Page 63 of A Royal Mistake

“Don’t sell yourself short.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re an amazing woman, Pippa. Any of those bastards out there would be lucky to have you—I’d be lucky to have you—but none of us deserves you. You’re smart. Passionate. Funny. I’ve never met a woman with the quiet determination you wield like armor.”

She studied him, eyes churning with raw emotion as she processed his words. A slow grin spread over her face. “Don’t forget sexy. You think I’m sexy too.”

He chuckled and rolled his hips, letting her feel the hard ridge of his erection. “You don’t need me to tell you how I feel about this bikini when you can feel it for yourself.”

Her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted.

He rolled his hips again, cock gliding easily along her center. Heat radiated from her body. Or was it coming from him? It was hard to tell the difference when they were skin to skin, only the thin fabric of their swimsuits separating them.

She leaned forward, lowering her mouth to his. He stretched up, meeting her halfway, unable to wait even a second longer to touch her, feel her, taste her. He devoured her lips like a starved man, tongue seeking refuge in the warm recesses of her mouth as her fingers danced over his chest. She tasted like Peach Schnapps and orange juice and he knew in that instant from this moment forward, he would always associate Sex on the Beach with Pippa.

His Pippa.

His hands skated over her hips and up her spine, memorizing each dip and curve as he explored every inch of silky skin not covered by her bathing suit. She shivered when his fingers brushed across her neck and tossed her head back, exposing her neck to him as he tangled his fingers in her ponytail, twisting the long rope of golden hair around his fist.

He continued the journey south, trailing kisses down her jawline and neck, sucking and biting and marking Pippa for his own. When he reached the yellow scrap of fabric covering her full breasts, he gave no quarter. He cupped her in his free hand, gliding his thumb across her hardened nipple. Then he sucked it between his teeth, circling her with his tongue before biting down gently.

Pippa moaned and arched her back, her pussy rubbing torturously against his cock. Tension pooled at the base of his spine and every nerve ending in his body screamed for relief. He forced his hips to remain still, channeling his need into the exploration of her body, into her pleasure.

“That feels so good,” she murmured as he kissed his way across the hollow between her breasts.

“It will feel even better if you let me put my mouth on you.” He toyed with the yellow knot that held her bikini in place. “Let me take this off and show you how good it can be.”

She nodded, and he nearly shouted with joy.

He made quick work of the knot and pushed the fabric aside, freeing her breasts. They were full and round, her rosy nipples hard and begging for his attention. “Christ, you’re sexy.”

He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her, squeezing and kneading the tender flesh, watching her face for visual cues.

It turned out to be unnecessary.

She arched her back, lifting her breasts. “Use your tongue again.”

A woman who knows what she wants.

He grinned and circled her breast with the tip of his tongue. Pippa sighed with satisfaction, a lazy grin spreading over her face.

“Like that, do you?”

“Very much,” she said, wriggling her bottom in silent command.

Henry straightened, capturing her mouth with his own. If she kept that up, he was going to come in his suit. He slipped a hand between them, stroking her pussy over the thin fabric of her bikini. The material dampened as she rocked against him and he groaned into her mouth, his own desire pounding through his veins like the steady rhythm of a drum.

Christ. Why did she have to feel so fucking good?

Change positions, Arschloch. This isn’t about you.

He moved his hands to her ass, squeezing the round globes as he stood. Pippa gave a quiet yelp of surprise as he spun them around and sat her gently in the chair he’d just vacated. He knelt before her, spreading her knees wide.

She shivered as his fingers skated up her inner thigh.

“May I remove these?” He hooked his fingers in the string of her bikini bottom. “I want to taste you, Pippa. Please let me taste you.”

He had a rule against begging for the things he wanted, but for Pippa, there was no line he would not cross.

She chewed her lip, uncertainty flashing in her eyes even as the muscles of her thighs tensed beneath his fingertips.

He froze.