Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,56
strong and brave and beautiful. She comes on my hand, digging her fingernails into my arms as her legs tremble on either side of me. My cock throbs, leaking precum against her stomach as she clings onto me.
And fuck, I want this. Really want this. I want everything Rowan’s willing to give me. I don’t want this to have an expiration date or a long list of conditions.
I want Rowan to be mine. Forever.
“Wolfe…” she whispers, eyes hazy. Her hand finds my cock again, rubbing me as the last thrills of her orgasm make her body buck and grind against me. I pull my hand out of her pants and wrap it around hers, still gripping my shaft. I love the way her eyes widen and her breath shortens as I pump my cock with her fist.
Her other fingers crawl up my chest as her legs wrap around my hips, holding me close. The heat of her core presses up against me as I jerk myself off with her hand.
“I want to see you come, Wolfe,” she whispers, glancing at me through thick lashes. She bites her lip, and that’s what does me in. I grunt, spurting hot, white seed onto her stomach as she grips my cock and clings onto my body, grinding herself against me as I finish.
My lips find hers as my chest heaves, but I’m not quite ready to back away. There’s a glow around us. Inside me, a desire burns to tell her everything I feel.
I want her beside me. She’s given me life. Hope. Maybe even love. She’s shown me that life isn’t over because of a loss—no, maybe it can be even sweeter, because now I know how true pain feels. Now that I’ve seen the darkness, I can appreciate the light.
But as we fall apart and I stare at her flushed face, words stick to my throat. She giggles, reaching for a tissue to wipe my seed off her stomach, shooting a cheeky grin my way. “That wasn’t exactly the royal welcome I was expecting.”
“What other welcome would I give you?” I grin, but my words feel empty. What I want to say is, stay. Be here with me, but not as an architect. Walk out onto a balcony and hold my hand in front of an army of photographers. Let me kiss you on the steps of the palace as the world watches.
Rowan wipes the last of my orgasm off her stomach, and my heart clenches. A week ago, I was worried about not having access to the morning after pill. Now? I’d love nothing more than to see her belly swollen with my child.
I shake my head to scatter the thought, clearing my throat as I reach for my shirt. Rowan does the same, getting dressed in silence. She glances at me a few times, as if trying to gauge what I’m thinking.
“I should probably let you get to work,” I say, buttoning the last ivory button on my chest.
Rowan straightens up, dipping her chin down. “Right. Yes. Of course.”
When she meets my gaze, there are walls up between us. Walls which, by all rights, should be there. They’ll always be there—because, after all, she’s from Farcliff, and she’s in Nord for work. I’m a prince, and I knew the moment Abby died that I was destined to be alone.
Isn’t that the truth?
All those other thoughts—about life and happiness and beauty—they were just lust talking.
“Let me know if you need anything,” I say and walk to the door. When my fingers are on the handle, though, I stop.
Why does it have to be this way? Why do I have to turn my back on her? Why not walk into the light and appreciate Rowan’s presence for what it is: a gift. Happiness, bottled up and presented to me in the form of a beautiful, copper-haired goddess.
In three strides, I’m back beside Rowan again. I wrap my arms around her and crush my lips to hers, kissing her with all the strength of my emotion.
I want this. Her. Us.
When I pull away, we’re both flushed and panting.
I grin. “I couldn’t leave without doing that one last time.”
“Not the last, I hope,” Rowan says. Her smile widens, and there’s no distance between us at all. No walls.
“Definitely not,” I say, pressing my lips to hers, as if I want to convince myself that it’s true. I’ll get to kiss her again, and again, and again.