Page 52 of The Prince and the Bodyguard
Eddie’s cheeks flushed pink, but he met my eyes steadily. “That’s excellent news because if you had counted on me getting them, we would never get anywhere. I’m afraid I don’t have the constitution for embarrassing transactions like that.”
The image of Eddie, all proper British politeness, buying condoms and lube made me grin despite my nerves. “I would love to see that someday.”
“As you Americans would say: in your dreams, buddy.”
He actually pulled off an American accent, which made it even more funny. But I wanted to get this show on the road. “I do, however, have those in my room, so give me a moment while I grab them, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
Eddie looked down at himself, naked as a bird. “I can assure you I shall remain where I am.”
I laughed all the way to my bedroom and back. He had such a dry sense of humor, so very different from my own but so funny. When I got back, he literally hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Tada!” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Still here.”
Grinning, I upended the paper bag, which held condoms, lube, and even some wet wipes for cleanup.
Eddie quirked an eyebrow. “You did come prepared. Were you in the Boy Scouts?”
“Ha! I was, actually, but it’s also a Marine thing. We’re always prepared for the worst.”
“One can only hope this won’t be the worst, but if so, at least we’ll have wipes.”
“Good thing one of us is a planner.” I set everything within easy reach on the nightstand, then turned back to Eddie, who was watching me with an expression that was equal parts nervousness and anticipation. “Come here.”
Eddie moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, could see the way his pulse fluttered at the base of his throat. I cupped his face in my hands, brushing my thumbs across his cheekbones.
“We don’t have to rush this,” I said quietly. “We’ve got all night, all the time in the world. If something doesn’t feel good, you tell me. If you want to stop, we stop. No questions, no arguments.”
“I don’t want to stop. I want this. With you.”
The simple honesty in his words made something itch inside me, like my skin was suddenly too tight. I kissed him again, slow and thorough, trying to communicate everything I couldn’t quite put into words yet. How much he meant to me, how grateful I was that he’d chosen me for this, how determined I was to make this good for him, even if I had no idea what I was doing.
When I reached for the lube, my hands were steadier than I’d expected. Military training, maybe—focus on the mission, execute with precision. The mission here was making Eddie feel good, making this experience something he’d remember with pleasure rather than pain.
“This might feel strange at first,” I said, warming the gel between my fingers. “Just breathe, okay? And tell me how it feels.”
Eddie nodded, trust written across every line of his face as he settled back against the pillows. I started slowly, simply rubbing my slick fingers against his hole until I felt him relax. In a way, I had expected this part to feel awkward or even slightly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. Instead, I almost felt honored that he trusted me this much, that I was allowed to do this, to get him ready for what we wanted to share.
My finger slipped in, and I halted. “Okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve… I’ve played with myself there. I’m good with this.”
That might be so, but I still kept a close eye on him as I proceeded working him open, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. He tensed from time to time, but a few seconds pause or a small word of encouragement from me helped him relax quickly enough.
He was braver than I’d anticipated, opening up to me, relaxing little by little as we found our rhythm together. His breaths came in short, eager bursts, eyes half-shut not in pain but concentration. I tried a second finger, easing in slow as honey, and he shifted his hips to meet me, body learning my touch almost as quickly as I could discover him.
“Feel weird?” I asked, voice husky even to my own ears.
Eddie licked his lips. “Weird, yes, but not bad. It’s… Bloody hell, Bash, no one ever tells you how… exposed it feels, but not in a negative way.” He gave a shaky laugh. “I should be more articulate, but you’re not making it easy.”
I laughed, feeling my nerves unwind like a tightly coiled spring finally let loose. “You’re doing fine.” I leaned down, kissed his neck, his jaw, the spot under his ear that made him shiver. “Tell me if you want more.”
He swallowed, then nodded. “I do. More, please.”
His voice was desperate but so damn polite, I had to stifle a laugh. “Roger that.”
I kept moving, careful but deliberate. I added a third finger, slower this time, letting him get used to it. There were moments his breath went sharp, but each time I paused or stroked his hip, he steadied, and it felt like we were running a relay race—baton passing back and forth, giving each other strength to keep moving.
I didn’t know if I was doing it right. I was half-following the rhythm of his breaths, half the advice of a dozen Internet strangers and a couple of sex-ed books. But there was a moment when I curved my finger just so and Eddie’s eyes went huge, his mouth popping open in a silent gasp. That felt, in a word, like winning.
