Page 68 of Rebellious Hearts

This was just supposed to be a short-lived fairy tale, anyway.

But didn’t fairy tales usually end with the prince and princess riding off into the sunset?

Ben was a Blackwood prince, alright, but I was no princess, and it was better that I remembered that. I turned the rings around on my finger. I would have to take these off again in the next few days, and that would be it.

It’s better this way.

The night finally wrapped up, and the car was summoned. We both shook hands with Richie, but he pulled me into a hug, and I smiled.

“Thank you for an amazing evening, Richie,” I said. “I really look forward to working together.” I felt bad just saying that—what if I wasn’t going to be here? But that wasn’t my problem.

Ben opened the door for me, and I slid into the leather seats first. He followed, pulled the door shut, and we drove back to Harborview.

The partition between us and the driver was up so that we had privacy.

“Tonight was perfect,” Ben said, pleased. “You played your role beautifully.”

His words felt like a punch to the gut.

“My role,” I said softly.

Ben noticed the shift in atmosphere and turned to me. “I really appreciate you playing along when I made this harder for you. I should never have lied, and you did everything I could possibly need. Thank you for that.”

I bit my lip and nodded. The fairy tale was already slipping away.

Ben cupped my cheek. “It wasn’t just an act. I hope you know that.”

Butterflies erupted in my stomach. Maybe the fairy tale wasn’t over just yet.

“I know it was to get the project, and we succeeded, but when I say you’re incredible, I mean it in every way.” He brushed his thumb over my cheeks, his brown eyes drowning deep in the dark car.

Ben shifted closer, and I knew it was better to stop him. I couldn’t give in to all this again. I was getting too close, too involved, and I was going to leave…

But that wasn’t happening, yet, and Ben’s scent filled the car. The wine muddled my thoughts, and when he brushed his lips against mine, I sighed and stopped thinking altogether.

I let him kiss me, and I moaned softly when he slid his tongue into my mouth.

He put his hand on my leg and slowly slid it up under my dress. I gasped, and when his fingers brushed against my inner thigh, I moaned. Ben’s other arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me close, and his fingers pressed against my sex. I shivered and widened my legs.

His finger pressed against my clit, the lace material of my panties providing a delicious friction. My nipples hardened and my breathing quickened as he rubbed me slowly.

Ben groaned and kissed me harder, and my heart beat faster. I slid my hand over his pants, rubbing his hardness.

When Ben pulled his hand away, I almost complained, but then he tugged my panties down and his fingers were on me again.

This time, he rubbed my naked sex, his fingers sliding through the wetness.

“Sofia,” he whispered, his breath hot against my neck.

He slipped a finger inside me, and my breath hitched.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

My heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t called it fucking. He’d called it making love.

Ben slipped a second finger inside me and kissed my neck, and I knew I wasn’t going to deny him anything.

His fingers stroked slowly in and out of me, his other hand tantalizingly hovering over my breast as his tongue explored my mouth.