A Royal Mess and Her Knight To Remember

“No.” But she stumbled over the word, and not feeling so certain anymore, she drew in a shaky breath. “Are we still playing? Because if we are, I’m not sure I-You should know, I don’t play well. Ask anyone who’s ever dated me.”

He lifted a hand and slid it beneath her hair to cup the back of her neck. “We’ve already established that they’re all selfish jerks who don’t know how to please a woman.”

“They were diplomats and foreign royals and heads of state and-”

“Selfish jerks,” he repeated softly, his breath warming the skin beneath her ear. “I know how to please a woman. I’d make it good for you. Now…let’s get back to that not being able to breathe around me thing. Are you breathing now, Annie?”

She let out a shaky breath and stepped away from the door, which put her nearly up against him. “I don’t know.”

When she tipped up her face, he took it as an invitation. The first touch of lip to lip was electrifying. He kept it gentle, had to keep it gentle, or he’d lose it. Nibbling at the corner of her mouth, he drew in the scent and feel of her. When she let out a reluctant sound of arousal, he shifted to the other side of her mouth and figured he’d never get tired of her.

“Kyle…” Her hands came up to his chest, probably to push him away, but instead they held on. She breathed his name again, more of a sigh this time. A sweet surrender completely at odds with the outfit she wore. All the blood racing through his body drained to parts south.

“Kyle…is this part of it? Where you prove my theory wrong?”

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. She thought he was still playing. Still messing with her.

And to be fair, it had indeed amused him to tease her. It had amused him to watch her fumbling response.

It didn’t amuse him to suddenly realize he wasn’t playing.

Nor did he want to.

He’d gone and done the unthinkable. He’d let down his guard. And like the enemy that most emotions were, she’d sneaked in past his guard, wormed her way into the one place he thought she never could.

His heart.

“Kyle?”

He ran his hands down her slim back and felt the vinyl banded over the softest, most creamy skin he’d ever felt. “I have to be honest,” he said, his voice hoarse as he danced his hands down to her hips. “I have no idea what this is.”

She let out a sound that might have been a laugh or a sincere agreement, and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “You smell good. Like a…man.”

Now he let out that same sound, only from his lips it sounded desperate. Hungry. “Do we all smell the same, then?”

“No.” Face still pressed against him, she shook her head. Her golden hair slid over his chest. “You smell different. Good different,” she said quickly, lifting her head to smile. “I’m glad, because if this had been like any of my other experiences…”

Did she mean that they were going to… “Annie?”

“I want you to prove me wrong,” she whispered, sinking her fingers into his hair and pressing that tantalizing body to his. “Please, Kyle. Show me what it’s supposed to be like.”

He had a vinyl-clad beauty writhing against him. This was what he’d wanted. His ultimate fantasy. Only, suddenly the implications were more important than the actual lovemaking. He knew that was because his heart had gotten involved, had thrown a whole hell of a lot of caring into the mix.

Her mouth was against his ear. “You still want me?”

“Only more than my next breath,” he assured her, letting his hands slip as they’d been dying to, letting them roam over her perfect, round, and very nearly bare butt. At the feel of her, he groaned. “Trust me, wanting isn’t the problem. But the wedding is tomorrow and then you’re out of here.”

“All we need is now.”

Yeah. That’s all he’d ever lived for. The here and now. But…

“I’m not looking for promises, Kyle. Other than the one you gave me, that is.” Her smile, a little shy, a little wicked, nearly killed him. “That sex isn’t overrated. Can you still do that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Here?” She put her mouth to his neck. “Now?”

“Here.” He could barely stand, but he slid his hands up her sides so that his thumbs were just beneath her tightly bound breasts. “Now.”

Their kiss was hot, long and messy, and made his head swim. He couldn’t get enough, but eventually had to pull back or pass out from lack of oxygen.

She stood there, eyes closed, mouth wet, weaving slightly. He waited, and when she opened her eyes, they were glazed.

“Annie?”

“Oh, good.” Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat. “Annie. I’d forgotten my name.”

He’d nearly forgotten his. He certainly had forgotten everything else. “I’m doing it right, then,” he said with some relief.

She gripped his upper arms and slid her body against his. “Just keep doing it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” When his thumbs stroked over her nipples, her head thunked back against the wall. “Good?”

“Good. More.”

“More on its way.” He leaned in to kiss her again but she slapped a hand to his chest.

“More now.”

He had just enough breath left to let out a low hum of agreement but he still didn’t move faster. “If I rush, I might miss something. Annie, sweetheart, have you noticed you’re overdressed?”

“Yes. Fix that.”

“Absolutely, my little dominatrix.”

11

WHEN HER HANDS tightened in his hair, drawing him closer, warm skin brushed warm skin. But there was still that heart-stopping lingerie between them where he wanted nothing. His fingers met between her breasts, searching for the release hook.

Nothing.

He tried around back.

Still nothing. “Annie…”

“Hurry.”

“Hurrying.” Because he was feeling a bit desperate, he dipped down and cupped her bottom in his hands. Now that was good. He played with the little strap dividing her cheeks, following it down…

“Kyle.”

With one hand still cupping a cheek and the other splayed over the pure gold between her legs, he went still. “Are we stopping?” If so, it was entirely possible he would beg. Maybe cry.

“You said I was overdressed.” Her voice sounded funny. Tight. Needy. “You said you’d fix that.”

“Right.” He pulled back just a little and frowned at the contraption still holding in her breasts. There was no apparent hook, zipper or release. “How did you get into this thing?”

She blinked, then pulled back, looking a little suspicious. “I thought you said you knew what you were doing.”

“Yes, but-”

“How can you follow through on your promise if you can’t get me out of my clothes?”

Good point. He tried harder, running his hands up and over her breasts, around the back, but-