Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“A story,” he repeats, his breath hot on my mouth, enough to moisten my lips. “Have you heard the one about the princess’s bodyguard?”
“No,” I whisper, trapped in his gaze. “Tell me.”
His chest begins to move faster, both of us sucking in a breath when our lips brush once, twice. “He came to the palace hell-bent on hating the princess, but he couldn’t do it. She’s too sweet. And he doesn’t even like sweet things, but he…” His lips twist over mine now. Not a kiss. A writhe. “He wonders about all the places she’s sweet.”
I gasp at his forwardness but do nothing to stop or chastise him.
I can’t. I like it too much.
My mother would have a seizure if she could see me spread out for my bodyguard on the seat of the SUV, his hips pressed in tight between my thighs, our mouths tangled in the beginning stages of a kiss…and now Conrad’s hand is dragging down the valley of my side to take my knee in its grip, slowly draw it higher, allowing his lower body to grow heavier, pressurizing a whimper out of me. But I whimper for an entirely different reason when his thumb brushes lightly over my brand. He doesn’t break our intense eye contact while he circles the painful mark.
“Who the fuck did this to you, Greta?”
“You know who.”
“I want names. I want locations.” He searches my eyes and I’m taken aback by the rage I see in his, though it’s tempered by…affection? For me? “What happened, baby?”
The pressure he’s applying to the juncture of my thighs combined with that rasp of baby is making me feel funny. Heavy and uncomfortable…in an enjoyable way? Does that even make sense? “About a year ago, I traveled north for a summit. The rebels were ready to negotiate an armistice. Or so they said. My mother thought it was time I represent the palace, but…I let her down. I didn’t recognize soon enough that we’d been duped. It was a trap. They intercepted our convoy as we crossed the border.” I’m breathing so hard, his mouth just above mine. Focusing on his vengeful eyes is all I can do. “They kept me for two weeks, demanding my mother set their prisoners free. She couldn’t. Not without jeopardizing our troops. Not right away. And…”
“They hurt you.”
I nod.
“Badly enough that you sleep in a closet with a fucking dagger.” His voice is anguished, his face dropping into the crook of my neck, rubbing there. “And I was horrible to you. I am the worst kind of bastard. One who judges without having the facts.”
My fingers find purchase in his hair, stroking, razing his scalp with my nails. “It’s okay. The details weren’t made public. You would have no way of knowing—”
“It’s not okay,” he growls, rolling his puckered forehead against mine. “Were you raped, princess?”
“No. No.”
He makes a sound that I can’t describe. It’s excess frustration and a downpour of relief, all at the same time. “I won’t rest until I’ve spat on their graves.” His mouth roams over mine, but it’s still not a kiss. It’s a reassuring touch. It’s our lips becoming acquainted, even if their acquaintance can only be brief. It’s comfort and neither one of us can help it, our breaths accelerating, my legs growing anxious around his hips. And God, when those hips shift upward, to the right and I feel something thick and large and stiff tuck my against the seam of my pants, I cry out behind my teeth. “I won’t rest until the nightmares are banished from your head.”
“That’s not your job, Commander,” I assure him, gasping when he moves again, the friction shooting static all the way down to my toes. “Your obligation to me will be fulfilled soon. Today. I promise.”
His eyes pinch shut. “I’m going to regret all that obligation talk, aren’t I?”
What does he mean? Why would he regret being truthful?
“I’m going to set you free of your obligation to me soon, but…” I arch my back a little, wanting to make the most of the moment before it comes to an end. There’s no other option. We have to stop. “My life is nothing but obligations.”
He reaches beneath me to cradle my backside, lifting and yanking me against his groin, his powerful body shuddering above me. “You don’t need to think about anything but this right now,” he rasps.
“If you were obligated to get married to a prince in a couple weeks’ time, would you be able to forget about it for a second?” I ask, squeaking when he pins me hard to the seat, his face a mask of denial.
“Married to…?” he bellows, the reality of the situation returning to him in a rush, him visibly remembering what lies ahead for me. “Nothing is set in stone. You could very easily hate him. I already fucking do.”