Page 144 of My Dark Prince
Spasmed all over my fingers, her sweet dripping cunt contracting tighter and tighter.
A rush of hot liquid met my fingers through the fabric. That almost did me in. I bit my tongue until it bled, forcing myself not to come at the sight of her orgasm. So familiar and yet so new. She was flushed pink, and happy, andalive.
A symphony of clattered pans and broken glass erupted behind my back.
“Oops.” One of her friends bumped into something. “I – I didn’t know …”
“Out,” I snarled, Briar still putty in my hands, riding the orgasm, too dazed to notice or care.
“Yup. Leaving now. I actually came to grab some ice—”
“Out.”
“Never mind. Yup. I’ll just grab that later.”
Briar collapsed in my arms when she finished. It took a full minute for her to recover. I relished all sixty seconds of her nestled against me, even though my cock was strained, hard, and aching for its own release.
Finally, she came out of the fog.
I knew the moment she did, because she pushed me away, huffing as she hopped off the counter.
“Joke’s on you, Ollie. Iwantedto lose.”
“Watch me be devastated for being taken advantage of.” I eye-fucked her, eyes glued to her plump ass as she strolled out of the kitchen. “I meant what I said about our bet. Any time I want. Any place. One time. I call the shots.”
“That’s fine.” She stopped in front of the doorframe, tossing me a glance behind her shoulder. “I’m not going to fall in love with you again. Just so you know.”
“I’m not expecting you to,” I lied.
Truth was, when it came to her, I wanted everything and nothing at all. She fascinated and frightened me. Lured me in and scared me away.
I perched against the counter, trying to play it cool while my cock pulsated in my pants like a lion’s heart.
“As long as we’re on the same page.” Briar met my eyes, her chin level. “This is not a love story.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Briar
I’m not going to fall in love with you again.
I’d met remortgage pyramid schemes more believable than that bull crap.
“Oh, Briar.” I raked my fingers through my scalp, burying my face into my towel with a scream. “What were you thinking, letting him give you the orgasm of a lifetime?”
The space between my thighs still throbbed. I was so wet, it should’ve been a medical condition at this point. The second I’d hopped onto the lounger, I had to wrap a towel around my waist to cover the evidence.
I flipped onto my back, staring up at the sun, wondering if I’d still crave Oliver if it blinded me.
“Hey, girl.” Hazel swam her way to the edge of the pool, parking her elbows on the rim and squinting up at me. “How was the, um, kitchen?”
It clicked. I felt my soul leave my body to an unspecified destination in the Caribbean islands. Hazel had been the one to walk in on me and Ollie. I’d just spent her entire flight here, ranting through text about how much I hated him, and not even two hours later, she’d caught him doing unholy things to me.
“Just so we’re in agreement … you arenotjumping into the pool until you take a shower and change your bikini.” She pointed to the towel wrapped around my waist. “You just made it to the statistics. One of Ollie’s pool-contaminating hookups.”
Only I didn’t really buy the whole Cowboy Crabsanova image Oliver sold to the world.
People can change, but their core stays the same. Back then, Oliver had been the one to suggest we wait to lose our virginities. I didn’t need the candles, and the roses, and the romantic sunset.Hedid. He’d always needed connection to enjoy intimacy. Even kisses.
