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“That’s bullshit,” I said, unable to stop myself.
Otis didn’t look surprised. “Yeah, he had total sociopath vibes, and I figured he was lying. But then Christoph called me in to reshoot these scenes, and then my agent told me to expect a contract next week, so…I don’t know.”
I needed to get out of there. “Thanks for letting me know. If I were you, I’d block his number.”
“Oh, trust me. I did.”
I loved Otis for that. We said a quick goodbye, and then I went to take off my makeup and change before texting Camillo.All I got was a little smiley face in return, but two minutes later, there was a knock on my door, and I opened it to find Cillian standing there, looking annoyed.
“Oh. Hello.”
His lip twitched. “I’m your escort for the evening. Don’t get used to it.”
“Noted.”
I moved to grab my bag, but Cillian did it for me. Part of me wondered if he was giving me a taste of what it would be like if Camillo and I really did make a go of this. My heart fluttered at the thought, even if the reality of it scared the literal piss out of me.
It was hard to dwell though. As we hit the streets in a large black car, I realized I was going to see Camillo again. I was going to touch him. Kiss him. Six long weeks of him being a dipshit and trying to protect me from myself, and he would be mine again.
The gates let out a loud groan, and then the car rolled past them—familiar now that I’d been there. We pulled up to the little side entrance to Camillo’s apartments, and Cillian held my door, then swiped a badge to let me in.
All that was left was the elevator to the third floor, which opened with a soft ding…
And there he was.
Camillo. My prince.
“Your Highness.”
He rolled his eyes as he gave himself a firm push forward, and he crashed into my legs, dragging me down to his lap before I could stumble and fall. His lips were against mine as I took a deep breath, and my exhale ended on a heavy groan.
Kissing him was everything. It was life. It was peace. It was a reminder I was wanted. He held me with a desperation that told me these six weeks had been hell on him too.
“You’re a jackass,” I said, pulling back.
He pinched my chin between his fingers. “I know. Kiss me again.”
It was an easy ask. His lips were pliant and warm, tongue demanding as it danced against my own. I felt him wheeling us forward, and I gave him all of my weight, my mouth moving to his neck to kiss him in one of the spots he liked best.
“Fuck, fuck. I need to feel you,” he murmured.
I lifted my head and realized we were in his room, rolling up to the side of the bed.
“Help me. I don’t want to wait another minute.”
He was a heavy, awkward weight in my arms as I lifted him, but the moment I set him on the bed, he was in charge again. He yanked me against him, shoving his legs apart with damn near frantic hands.
I rested my chest against his, rocking my hips against the bed as I devoured his mouth. It was too easy to lose myself in him—in the warmth and power of his touch, in the way he commanded me even as I pinned him to the bed with my body.
And he was firm and controlling in the best way as he got my fly open and my dick in his hand. “I’m going to make you come all over me.” It was an order—a decree. There was no room for argument or negotiation.
Not with the way he gripped me and began to stroke me like he was going to pull the orgasm straight from my body. And dear God, he meant it. He was relentless and fierce.
“That’s right,” he murmured into my ear. “Take it. Feel it. Let yourself go, Aleric. You are mine.”
My vision whited out. It had been too fucking long since I’d felt him, and I was too deep in to focus on what he needed. I managed to sink my teeth into the skin just below his ear, making him gasp and arch against me, but it didn’t matter.
I was too close.