He waited, and groaned with pleasure when she dropped to her knees and took him deeply in her mouth. God, her mouth was perfection. He dug his hands into her hair and watched her lave him with her tongue before taking him deeply again.
He was a man who enjoyed sex, but this was the first time he’d felt consumed by it. The things she did with her fingers and her tongue erased all ability to think from him. He wasn’t used to feeling out of control, but had they stopped then, he surely would have died.
Too soon, an orgasm surged. He warned her gently, and she used her hands to finish him. As he slowly came back to earth, he knew he’d never forget the sight of her still on her knees before him. He shook himself off, adjusted his clothing, then helped her to her feet and pulled her into his arms.
For some time they simply stood there, holding each other. He hadn’t meant to take it as far as it had gone, but it had confirmed what he’d already suspected—the more he had of her, the more he wanted her, and that meant that his plan required some adjusting. “Tomorrow, after we visit the hospital, I’ll check you in to a hotel.”
They weren’t the words any woman would welcome after what they’d shared. Rachelle stiffened in his arms. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure we’ll be flying back to London.”
“Not if Eric checks in to the clinic here.”
Oh, shit. I forgot about that. “Either way, I am perfectly capable of making a reservation on my own.” What kind of sister am I? Where’s my brain? She remembered the intense orgasm that had rocked through her only moments before and shook her head in disgust.
“You’re in my country and therefore you’re my responsibility.”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s responsibility.” She attempted to pull away from him, but his hold on her tightened.
With a hand firmly on each of her hips, he said, “Why fight me, little Rachelle, when we both know you want to be mine?”
Her body clenched and clamored for just that, even as her mind rejected the idea. “What an outdated and sexist thing to say to a woman.”
His hands slid around her waist, cupped her ass, and pulled her flush against him. “Then I definitely shouldn’t say how beautiful you looked with your mouth wrapped around my cock.” She shoved at his chest and would have torn herself away from him if his grip was not so strong. “Save your outrage, for I equally love the idea of burying my face between those thighs of yours. And I will taste you fully—tonight. We will make love until we fall asleep in each other’s arms; then I will wake you with my tongue. Would you like that? Would you like to be fucked so completely that your favorite place will be on your knees for me?”
That’s so wrong.
And so delicious-sounding.
His hand had already brought her more pleasure than half the men she’d had sex with. What would the full package be capable of? Still, his arrogance was over-the-top. She bit her lip as hunger surged within her and tried to remember why not taking things further with him was probably the sanest choice. Controlling men were sexy in movies and books, but Rachelle had come to London to find herself, not hand her independence over to a man. Not even a prince. “And what will your favorite place be?” Above me?
A lusty smile curved his lips. “Wherever brings you the most pleasure.”
Holy shit.
The sound of a male voice broke through the silence of the night. “Excuse me, Your Royal Highness, but Mr. Westerly is looking for his sister.”
Magnus released Rachelle slowly and turned to address a member of his royal guard, who remained out of view. “Tell him we’ll meet him in the drawing room shortly.”
“As you wish.”
Blushing deeply, Rachelle adjusted her clothing and was relieved to discover it was mostly in place. She clipped her bra quickly and smoothed her hair down with shaking hands. She wasn’t ready to face her brother.
Magnus tucked his shirt back into his trousers. “There’s time to freshen up before seeing Eric.”
How does he always seem to know what I’m thinking? “I don’t want to look like I just—I don’t want him to think we—”
Magnus kissed her lips gently. “That is why tomorrow you will be in a hotel.” He groaned. “And why I can wait a little longer to have you. I told myself I would go slowly.”
“The hotel is a good idea.” She could hardly breathe as her body hummed for him again. The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess. Only this isn’t about love—it’s sex, pure and simple. No, not pure or simple. This sex is carnal and complicated. “Slower would be better.” Before I become someone I don’t respect. All of this can wait until I know Eric is safe.
Even as his eyes burned with desire for her, he nodded. “Then come. Let’s go inside.” As they walked together, he asked, “Did you have a question about tomorrow?”
“I did.” Although it felt like a lifetime ago that she’d gone in search of him to ask. “I know there isn’t much time, but the more I thought about our visit to the hospital tomorrow, the more I thought we should bring something with us.”
“No clowns.”
Rachelle laughed at his joke. “That’s a given. No, what I mean is something to hand out to the children—especially if Eric is only willing to meet Finn. There will be a lot of disappointed children, and a stuffed Water Bear Man might appease them somewhat. Also, has anyone thought about his costume? Will he be wearing it during the visit? If you want him to, you may need to have someone fly it over. Since he’s not actually a superhero, I doubt he travels with it.”
“I did have the costume sent with some of his things, but I like the idea of having something for each of the children. They weren’t exactly happy with my first visit.”
Surprised, she stopped. She’d seen the public’s reaction. It was difficult to imagine that children in his own country wouldn’t also hero-worship him. “Tell me.”
He stopped and pocketed his hands. The tension in his features made him look much harsher than she’d come to view him. “I didn’t know some of them were afraid of clowns. They started screaming and making a production like a bunch of—”
“Children.”
A corner of his mouth curved upward. “I settled them down, but it wasn’t pleasant.”
Oh no. He wouldn’t have . . . he didn’t . . . “You didn’t yell at them, did you?”
“It was the only way to be heard.”
“At a hospital for sick children?” He looked uncomfortable enough with the topic that she almost felt bad for chastising him. Almost.
He rocked back onto his heels. “My father usually handles such things, but he hasn’t been feeling well.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry. Is it serious?”
“The doctor says everything at his age is serious. Lately, though, he tires easily, and it is more difficult to get him out of bed each day.”
“Will he be there tomorrow?”
“There are too many unpredictable elements for me to want him there. If it goes well, he’ll be pleased to hear about it. If it is a repeat of my first visit, I’ll break it to him on a day when he looks able to handle the news.”
There was a vulnerability about Magnus that was unexpected when glimpsed. Rachelle took his hand in hers. “Tomorrow will go well. I’m good with children. Just follow my lead.”
He looked down at her hand around his and linked his fingers with hers. “So, you have a way with little brats?”
Although he was joking, she corrected him. “I doubt there is a brat in that place—just a lot of scared children who probably love you already and would show you if you let them see the softer side of you.”
“I don’t have a softer side.”
Rather than take him at his word, she reviewed the many things he’d said to her, then snapped her fingers when the answer came to her. “Yes, you do. You have your mother in you, and she’s always with you. I bet when your father isn’t sure how to act, he thinks of her. Tomorrow, try it and see if it changes how you see those children.”
His hand tightened on hers. “I’m glad I was wrong about you being a prostitute.”