. He wanted to stop. He was conflicted about this, which meant there was a problem. She was the problem.