Page 53 of Stolen Princess

“I want to know what a real kiss feels like. I want to learn how to do it right.”

The asshole still isn’t moving. Am I not pretty to him? Didn’t he tell me I was? Or was that simply the lust of a man looking at a woman touching herself?

“Please,” I whisper, holding the back of his head, my fingers threading into his hair. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little challenge. What? Does kissing the innocent virgin fuck with your high moral compass?”

He smirks while his eyes search mine from centimeters away before he closes the distance and nails his lips onto mine. A moan sears from my chest, and he swallows it down, groaning as he opens his mouth and slips his tongue straight against mine. My cheek hurts with the movement, but I don’t care. This kiss is everything I imagined and more. Everything I need and then some.

His lips move mine, controlling the angle and depth while his tongue takes no prisoners. “Like this. You kiss like this.” He kisses me like my mouth is fire and he’s oxygen, and together we’re explosive. Combustible. Deadly. His hand coasts up into my hair, where he grips me by the roots. I moan and arch into him, dragging him closer. His seat belt snags, and I giggle lightly into his mouth.

He smiles and unlatches his belt so he can lean over me and deepen the exchange. I follow his lead, matching what he’s doing with his lips and tongue. “Am I doing it right?”

“So fucking right. So fucking good.”

Cars whiz past us, making the car shudder and shake, but neither of us notices. We’re mauling each other. Grabbing and pulling at clothes. Scraping teeth along jaws and nibbling on ears. It’s breathless and hot and devouring.

The windows fog, the air dense and warm.

He pulls the shoulder of my shirt down and nibbles on the flesh before he trails across my collarbone. My breath catches, and my neck goes back. My hands in his hair hold him tighter just as a knock comes on the driver’s window.

We jump apart, and I hastily pull my shirt back up my shoulder. He gives me an oh fuck look before he rolls down the window for the police officer standing on the other side. The officer eyes us both, a strong look of disapproval on his face.

“License and registration,” he growls, and Rhys tenses.

“Is there a problem, sir?” Rhys questions with his charming smile on full display. “We were just⁠—”

“The breakdown lane is for motorists with car trouble. Not a sexual free-for-all.”

I nearly choke on that one. He said it with such a straight face too.

“Sir, I can assure you⁠—”

“I said, license and registration. Now.”

Rhys throws me a side-eye that I don’t like the look of. If he hands the officer his ID and they run it through or do whatever it is they do with it, I’m assuming it’ll come out counterfeit. Rhys will get arrested, and all of this will be done. This is my fault. I started this. It’s my turn to save him.

I lean over Rhys, flip his cut-up hand over, link our fingers, and smile at the officer. “Officer… Bloom,” I say, reading his nametag. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

The officer eyes me, but he’s not growling, so I continue despite the furious looks from Rhys for me to shut up.

“You see, we just got married. Last night, in fact. Now we’re on our way to the sea for our honeymoon, but we got into a fight over ice cream. I mean, how silly is that? Anyway, Mike pulled over so we could talk it out, and I ended up kissing him.” I giggle and shrug. “We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, and we’re so sorry if we did.”

The officer slides his reflective shades down the bridge of his nose and angles in so he can see us better. “What happened to your face?” He glares at Rhys, and I’m glad I turned his hand over so the cuts aren’t visible. “Is he hurting you?”

I point to my face and laugh. “This? Oh, no. I tripped and landed face-first right into a lamppost. So ridiculous, right? I’m such a klutz.” I roll my eyes in a self-deprecating way. “Mike is the one who fixed me up.” I hold up the melting peas on my lap. “And gave me these to help with the swelling and pain.”

He squints at us.

“If you just got married, where are your rings?”

I glance down at my empty finger and lower my tone. “We can’t afford them. Not yet. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. We love each other so much, but life isn’t always easy, you know?” I look up at him and smile. “It’s something we’re planning for the future, but you don’t need a ring to love someone and promise them forever.”

That was a line from one of my romantasy books, and I think it’s a winner, because just like that, the grumpy, growly officer melts like ice cream in the heat.

“All right. I’ll let you go with a warning. No more pulling off to the side of the road unless you need assistance.”

I beam at him. “We promise, Officer. Thank you so much.”

He nods. “Have a nice rest of your day and congratulations.”