A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,88

hers. “Show me the way you minister to yourself, and I will emulate it.”

“Oh my god,” he said, but he did as she asked, curling his bigger palm over hers and guiding her hand. She got the hang of his preferred rhythm and pressure fairly quickly, and she expected him to turn the matter over to her, but he didn’t. He was hard beneath her hand, like iron, and his hand above was scratchy, like sandpaper. The warring sensations, though limited to her hand, felt like they were engulfing her whole body. Moisture pooled between her legs, and her breath shortened to match his. A few more strokes and he was bucking into their joined hands. It was oddly, intensely erotic.

The only disappointing part was that it didn’t take very long. She could have kept it up forever, watching his face twist in a gorgeous sort of pleasure that looked like it bordered on pain, knowing she had put that expression there, even as her own desire coiled up anew. It made her feel powerful.

And it had nothing to do with her identity as a member of the Eldovian royal family.

Which, in turn, made her laugh with delight.

“I’m glad you find my total and complete paralysis funny,” Leo deadpanned. He did look rather done in, lying there as he was with one forearm resting on his forehead and his pants still down.

“You look thoroughly vanquished,” she observed, flopping forward onto his chest and breathing in his spicy orange scent.

“I am.” He groaned as his arms came around her. “I am thoroughly vanquished.”

Chapter Sixteen

“I gotta find Gabby,” Leo said as he put his dick back in his pants, packed up the uneaten food, and helped put the princess to rights.

Put his dick in his pants and helped put the princess to rights. Eff him, but that was something he had never imagined himself thinking much less doing.

He smiled.

Because he had a feeling it might be something he would have the opportunity to do again. As he buttoned Marie’s coat up, his mind skittered back to the threat/promise of a blow job in “more comfortable environs.” It kept replaying that sentence—and another one. Show me the way you minister to yourself, and I will emulate it.

When he’d first met Marie in New York, her oddly formal manner and way of speaking had annoyed him. Then, as he’d come to understand that in many cases it was a front for nerves or insecurity, he’d minded it less.

But now? Now, it drove him wild.

It made him stiffen again when he thought about it.

Marie looked at her watch. “I suspect the horseback riding will be done by now, but I’m sure Gabby is well looked after.”

“I’m sure she is. She’s loving it here. But I hadn’t planned on being gone so long today. I haven’t seen her yet.”

“Let’s go find her, shall we?”

“Your braid is a mess.” He tried to smooth the destroyed hairdo, but it was no use.

She pulled off the elastic securing the bottom of the braid and combed her fingers through her hair. “It will just take me a moment to redo it.”

“Why don’t you leave it down?”

“You don’t like the braids?”

“I do,” he assured her, and it was true. The sometimes elaborate hairdos she wore in Eldovia were kind of like her white nightgown—maddening in their seeming primness. But he also liked her hair down. The way it had been in New York when he’d first been getting to know her.

Well, actually, what he liked best was her hair down after it had been in braids. It was the dishevelment he liked. It was being the disheveler. He wasn’t going to say that, though. So he pulled her hood up and said, “I like your hair all ways. You have good hair.”

And good eyelashes.

And good lips.

Okay, enough. He nodded toward the path. “Shall we?”

“I’m sorry again about the NDA,” she said quietly once they started walking.

“Forget about it.” He had.

“The first boy I slept with took a picture of me sleeping in his bed and tried to sell it to the student newspaper—this was at university.”

“What?” The fucker. “Did he succeed?”

“No. I called Mr. Benz, and he took care of it. I’m not even sure how.”

Maybe there was something to say for meddling Mr. Benz after all.

“I hadn’t had him sign anything—Mr. Benz had told me, when I left, to make sure anyone who might ‘be in a position to compromise me or my reputation’ signed an NDA. But I was