Page 97 of Bad Prince
Then I kiss her.
And holy hell.
It's not just a kiss. It's never been just a kiss with her — but this, out here in the dark with fireflies and distant bass and her back against the bark and my hand cradling her face like she's something I'm terrified of dropping — this is something else entirely.
Her mouth is warm velvet and sweet sparkling water and something underneath both of those things that tastes dangerously, recklessly like forever. The second her lips move against mine — slow at first, testing, remembering — I feel it everywhere at once. A rush of heat floods my chest, my stomach, lower. My toes curl inside the stupid mascot feet. Her tongue brushes mine, tentative and then suddenly bold, and a low groan tears from my throat before I can swallow it back.
She makes a soft sound against my mouth in response.
That sound nearly destroys me.
I deepen the kiss — tilting her head just enough to take more, to fit my mouth more perfectly against hers — and she melts into me like she's been waiting for exactly this angle. Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt, fisting the fabric tight, pullingme closer even as her spine arches gently back against the tree. Every slow slide of her lips against mine sends heat skittering down my spine, pooling low and urgent. Every tiny whimper she can't quite hold back makes my pulse stutter.
She tastes like summer nights and second chances and every single thing I've been starving for since the moment I met her.
My free hand finds her waist — just above the hem of her sweater, fingertips brushing the warm strip of skin there — and she shivers. Not from cold. I feel the shiver travel through her whole body like I plucked a string.
I slide my palm flat against the small of her back and pull, and she comes willingly, completely, chest pressing to mine with a soft exhale that I swallow whole. Her hands uncurl from my shirt and travel upward — fingers skimming my jaw, my neck, threading into my hair with a tentative grip that tightens the longer we kiss. Like she's anchoring herself. Like she doesn't trust her own legs.
Good. Mine aren't doing much better.
Her mouth is soft and plush and so impossibly responsive — every time I slow down she chases it, every time I press deeper she sighs into me — and it is driving me completely, exquisitely insane. I'm coming undone at every seam and being reassembled into something entirely new, something that only makes sense when her lips are moving against mine like this.
My cock strains against my shorts. Thank fuck she can’t feel how hard she makes me, the tree costume makes sure of that. She’s strong as hell but with me she becomes a frightened little bird, waiting t flee at the first sign of unrestrained passion. I love the chase— but I don’t want her to fly away on me again.
When we finally break apart we're both breathing hard.
Her lips are swollen and glistening. Cheeks flushed deep rose. Eyes heavy-lidded and dark, glassy with the same heat stillburning through my bloodstream. Her fingers are still tangled loosely in my hair.
Neither of us moves.
The fireflies drift between the branches.
The bass pulses faint and far away.
"Tree disguise," she murmurs, voice low and husky and completely undone, "might be the weirdest way you've ever kissed me."
I grin — forehead still resting against hers, thumb stroking slow across her bottom lip because I physically cannot stop touching her, because her mouth is swollen from kissing me and I want to catalogue every detail of this moment until it's permanent.
"Worth it."
She laughs softly.
And for the first time since I crashed back into her universe—she doesn't look like she regrets me being here.
I let her go first.
She walks back toward the party lights, brushing her fingers over her mouth like she can still feel the kiss there.
Hell, I can still feel it.
Her lips looked a little swollen when she turned back once, smiling to herself before disappearing into the glow of the fire pit and music.
I lean back against the tree trunk and drag a hand over my face.
“Yeah,” I mutter to myself. “I’m gonna need a minute.”
The mascot suit rustles when I shift, the stupid foam branches brushing my shoulders. I glance down at the ridiculous costume and shake my head.
