Page 125 of Bitter Prince

He stilled, his eyes roaming my face. I reached for the box, unable to contain a wide grin on my face as I handed it to him. “I know your birthday is in November. This isn’t a birthday gift,” I said seriously.

I waited, heart thudding, watching him open it. His eyebrows shot up when he popped open the lid.

“It’s yin and yang,” I said happily. “There can be no light without shadow. No positive without a negative. So you’ll never forget me,” I teased. “Because I will never forget you.” When he remained silent, insecurity slithered through me. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” He took the bracelets out and handed me one.

I shook my head. “Both are for you.”

“You’re my light, cinnamon girl.” The warmth in his voice caressed every cell of me. “I’ll be your yin as long as you are my yang. I’ll be your yang as long as you’re my yin.”

He secured my bracelet before he did his own. Then he cupped my face, letting his emotions seep from his dark gaze.

My mouth found his, my body molding into his. It was always like this, like I had no control over myself when it came to this man. I was made just for him.

He hauled me off the bed and carried us into the luxurious bathroom. The light flickered from the windows, sparkling off the giant mirror and marble counters.

He deposited me onto the sink’s marble counter, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His hand skimmed from my ankle and up my leg until gripping my hip.

Both of us were in the full view of the mirror. Golden skin against pale. Midnight hair against my blonde. My petite body against his towering, sculpted frame. We might have been opposites, but we fit beautifully.

I gave all my attention to Amon, trailing my hands over his strong shoulders, down his biceps, then back up to his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured, leaning forward and pressing kisses over his chest.

His hand drifted over my hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake, then disappeared between my throbbing thighs. “No, cinnamon girl. You are beautiful.”

He thrust two fingers inside my wet core as if to emphasize the words. A moan ripped from my lips. My skin flushed, my forehead falling forward onto his sculpted chest.

“Look in the mirror,” he growled, taking my chin with two fingers and turning my head. “I want you to see how I own you.” He nipped my earlobe as if he were mad about it. “And how you own me.”

My cheek pressed against his strong heartbeat, I watched as he slid his fingers out, only to thrust them back in. That familiar burst of pleasure flooded me, building slowly but surely. He continued pounding into me while the sounds of my arousal mixed with my moans.

“Please, Amon,” I whimpered, my hands clawing at his shoulders.

His pace was borderline mad. “I don’t want to let you go,” he rasped as he pounded his fingers into me.

My eyes closed halfway, but I still watched the outline of his muscles flex with each thrust of his fingers. He was lean and ripped. Breathtakingly beautiful—inside and out.

“I w-will be back,” I breathed. “I promise. A few hours, max.”

He met my gaze in the reflection and must have seen what he wanted there because he teased my clit next with his expert fingers, and I fell apart. I came all over his hand with a guttural moan.

“Always come back to me, cinnamon girl.” His voice was gruff against my ear as he bit the flesh of my neck, marking me.

My whole body trembled, the intensity of it chattering my teeth. I might’ve been a virgin before him, but I knew nobody could compare to this man. He played me like an instrument and my body sang only for him.

His hand disappeared from between my legs, but before I could protest, he brought his fingers to my parted lips. I watched him through hooded eyelids as he smeared my arousal over my mouth. My tongue darted out, sweeping over my bottom lip.

His grip on my hips tightened while his eyes turned darker than midnight. When he pulled me closer, a shudder rippled through me at the feel of his cock against my hot entrance.

He thrust inside and I gasped. Each time he was inside me, I was amazed at how good he felt. Then we both froze.

“Fuck,” we said at the same time. “Condom.”

“You’ve got to get on the pill,” he grunted, pulling out only to thrust back in.

My head fell back with a moan at the sensation. “I—I have them. I just keep forgetting—” Another thrust. “To take it.” He slid out of me almost completely only to pound back in. “Ahhh… God, that feels good.” My body shuddered, at war with my brain. It was risky. So stupid. “W-we should…”