Page 30 of The Tower (Billionaire Brothers Grimm #1)

I squeal as he flips us over, leaving me on my back with his thumb and forefinger firmly gripping my nipple. And since I’d let go of his chest hair during the flip, that leverage is gone.

“Don’t play games with me, Princess. I’ll always win.”

I bite my lower lip to keep from laughing, then meet his eyes. “Go ahead. Twist it. Maybe I’ll like it.”

He stays perfectly still for a moment, then he releases my nipple, only to cup my full breast with his palm.

“You might at that,” he says. And though there’s nothing specific in his voice to disturb me, I have to fight a little shiver.

Because I can’t help but think that he seems to already know what I like.

As if he knows what Prince Killiam has done.

But that, of course, isn’t possible.

“You constantly surprise me,” he says, more to himself than to me.

“How so?”

He cups my face, then gently trails his fingertips over my lips. “For a woman who’s been so sheltered, you?—”

“What?” I press when he cuts himself off.

“Let’s just say you have a natural skill.”

“Oh.” I feel my cheeks flush, and I can’t quite meet his eyes. “Is that bad?”

“Do you mean would I rather touch some timid little princess who barely moves, doesn’t seem to like it, and gives the distinct impression that she’d rather be sweeping up cinders in front of the chimney?

I wouldn’t.” He brushes the pad of his thumb over my lips.

“So tell me,” Princess, are you truly a natural, or have you managed to escape your father’s keen detection and seek out …

shall we say … some on-the-job experience? ”

“Sneak? What? No!” The conversation has shifted toward mortifying. “I, um, I watch a lot of movies.”

“Movies,” he repeats, in a tone that suggests he doesn’t believe me.

“Yes.” I underscore the lie by lifting my chin. Though it’s not entirely a lie. I do watch a lot of movies. But sex … well, that I learned in Elysium. But I’m not telling Grimm about that.

Not yet.

Probably never.

But I won’t swear to that. After all, last week I would have laughed in anyone’s face if they suggested I’d have a reasonable conversation with Liam Grimm, much less wild, delicious sex.

Still, Elysium is my heart and soul. And there’s going to have to be a lot more trust between us before I share that world with him.

“Did I lose you?”

I shake my head and smile. “Sorry. You muddled my head a bit, I guess.”

“One of my best traits as a lover.”

I laugh, still surprised by how easy it is to be around this man who for so long has been my enemy.

Who maybe still is.

“Just movies?” he asks, erasing my frown. “No boyfriends you snuck into Reed Tower?”

I just stare. He’s as aware of the extent of the security at my home as I am. Probably more so, as I’m sure he’s tried to hack it.

“ Lots of movies,” I say. “With a variety of ratings.”

His brows rise. “Your father must be more lenient than I thought.”

“Correction— I hack into a lot of movies and watch them in secret. All ratings. R is the best for that kind of education,” I add with a bold smile, surprised at how comfortable I am talking about this with Liam Grimm.

“Is it? Not X?”

“No way. X is all about assembly. No nuance.”

“Assembly?” he repeats, his brows rising.

“It’s just Insert Part C into Slot V . Light on the emotion. And the plot, for that matter.”

He looks like he’s about to crack up. I’m having a bit of trouble not laughing myself.

“So you’ve really never done this before?” He slides his hand down to slip between my thighs. “Sex,” I mean.

I sigh as his fingertip strokes me.

“Only in my dreams.”

“Good dreams, I hope?”

I think of Killiam. His eyes so much like Grimm’s.

He cups my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

I blink, both confused and surprised that Liam Grimm would apologize for anything.

“I took your virginity. You should have been with someone you care about.”

I start to say I was, but bite back the words, shocked they even came close to my lips. Clearly, I’m suffering from post-coital gooeyness.

“No, it was good,” I say, feeling strangely shy. “I mean, it was appropriate.”

His brows rise. “Appropriate? The trading of sex for protection? Women’s counseling services all over the country would beg to differ.”

I smirk. “I mean, you rescued me from the evil king’s castle. You’re keeping me safe. And if everything goes as planned, you’re going to slay the dragon. That’s a metaphor for the drugs,” I add.

Humor dances across his face, softening the hard lines and angles. Making him look almost vulnerable when he nods and says, “I got that.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong—you’re the Grimm, after all—but it seems to me that all that adds up to you being Prince Charming. And doesn’t the prince get the girl?”

“I suppose he does,” Grimm says.

“So there you go. Appropriate .”

He chuckles and nods. But what neither of us point out is that the original tales often ended in pain or death or horror.

Which, I guess, leaves us right back where we started, and me with no clue as to whether Grimm is a good guy, a bad guy, or something in between.