Box Set: Puppy and the Prince Read online

  I began to gasp as he lifted his shoulders off me, seeking leverage. The thrusts became harder, more forceful, driving him deep into me. Shudders ran up my skin with each motion. My hands grasped buttocks like rocks and squeezed. I almost came right there and then. I began pulling him into me, urging him faster, harder, until the entire bed was rocking, and the walls were shaking, and I was crying out at the feelings he was generating.

  He began to gasp too. Then I felt him swell inside me. With every bit of strength I had left, I squeezed my hips as tight as I could.

  His eyes widened as everything became tighter than it ever had before. I could feel every long inch of him. I could feel his reaction to me. And I could feel that swell within him culminate in an explosion that sent my eyes rolling back in my head, setting off multiple explosions in me too. We clung to each other as we both rode fireworks.

  When we were done I expected him to collapse on top of me. But he didn’t. Instead he withdrew, still hard, and commanded me to roll over.

  “You can’t be serious,” I gasped.

  He seized me, pulling ruined panties swiftly from my legs. I shivered as I felt him slide back in, discovering that I wasn’t, in fact, as tired or spent as I’d only moments before believed. I fell to my elbows as his hands seized my hips, and looked at myself in the mirror beside the bed. The black dress still hung over my back; tattered hem pushed up now and bunched around my hips. My breasts still hung from their black lace bra, swinging slowly to his rhythm, pendulums following their own special beat. And there, rocking above my back, was Xander—biceps bulging as he gripped me, stomach muscles flexing as his hips moved back and forth. I caught his eye in the mirror. It was full of lust.

  He began to move faster again.

  * * *

  Two hours later I sat wrapped in a dressing gown on Xander’s balcony. It was a cool night, but I was so deliciously warm and fuzzy I could be naked and it wouldn’t matter. I had been naked for the better part of the evening.

  “One sweet martini, as requested.” Xander placed a frosted cocktail glass in my hand. It had a lychee floating on top. He sat down beside me, his own drink pinned by three olives. We stared at the view in comfortable silence as I sipped my drink.

  I’d been so intent on Xander I hadn’t noticed the penthouse when we’d stumbled in. The balcony had stunning 360 degree views of the city—I knew, because I’d walked the entire way round—and the furnishings and décor were rich and luxurious. It was so large it had sun chairs, which we were both sitting on right now.

  “This is beautiful,” I said, taking in the view. “I love that you have a place like this.”

  “I have several actually, around the world. At cities I visit regularly, it makes more sense to have my own apartment than stay in a hotel.”

  I pulled my dressing gown tighter. “You’ll be going again soon, won’t you?”

  He nodded. “I may be back, but I don’t know when. I’d like to see you again though.”

  His comment made me suddenly angry. “That’s fine for you to say. You probably have a girl in every port! What am I supposed to do, just wait around?”

  “Kate, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  I sighed, closing my eyes. “Sorry. I know, and it’s not your fault. I knew this could only ever be a temporary thing. It’s just… every time I find a great man, you know?

  “Have you had many men before?” he asked curiously.

  I sighed again. “In honesty? Not really. And no-one quite like you. That’s the problem. Now you’re leaving. I’ve tasted the fruit, and it’s being taken away.”

  “I’m not going yet.”

  “How long will you stay?”

  “I don’t know. As long as possible. But that might only be a few days.”

  “Will you go back to Alonia?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “I’d like to go there one day.”

  He hesitated. “Things would be difficult if you came.”

  My chest tightened. “That’s right. You said your mother was trying to set you up with someone.”

  He hesitated again. “It’s a little more complicated than that—my life back home is very political. Sometimes the people I spend my time with are not the people I want to spend my time with.”

  He fell silent, and I didn’t press the point. It didn’t matter, really—he’d be gone in a few days. I should start getting used to that fact.

  “So I guess it’s just tonight, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not sure how long I’m here for. It could be days, it could be weeks.”

  I’d thought I would be okay with something casual, but now I was here… “I… don’t think I can do that, Xander. I think if I did, I might… well… fall too hard,” I said quietly. I’d been so hooked on the fantasy of someone wanting me that I hadn’t thought about where it might lead. How it might make me feel in the end.

  He looked at me. “What are you saying?”

  I regretted nothing, but it was time to set some rules. To make sure there would be no regrets. “It can’t be any more than one night. Not if you’re leaving. Not if you have someone waiting back home.”

  He reached out to stroke my forearm as I stared out at the view. “I don’t know if I can do that. There’s something about you—something that makes me think… I want to see you tomorrow, too.”

  “I won’t let you.”

  “I’ll make you let me.”

  I thought again about the lavish dinner. And the last two hours. And how he treated Baxter. “But that’s not fair.”

  “Romance never is.”

  “Is that what this is now?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Not without your permission. Right now? It’s a battle of wills.”

  “Oh really?” I asked with a smile. He could be charming when he wanted to be.

  He nodded. “Yes. And the battle ground is right here, tonight.” He put his drink down, pulling me up. “Because I think I’ve just found a loophole—a clause we can both exploit.”

  “What’s that?”

  He began to undo the belt on my dressing gown. “You said this could be one night only. But the night’s not over. And so I’ve still got time to convince you.”

  My body pressed into his as his fingers worked the knot. “Really?”

  “It’s the rules,” he murmured

  The dressing gown fell to the floor, leaving me naked in the moonlight. My hands went for his. “Firetruck it. I did say one night only, didn’t I?”

  He shook his head, pushing my hands away. “I’m trying to convince you, remember?” He lay me back onto the deck chair, handing me my drink before kneeling between my legs.

  “Oh.”

  He leaned in. I felt his warm breath slide up my leg, hot on my inner thigh. Cool liquid slid down my throat. And then-

  His tongue lapped at me softly—tiny quick caresses that sent shivers up my spine, my grip tightening on the drink. “Firetruck,” I mouthed again.

  I felt his fingers grasp me, though I could only see his head, pulling me apart, giving him greater access. The laps got longer—still light as a ladybug’s touch, but now all the way up from my center to the very tip encasing it. Little shivers of pleasure began to generate inside, growing slowly each time he circled that part leading deep inside me, or that soft button just above. Goosebumps spread down both thighs.

  He looked up at me, a wicked smile on his face. “Am I convincing you yet?”

  I was feeling cheeky. “The less clothing you wear, the more likely I am to be convinced.”

  He raised an eyebrow but then stood, a smile on his face, and drew the cord from around his waist. His dressing gown fell open.

  I lay back, drinking in the view, marveling at the figure before me. The dressing gown slid off his back, pooling at his feet.

  Piercing, confident blue eyes attempted to lock my gaze but failed as I roved his body. It was tanned and hairless above—everything in perfect proportion. Six neat abdominal squares
stood in rank down his stomach, framed on either side by a cut V at the hips you could only get from working out.

  And below? I took another sip of my cocktail. No amount of working out could get you those inches. Those were by the good grace of nature herself. I watched as he began to swell under my gaze, filling out—turned on by looking at me even as I could feel myself becoming turned on by observing him. He made me want to remember every detail. To never close my eyes, so I would have something to replay in my head over and over again when he left. He sank back down before me, parting my legs once more.

  It didn’t take him long to have me back where we left off; his fingers holding me apart, his tongue lapping at my center. I put my drink down for fear of snapping the stem in two and began to groan, shifting my legs, inviting him deeper.

  He obliged, his tongue growing firmer against me, his fingers beginning to play and circle too. I looked down, enjoying the ripple of back muscles as he worked, and picked up my cocktail for another sip. It felt so decadent, like I was in a midsummer’s dream, a queen whose every debaucherous desire might come true. The liquid was cool in my mouth, the pleasure heightening the taste as it did all my senses.

  A finger slid inside me. I swallowed in surprise, gasping at the liquid burning its way down. At the pleasure burning its way up. The finger began to move, driving splinters of ecstasy deep inside.

  “Faster,” I managed to croak between breaths.

  He complied. I could feel him moving in and out, in time with his tongue. Fast, and then faster still as my breathing quickened. The pleasure was not just in my hips now. It was in my throat, and the pit of my stomach, and every fiber that he was touching, or rubbing, or licking.

  I took a final drink, swallowing hard, finishing the glass. I wouldn’t have time for another—my whole body was riding this rising wave of rapture, feeding upon the movement of tongue and fingers.

  I felt another finger enter. Stretching me, like his member had. I groaned, my whole body unable to take much more. My hand moved to his head, forcing him down, deeper, all thought removed but the desire for that finish just around the corner.

  The rough rasp of his tongue.

  The smooth, fast entry and exit of his fingers.

  “Firetruck.” I was getting light headed. “Firetruck. Firetruck. Fire-”

  His fingers slid inside one final, magnificent, heart stopping time, and the last part of the sentence ended in an orgasmic cry so loud it must surely have echoed off the other buildings below. Everything tightened—my legs, my stomach, my shoulders; and I curled up into a ball, gripping him tightly as delight washed through my body in so many waves I thought I was drowning.

  I let him go, embarrassed, when I could finally breathe. “Oh. My. Goodness. What did you just do to me?”

  He stood up, hard and erect, pulling me up too. “Nothing yet.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able,” I said, my lips on his.

  “That’s what you said last time.” He pushed me against the wall, holding one hand above me, pinning me back. I gripped his long, hard member with the other.

  It felt smooth and silky in my hands—a delightful incongruence to my last memory of it, driving hard and fast inside. My thumb rolled over its head. I saw it quiver, excitement generating a tiny bead of moisture at its tip. Yes. I wanted him inside me.

  I guided him to my center. He raised my leg slightly, then entered. We both sighed in contentment at the joining of our bodies.

  Arm still above me, he began to move slowly, his hard rod a smooth pleasure. It slid to its hilt within me, then out, then in once more. My free hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing. The other pulled free to scratch down his back. I felt his shoulders tense, and then both his hands were on my hips, bracing me, and his pace began to quicken.

  It was like a switch had been flipped. Our mouths locked, searching each other’s desperately, and suddenly the urgency was back, filling us, driving us forward. I began to move against him as his motions got harder and harder, each one driving pleasure deep within my body. I groaned, biting his neck, my breasts flattened against his hard chest. One leg lifted to ride upon his hip.

  It was like I could feel him in every inch of me. He was between my thighs, but also as a tingle between my toes, a tightness in my throat, a glow building quickly in my chest. I was against a cold wall, but my skin was hot. His thrusts were hard, but his eyes were soft. His hands on my hips were rough, yet all I could feel was pleasure.

  Sweat began to bead across his shoulders. The look in his eyes changed. He was losing control, becoming the wild animal I had seen before.

  I cried out. I was being firetrucked— no, fucked—with the urgency of a wild animal and it was getting harder and harder to hold the pleasure in; to not scream it to the world.

  I tried to focus, to wait for him. To think of anything but that look in his eyes that I was sure I mirrored. To feel anything but his long, hard member driving deep inside me. To know anything but the need to have that pleasure explode through me, whitewashing my mind.

  I tried to hold out. But suddenly, I knew I couldn’t. It felt too good. My whole body began to shudder-

  I let go.

  A torrent flooded through me, eclipsing anything I’d ever felt before, electrifying every part of me as I screamed in ecstasy at the sky. The ripples between my legs set him off too—I felt him swell and then burst within me, his own cry joining mine, each of us building upon the other, the warmth he was releasing within me a demonstration of his emotions.

  We both slid to the ground, panting as the earthquake subsided.

  “Oh. My. Goodness. What did you just do to me?” I asked. “I’ve never, ever felt anything like that before in my life!”

  He leaned back against the cold wall too. “Me neither. Trust me, this is something special.” Then he looked over at me. “So have I convinced you yet?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but his eyes suddenly widened. “I don’t believe it.”

  “What?” I asked, alarmed.

  He looked down. My gaze followed.

  “Don’t answer that question,” he growled. “It seems I have a lot more convincing to do yet!”

  EPILOGUE

  We slept until the sun was high in the sky, both of us content but exhausted. A knock at the door woke us up.

  “I’m sorry, your Majesty?” A head poked around, and I quickly scrabbled to pull the sheets up. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.”

  Xander rolled over sleepily. “What is it Richards?”

  “I’ve cancelled your morning meetings, I’m just wondering if you’ll be able to make the afternoon sessions.”

  Xander waved his hand in the direction of the door, squinting against the light. “Cancel the lot of them.” He nuzzled into the crook of my neck. “I’ve got some more convincing to do.”

  “Very good sire.” The door closed gently, shrouding the room in soft darkness once more.

  Sheets rustled as Xander’s naked body moved against me, but for once my mind wasn’t on it. Something wasn’t right. Something had just occurred that I should have paid more attention to.

  I stared up at the ceiling. Xander nuzzled against me again, but I pushed him away. He’d cancelled his meetings, was that it?

  I shook my head. No.

  Was it that he assumed that he’d won? That he had me for the rest of the time he was here? I shook my head again. No. Even as I’d said those words last night, I’d known I couldn’t stay away. He’d already won. Or maybe I had.

  Something else. Something when I first woke up.

  I’d have to get home to feed Baxter soon-

  Concentrate, Kate! What was it Richards had said when he first entered the room? Suddenly I froze, then scrabbled as far back as I could against the wall. He’d said Your Majesty. “You’re a king!” I exclaimed.

  Xander shook his head sleepily. “No, I’m not,” he replied.

  I began to relax.

  He op
ened his eyes and looked at me with a wince. “Actually, I’m a prince.”

  BOOK 2:

  The Puppy and the Damsel

  Kate’s night of passion with a sexy stranger was supposed to be just harmless fun. But the handsome stranger is a prince, and that complicates things.

  It would be best for them both if they stayed away from each other. The problem is, it’s so hard when it feels so good—especially when he’s so good and hard!

  CHAPTER ONE

  He dropped me back to my place the day after. Not a taxi. Not his driver. Xander personally. Though he was late for an opening of some sort or another, he took the time to drive me from his million dollar penthouse to my crappy place in the burbs.

  I don’t know why that meant so much to me. Perhaps because last night had happened so suddenly—dropping me home meant he thought of me as more than a booty call.

  I could hear Baxter’s barks as soon as Xander opened the car door—the poor puppy had been home alone all night. I felt bad about that, though the sweet ache between my legs as we walked to my door said it was worth it.

  Oh yes. And he was a prince. He’d just casually dropped that in my lap like it was nothing.

  Most people would say that was a good thing. I know my girlfriends would, if I ever told them—a billionaire, and heir to a kingdom to boot.

  But not me. To me it was a death knell; the last rites read on a relationship before it even began. I’d known he was going. But still, somewhere deep inside, I’d hoped that maybe things would work out anyway. That maybe, at the last minute, his work would keep him here. That we’d have something in common. That things might turn out as I hoped, not as reality dictated.

  But he was royalty. And by the very definition of the word, I was a commoner. I wasn’t fancy, or classy, or even moderately wealthy—let alone rich. I could no more fit into his world than he could fit into mine. And he couldn’t stay, even if he wanted to. He had a country to rule. I’d never be as important as his kingdom.