A Princess Next Door (Rothman Royals Book 1) (4 page)

I had to do something to distract myself from the desire
that was starting to course through me, so I tried for a teasing tone. “Just so
you know, I’m not into arrogant men.”

“Maybe not, but you
are
into me.”

I gave a little huff and formed my mouth into a pout for
good measure, still trying to sustain the teasing mood.

When I slanted a quick look up at him, I thrilled at the
hungry look in his eyes as he focused on my protruding lower lip.

“Don’t make that expression unless you want me to do
something to that lip.” His words were a warning, but his thick voice sounded
more like a promise.

My whole body washed with heat, and I couldn’t catch my
breath. Without thinking, I licked my dry lips.

 “Is that an invitation?” Jack had leaned forward slightly,
his eyes studying my face now with real inquiry mingled with the lust.

I knew what I wanted now. I wanted him to make a move on me
in a way I never had before.

I wanted to feel those big hands on my body. I wanted to
press up against the hard strength of his muscular form. I wanted to feel the
rough texture of his face, his hair, his palms.

I knew he wanted it too. I could see it in the heat in his
eyes, the tension in his body.

But I also knew something else. He wasn’t going to make a
move. He wasn’t going to do anything unless I asked him. He’d already made
plenty of overtures, which I had turned down, so now it was up to me to change
the dynamic between us.

I’d spent most of my life doing what other people wanted of
me, but Jack wanted me to take what I wanted.

Even if what I wanted was him.

Unable to resist the impulse, I pushed him back gently until
he was leaning against the sofa. Using his shoulders to brace myself, I crawled
over him until I was straddling his lap.

“Amalie?” Something hotter, even more compelling ignited in
his eyes, and his hands settled on my hips.

I figured I looked rather shameless. I was so turned on now
that my nipples poked out through the fabric of my top, and a band of skin was
showing between the hem of my tank and the top of my yoga pants.

He was aroused too—the tight bulge in his pants thrilling
and increasingly evident. I rubbed myself against it until he groaned.

“Damn, princess, wait,” he rasped.

The endearment, more than his plea, caused me to cease the
grinding of my hips.

“You really want this?” Jack was searching my face as if he
were trying to read my mind.

“Yes.” I knew he was serious about needing to know why, after
I’d resisted for so long, so I managed to restrain my lust for long enough to
explain, “I never do what I really want, so I want to do it now.”

 I realized what a risk I’d taken in so many ways as my
words lingered in the air, only the background noise of the television breaking
the silence.

Then Jack’s fingers tightened in the soft flesh of my bottom.
“Sounds good to me,” he murmured and pulled me down into a kiss. He wrapped one
arm around me, pressing my chest against his. The position pushed my groin
against his even more, and I groaned into his mouth at the delicious friction.

When our mouths tore apart, Jack grabbed the back of my head
to keep my face close to his. He rubbed his skin against mine, the rough
texture grating with a slight discomfort that was oddly erotic.

I gasped against his cheek, momentarily afraid I was going
to lose it just from the pressure of his groin against mine combined with the
friction of his jaw.

Whimpering softly, I fisted my hand in his hair, pulling on
it in a way that must have hurt. “God, Jack! I’m dying here.”

He gave a hoarse chuckle and then a little buck up against me.
“You’re not the only one.”

But he responded to my plea, sliding off my blouse and then
hooking his fingers around the waistband of my pants to pull them down over my
hips.

I lifted up and extended each leg in turn until we were able
to get rid of my pants. My panties were little bikinis in pink cotton—not
really intended for public viewing. But Jack’s eyes were warm and approving as
he gazed down at me before I straddled his lap once more.

Instead of cupping my bottom, this time he cupped my groin
with one hand.

I blushed when I realized that he’d feel how wet I was—my
desire dampening the cotton.

“Damn, princess,” he rasped, arching his back slightly as he
applied pressure on my pulsing clit with the heel of his hand.

I gave a little sob of pleasure and rode his hand
instinctively, bracing myself with my hands on his broad shoulders.

His fingers dipped under the fabric so that he could stroke me.
“Fuck, you feel good. You’re so wet.”

If possible, I reddened even more. But I worked through the
embarrassment to say, “I told you I was dying here. What did you think I
meant?”

He didn’t bother to answer my question, and I didn’t care
when he murmured, “Come here.” He gestured with his free hand and then pulled
my face back down to kiss me.

My self-consciousness forgotten, I responded to his deep
kiss, still tasting the tang of the wine we’d had earlier in his mouth. One of
my hands moved up to his face, and I rubbed his bristly jaw, unable to feel
enough of the rough texture beneath my palm.

We’d established a sensual rhythm between our bodies, Jack
giving gentle thrusts up as I pushed my pelvis down toward his upward pressure.
I was so into it that my pleasure built up in urgency until I was just on the
edge of coming.

When I started whimpering and huffing against his mouth and
my body began to shake, Jack tore his mouth away with a jerk. “Okay. We better
move along. One or both of us is going to lose it pretty soon.”

With a shaking laugh, I fumbled at the top button of his
jeans, my hand brushing against the tight bulge of his arousal as I worked. “I
could lose it without too much trouble. But I’d be rather disappointed if you
lost it.”

“Yeah.” Jack’s voice was dry despite the sexy tension on his
face. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

I was starting to unzip him when he put a hand on mine.
“Wait. Do you have condoms here?”

“No.” My excitement dropped uncomfortably. “I don’t. Do you
have any at your place?”

“Yeah. Hop off a minute, and I’ll get them.”

“Them?” Despite our mutual frustration, I couldn’t help but
tease him a little as I swung my leg over his lap. It was totally new—this
desire to tease in the midst of foreplay. “Kind of ambitious, aren’t you?”

“Princess,” he drawled with a half-smile. “You have no
idea.”

Before I could get over the shiver from that, he’d heaved
himself up off the couch.

He was a rumpled mess—tousled hair, half-open pants,
wrinkled shirt, obvious erection. But the sight of him sent jolts of pleasure through
my body, along with a silly kind of pride that I was the one who’d made him
look that way.

“Aren’t you going?” I demanded, more aroused than ever and
tempted to sneak my hand between my legs to take care of myself right away.

“Hold on.” He’d taken a couple of steps but then stopped,
bracing himself with one hand on the wall. He took a few deep breaths,
obviously trying to get himself under control enough to make the trek to his
apartment.

I giggled at him, which earned me a narrow-eyed glare that
made me giggle even harder.

He relented enough to smile in response and then went to get
the condoms.

“Change your mind?” Jack asked when he returned just a
minute later.

“No.” Frowning, I reached up to pull him back down to his
former sitting position on the couch. “Why would I have changed my mind?”

He shook his head and unfastened his pants. “I thought maybe
after you had a minute to think, you’d decide this wasn’t what you wanted.”

Scowling at him, I slid off my panties and straddled his lap
again. “You were very wrong.”

“Good.” His hands slid around the back of my thighs until he
could feel between my legs. “I’m glad.”

He was already unzipped, so all I had to do was pull out his
erection. I stared down at his hard flesh in my hands, my fingers pale and
small against him.

He sucked in a sharp breath as I gently stroked him with my
fingertips. The sound sent a tug of pleasure down to my arousal. I brushed my
palm against the head, mostly to hear him make another sound like that.

“Damn!” he gasped, stiffening his spine and clamping his
fingers down on my bare bottom.

I looked up with an expression of pleased surprise. “That
good?”

“Oh, princess, keep it up, and that will be as good as it
gets.”

I chuckled, and apparently my soft amusement prompted him to
smile too. So we were both half-laughing when he rolled on a condom and when I
raised myself up on my thighs above him.

He held himself in place as I lowered myself over him.

I sucked in a breath and arched my back, my mouth falling
open as I tried to adjust to the penetration. Either because of his size or the
position, he felt incredibly big inside me, my inner walls stretching around
him tightly.

“That doesn’t look like a good face.” Jack’s voice broke
into my consciousness. He was tense beneath me, and his hands were still tight
on my ass. But his mouth was relaxed and his voice almost natural.

Catching my breath, I felt myself adjusting around him. The
slight discomfort eased to a deliciously snug, clingy feeling. And I smiled
down at his sharp scrutiny. “Oh no. It’s definitely good.”

He released a long breath that sounded like relief. “That’s
good. Because it seems pretty good to me too.” He gave a little thrust
up—causing a jolt of pleasure to shoot through me.

His honest warmth and dry humor made me feel oddly relaxed
and comfortable—given that I was half-naked and on top of him. I gave a breathy
laugh and leaned down to capture his mouth in another kiss.

Jack returned my kiss with skill and leisurely
attention—stroking my lips, my tongue, and the inside of my mouth with his
tongue. With my arms twined around his neck, I couldn’t suppress the silly
whimpers and groans in the back of my throat. It felt good, and my guard was
down. My vocal responses were inevitable.

Jack’s hands tightened on the flesh of my ass, and his grip
began to urge me into motion. He guided my hips in a steady rhythm, which I
sustained by levering up and down with my thighs.

The motion caused him to slide deliciously inside me, the stimulation
exactly what I needed.

Jack was breathing harshly through his nose as he kissed me,
and as my motion intensified he began to make soft, guttural grunts that
sounded both primitive and sexy as hell. His response encouraged me to
accelerate my bouncing over him—wanting to hear more of those grunts.

My motion forced my mouth away from Jack’s, but I kept my
face near his. I was panting now too, and the mingled texture of our fast
breathing formed a connection, a sharing that made me feel even closer to him.
As I leaned toward him, my cheek rubbed against his—his scratchy skin grating
against my hot cheek. The sensation startled me in its sudden harshness, making
me gasp and jerk away.

Jack was still in control, but he was sweating, and his eyes
devoured my face and jiggling breasts. At my abrupt move, he gave a strangled
rasp, his fingers digging into my bottom almost painfully. “Okay?”

I had to inhale twice before I had breath to reply. “Yeah.
Your whiskers scared the crap out of me.”

I didn’t usually use expressions like that, although I’d
heard them often enough. My words must have surprised him. He made a choking
sound that I soon realized was a hoarse laugh. When I resumed my urgent motion,
one of his hands released my bottom, my skin clinging to his fingers as he
pulled them away. He moved the hand up to curve around the back of my head, his
fingers sliding through my loose hair.

For some reason, I loved the way his strong hand felt in my
hair, against my head. Then he pressed my face toward him, so forcefully I
couldn’t resist.

I thought he was bringing me into another kiss, but he
didn’t align his lips with mine. Instead, he guided my face down toward his so
he could rub his cheek against mine.

The grating texture against my already sensitive skin made
me squeal. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was sharp stimulation when I was
already intensely stimulated elsewhere.

He chuckled again—strangled and breathless—at my reaction.
He was trying to match my motion with little thrusts of his hips, but he was
still coordinated enough to rub my cheek against his again.

I was expecting it this time, so the feeling was more
pleasurable than surprising. But I choked out on a half-laugh, “You’re going to
rub off my skin!”

I playfully resisted, while he playfully tried to move me
back.

My cheek ended up getting rubbed so raw it burned with a
pleasant sensitivity. And our scuffle caused both of us to laugh so much we
momentarily lost the momentum of our lovemaking.

I was gasping and giggling against his neck, both of my arms
wrapped around him tightly, when I felt him let go of my head at last.

I’d never laughed during sex before. I’d never even known it
was possible.

 “Did I ruin the mood?” Jack asked, sounding surprisingly
dry.

His body was big and solid and strong against mine, and I
could sense the growing tension in his muscles.

“Oh, no.” I squirmed above him, feeling him—hard and
substantial—move inside me. “God, you feel good.”

I meant all of him—his body and his warm soul.

Jack let out a lingering groan as I began to ride him
again—this time hard and fast. His hands had been spanning my ribcage, but now
they moved up slightly until he could stroke my nipples with his thumbs. My
breasts were bouncing up and down, and that combined with his caress to
intensify my building orgasm. “You feel incredible,” Jack murmured as his eyes
devoured my shaking form. “Damn, baby, you’re so hot.”