Page 16 of Princessa
Chapter 12
His lips met mine with relentless force; yet at the same time the kiss was acquiescent and yielding.
My hands migrated from the edge of the desk to the length of his back, feverishly gliding up, down, then back up. Looking at Grayson, anyone—my mesmerized self included—could see he was built like the Adonis of every woman’s fantasy. But I didn’t know there was an entire village of never-ending muscle madness lurking underneath his shirt.
Too bad he’s technically spoken for. I mean, even if he could take a woman like you seriously, he’ll never be yours to keep.
I tuned out Santana, my bitchy superego, all decked out in her goody-two-shoes attire. She often popped up at the most inopportune moments.
Not today, Santana; I’ve got a hot prince to kiss.
A moan-like growl escaped Grayson just as my lips parted, an open invitation for his tongue to convene with mine. He tasted like a heady concoction of mint, chocolate, and pure panty-melting man.
Several beats trickled by when his fingers threaded my ponytail loose; the subtle tug that followed caught me off guard. I’d read one or two romance novels where alpha heroes pulled a heroine’s hair into a deeper kiss and there I was, living it out first hand.
Bodies touching, Grayson pressed himself into me. The feel of his erection sent a tsunami of ravenous heat to my center, and I too couldn’t help but moan.
“Grayson…”
It had been a while—aka never—since I’d experienced a kiss so perfectly badass, one that almost knocked the breathless sense out of me.
Like I said,almost…
Before long, the voice of reason forged an abrupt roadblock between us.
“Grayson, we can’t—this isn’t right,” I panted out, lips reluctantly breaking away, palms pinned to his majestic pecs. “You’re engaged and I don’t think—”
“I’m notengaged.” Grayson took a step back as though I’d slapped him across the face with a sack of bricks. “There will never be anything between me and The Dragon. I won’t be forced to marry a woman I loathe.”
“AndIwon’t allow myself to fall for a man who may someday be forced to make a choice between me and his regal duty.”
A dust storm of silence engulfed the room and for what felt like minutes, neither of us voiced a single word. We only stood there—well actually, Grayson paced while I stayed poised against the edge of my desk—until the dark cloud of raw emotions dissipated.
“Arabella.” He advanced toward me, caution guiding his determined, long-legged stride. “It will never come to that, I promise.” Strong hands cupped my face while a pair of true-blue eyes bored into mine. “Please, give me a chance.”
Mama used to say: your gut always knows what your head is too bullheaded to figure out.
It was my gut that knew Grayson would never hurt me. Not the way Parker Jones did. My head, on the other hand, kept spinning in a tornado of foreboding hesitation, certain his situation with The Dragon wasn’t at all interchangeable.
Trust. Your. Gut.
“How about a compromise?”
Grayson’s mouth curved up, his nose nudging mine. “Okay, what sort of a compromise?”
“Let’s say we take things slow.Reallyslow.”
“And by really slow you mean…” he trailed off, thumb stroking my lower lip.
“Friends.”
He scoffed, hands careening from my face down to around my waist. “Friends. Seriously?”
“Friendswill allow us time to properly get to know each other while you work out everything regarding your sovereign expectations.”
The proposition made perfect sense to me, so long as the two of us could keep our budding attraction in check.
Excuse me, but I just witnessed your porno-grade kiss so, yeah…keeping that attraction in check will be close to impossible.
