Page 20 of How to Date a Prince (Being Royal #1)

Thomas tastes of heaven, of freedom, of all the things I can’t have—but desperately want. And I kiss him more urgently.

And then, he’s the one groaning in my arms, encouraging me with his mouth, his fingers tracing the curve of my arse, the small of my back. And I’m still kissing him, and kissing him like my life depends on it.

“You’re shaking,” he says at last when we finally pause.

“So’re you.”

He laughs, breathless. “Yeah, in the best way. Fuck?—”

When I kiss him again, he pulls me tight against his body, so tight I can feel his cock pressing against me. I’m desperate for him, for the contact I crave?—

“Do you want me to stop?” he breathes against my ear, his fingers tracing round the waistband of my jeans and promising to move lower.

“Don’t you dare stop,” I gasp.

“Mmm.” He kisses me intensely, and I pull him tight, and we bang into the stone wall then, stirring up dust. My nose tickles. Patrick Swayze was far less clumsy in Ghost , but we’re too greedy to worry about being careful.

His fingers loosen my jeans, and I’m begging him to continue, desperate and hot and breathless as I lean into the wall.

I think Foster the People’s playing, and it’s the last coherent thing I can think of before he’s freed me from my boxers.

My cock’s deep in his mouth, and I shudder hard as my balls tighten and heat burns from the core of me.

“Oh God—” I beg. “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t stop now?—”

And nobody stops. Not him, not me. Thomas brushes his mouth against my skin in a teasing touch, tasting my cock, and my hands are buried in his hair as he kneels before me on the flagstone floor. His mouth and hand work me in an incredible rhythm, till that heat’s unbearable between us, and then?—

“I’ll come if you—” I gasp raggedly. I want him so badly, and I’d give anything in that moment to have him continue, like a kingdom or a million pots or even sacrificing the competition?—

And he continues all the more intently with his tongue and fingers.

I sob as I erupt, clutching him like my life depends on it. Like we’re the beat and the rhythm that’s found each other, seeking. I’m too distracted to keep time. My hips thrust, and then I’m shaking even harder after I stop coming, staring down at him. Weak-kneed, I sag into the wall.

Finally, Thomas tilts his head up at me in the low light. He smiles broadly before he at last stands to kiss me lingeringly.

I kiss him in a daze, and then I laugh and press the heels of my hands against my eyes for a moment. “Sorry. I—sorry. Give me a moment. Fuck.”

“Don’t apologize. I hope you’re not sorry about what we did.”

“I’m not sorry,” I whisper, searching his eyes, dark in this light. I’m desperate to continue where we left off, but reason’s creeping in again, which is entirely unwelcome. “Not for a second.”

Thomas’ smile is glorious. “I wanted to kiss you the other night, but I figure you’d run if I tried.”

“Fifty-fifty odds, to be honest. I’m a great sprinter.” I press my lips together in a half smile. My brain, meanwhile, is going overtime about if it was a good idea and what it all means.

“Let yourself enjoy the moment, Auggie. Please. We can go back to normal tomorrow. You can pretend then this didn’t happen, if you want.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I—it’s complicated… you know, having a maybe-girlfriend and, um, life.”

“Yeah… future king. I know. And honestly? Really don’t care. It’s actually a strike against you.” He gives me a quick smile. Thomas sits down on the floor against the stone wall and pats the ground beside him. A cloud of dust rises. “Come here.”

I hesitate, then press into his side and promptly bury my face against his neck. Thomas slides his arm around me.

“I think,” he says softly, “whatever this prince life is, it seems guaranteed to fuck a person up. No offense. I don’t think it’s done you a lot of favors.”

“Don’t go yet?”

He wraps his arms tight around me. “Anything you want.”

“You hate everything I represent, don’t forget.

” I remind him, in case he’s forgotten in the last few seconds, and it’s my duty to keep that front of mind for both of us.

Like pushing people away’s ingrained right down to my DNA.

If only we had a union to say forge an alliance between nations in medieval times.

“Let’s not worry about that right now. I’m more worried about you than any monarchy or democratic state at the minute. Or even a republic or two.”

“That’s saying quite a lot, actually.”

I lean into Thomas for a long time, my heart thundering all the way into my ears as the music plays and the night stretches on. And it’s a secret bliss, being with Thomas in the quiet of the night, feeling his chest rise and fall against me.

And then my mouth seeks his again, kissing him more leisurely now and tasting him sweeter than any patisserie’s offerings or posh éclair.

My fingers run down his sculpted chest. Thomas groans softly, leaning into my teasing touch.

He rests his head back against the fieldstone wall, and my kisses trail along his jaw, his throat, the hollow of his collarbone.

Then, with unsteady fingers, I’m unbuttoning his dark shirt, which is already covered with fine dust from the wall, revealing his chest. When I trace his nipple after I’ve fully unfastened his shirt, Thomas gasps and shudders. “Auggie…” he whispers urgently.

Then, I place a hand over the hardness in his jeans, teasing him till he squirms, breathing hard. I shift to release him, unbuckling his jeans, his fly, pushing soft cotton boxers away from the firmness of his erection revealed in the low light.

Holding his gaze, I trace the tip of his cock till he gasps with desperate need.

“Please,” Thomas begs.

I bend over to draw him deep into my mouth, savoring the fullness of him. And it’s everything, tasting Thomas burning in my mouth, hearing him cry out with urgency.

I move my mouth, my hand, my tongue. Drawing his hips close and tight to take all of him, to prove my desire, how greedy I am for him. For this.

For us.

“Auggie…” He’s dazed, trembling, clutching my shoulders.

I’m barely aware of his fingers digging into me.

“Oh God?—”

And then he’s totally mine, nonsensical.

Desperately wild under my tongue.

There are no words to share how much I want him. How much I need this connection. Or words to describe the space he carves within me, even knowing him so briefly.

Then, it’s just him and me and the beat of our hearts in unison, where he begs and I give and we continue until he releases with a desperate sound drowned deep in his throat, his fingers tangled in my hair.

I hold him there until he stops fitfully thrusting, his hips at last still under my hands.

I relax, lifting my head with his fingers light on my jaw, drawing me up till we kiss endlessly.

His fingers find my cock, jerking me off urgently, and it doesn’t take long for me to come a second time as I gasp hard, shudder, and bury my face in his neck as he gives me the freedom I so desperately crave.

When I stop trembling in his arms, he kisses me while I try dazedly to regain my bearings, blood rushing in my ears.

I take his hand, draw each finger deep in my mouth against my tongue, one after another in turn.

Which is when we hear an unmistakable scuffling sound outside, someone saying “shit,” immediately followed by the crunching sound of footsteps rushing away down the gravel path.

We stare at each other, wide-eyed, then at the open doorway to the blackness of night beyond.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my—” Thomas quickly clamps a hand over my mouth, but it’s far too late to keep quiet. Till I stop and snap my jaw shut with a click.

I shake.

We frantically dress, and then I sprint away before looking at Thomas again, with him calling out once for me in the darkness of the woods.

And I run, heart pounding.