Page 84 of A Royal Mistake

If he was trying to memorize every peak and valley, she wanted to remember the feel of his hands on her, the way his callused fingers scraped over her tender flesh.

She was going to remember every glorious moment of this night.

Pippa gripped his arse, fingers digging into the taut muscles. Henry groaned, the sound reverberating across her lips and spurring her on. Then her hands were moving of their own accord, fumbling with the button on his trousers.

“We should talk,” he said, voice a low rasp.

She blinked.

Talk?

They were about to have sex and he wanted a time out to talk? Had she fallen into an alternate universe?

“No more talking.” She was done with words. She wanted action. Heat. Orgasms. “I trust you and I want this—us. Now. Nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“No, it really—”

She stretched up on her toes and captured his mouth with her own, devouring him with hungry kisses and putting an end to his protests. He wanted this as badly as she did. She knew it in her heart and she could see it in the way his erection strained against the zipper of his trousers, begging for release.

“Please, Henry.” Her voice was breathy and desperate as she tugged on his zipper. “Don’t make me beg.”

His resolved faltered, his eyes meeting hers as he cupped her chin in his hand. “Never.”

He kissed her again, more tenderly this time, and then he was lifting her off her feet, one arm behind her back, the other tucked behind her knees as he carried her down the hall to his bedroom.

Butterflies swarmed in Pippa’s belly. This was really happening.

Finally.

Henry lowered her to her feet and flipped on a bedside lamp, casting a warm glow over the room. Unlike the living room, there were no shades of grey here. The bedroom was clean and modern, with white walls and a fluffy white down comforter on the perfectly made bed.

Pippa smiled as he turned back to her, a ravenous glint in his eye.

She reached for his zipper, but he captured her wrist and spun her around so that her back was to him. The tips of his fingers brushed over her shoulder blades and then he was dragging her zipper down, loosening the godforsaken torture device. She sucked in her first full breath of the night as the gown dropped to the floor, pooling at her feet and leaving her before him in just her panties.

Henry pressed a kiss to her left shoulder, his whiskers scraping against her skin as he worked his way to her neck. The kisses were slow and measured, just like the fingers that traced a path up over her hip and cupped her breast. Goosebumps raced across her flesh. From chill or anticipation, she couldn’t say.

“Lie down on the bed.”

She did as instructed and Henry dropped to his knees before her, eyes locked on hers. He took her left foot in his hand, massaging his way up her calf. When he reached her knee, he switched to the right leg, his touch gentle but firm as he released the tension from her muscles. His eyes never left hers as he worked, his fingers moving over her in sweet seduction, every touch fanning the flames of desire that licked at her skin.

When would they get to the fun stuff? Not that Henry’s touches weren’t fun, but… she needed more. New touches, new experiences.

Pippa squirmed, the need between her legs making it impossible to remain still.

Henry laid a hand on her belly, pinning her hips to the mattress. “Feeling impatient?”

Obviously.

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words evaporated on her tongue as Henry’s hand moved south. His fingers slid over her pussy, stroking her right down the middle and delivering a bolt of much needed pleasure.

“So wet.”

She rolled her hips, begging for another touch. For pressure to ease the dull ache between her legs. The ache only Henry could soothe.

He leaned forward on the bed, his mouth hovering inches from where he’d just touched her.

Teasing her. Torturing her. Testing her.