The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,103

look on my face, he shrugged. “I thought we were switching roles this morning, seeing as you bowed when women are to curtsy.”

“First, I was more shocked that you did it so well. And secondly, do not call me Your Highness.”

“First, why are you shocked? I’ve seen people do it all my life. Secondly, that is who you are now,” he shot back, stretching out his hand.

I took it without argument as he led me to his morning breakfast.

“Where did you get all of these pillows from?” I asked when I sat down on one carefully.

“Wolfgang went to someplace called Target.” His eyebrows furrowed as he made sure that was correct. “He said it was like a home wonderland.”

I chuckled and looked over the table. He really put so much effort into this morning—technically, our first morning as husband and wife.

“Thank you for this,” I said gently, reaching for the chocolate muffin. “It’s very sweet.”

“I will take sweet, I guess,” he replied through a piece of toast. “I was going for, ‘Oh, Gale, you are so romantic. I am so glad we eloped together in the dead of night.’”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing at how he was sulking. “If you had made it all from scratch, maybe I would have said that.”

“I was trying not to burn down your home.”

“Thank you, which is why I said you were sweet.”

He rolled his eyes as he took a bite. He was kind of like a big kid sometimes. Putting my muffin down, I shifted so that I faced him. “Ohhhh, Gale, you are soooo romantic. I am soooo glad we eloped together in the dead of night.”

His gaze shifted to me with his brows raised. He nodded and waved his hand. “Now, one more time without the obvious sarcasm.”

“You are—”

He kissed me before I could get the words out, and everything I was going to say disappeared. I could taste the cinnamon in his mouth. I could feel the rest of me getting warmer all over. Again his arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer to him. My arms wrapped around his neck, and before I knew it, I was in his lap, wanting more of him.

“Gale.” I gasped when he cupped my breast through my blouse.

He paused, taking a deep breath and licking his lips, his eyes meeting mine. “I apologize. I got carried away there for a moment.”

I was shaking again. “I wasn’t stopping you.”

He and I stared at each, and I realized I was still straddling to him. However, when I went to move, he held me in place. “Stay here.”

“What?”

“Let’s eat, but you stay here. I want to feel you...against me.” And just like that, he wasn’t a kid anymore. He was all man.

And the normal fight I had just melted at the sound of his deep, lust-ridden voice. I said nothing, only turned and sat in his lap with my back against his chest. I tried to focus on the food. I picked up my muffin again and nibbled on it, but I was very aware of all of him. Where his hands were, what his body felt like, how his chest rose and fell with each breath...and other things. It took him a moment, but he reached out and grabbed the champagne, pouring it and resting back a bit.

We sat there quietly, eating, trying to calm ourselves down. However, it did not seem to be working for me at all. It had been such a long time since I had been touched by any man, just feeling his legs beside mine was driving me crazy.

“I should move,” I whispered.

“Do you want to move?” His voice sounded stronger, heavier.

“Aren’t we trying to get back in control of ourselves?” I muttered, brushing my curls from my face. “This isn’t really helping.”

“That is the thing. I am wondering back here, why am I trying so hard to control myself?” he questioned, reaching over and brushing the curls off my shoulder, exposing my skin. “I was wondering the same thing last night. Why did I leave your room? Why am I denying myself?” When he kissed my shoulder, my eyes shut at the warmth of his lips on my skin. “Why am I denying you?”

Get it together, Odette!

“Maybe it’s because I’m different,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder at him.

His blue-green eyes were coated over with desire.

“You and I could go anywhere in the world, but we always find ourselves in one room or another, talking for