Page 30 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
“They’rebeautycontests,” she pointed out.
“They’re contests. And you’re competitive as hell.”
“No, I’m not.” Her brows came together, perplexed.
“You don’t see it?”
“No.”
He made a noncommittal noise, not interested in arguing the point, but all he could see in his mind’s eye was her, kneeling on the beach, proving her superiority to his brother without even needing a witness to it. She hadn’t been broken when Felipe had approached her. She had thrown sand in his face and continued to fight.
Damn. Now he was back to wanting to touch her.
“Let’s dance.” He rose and held out his hand.
Claudine didn’t remember what they ate, only the way it felt to be in his arms.
If this was the seduction Felipe had promised her, it was subtle. It wasn’t what he did, but what he didn’t do that bombarded her with yearning.
His fingertips brushed the bare skin on her shoulder, but only in passing, not lingering. The shape of his mouth in her sightline filled her with curiosity to feel his lips against hers, but he denied her. The press of his hand at her hip was hot and possessive and stayed exactly where it was, no matter how she willed him to cup her breast or fondle her backside.
When the heat of his breath stirred her hair against her ear, and he asked, “Shall we skip dessert?” she was weak with longing for more. Her skin felt electric, her blood molten.
“Yes,” she said, feeling drugged.
Paparazzi had gathered outside, blinding them with their flashes as they slid into the Rolls-Royce. They were no sooner inside than they were stuck in traffic.
“An event has just let out, Your Highness. I apologize for the delay,” the driver said.
“Do your best.” Felipe said and pressed the button to close the privacy screen. “I don’t want to wait until the hotel to kiss you.Come here.”
The rough command in his voice undid her. The windows were so dark it was nearly impossible to see the lights of the city through them, so she slipped from her seat, which was as deep and luxurious as a recliner, past the wide console between them and into his lap.
With a gruff noise, he gathered her close, enclosing her in the warm cage of his embrace. His mouth settled across hers in a searing brand of heat. His tongue slid past the seam of her lips, the blatant act sending a spear of pure lust straight into the pit of her belly.
While his hands roamed all over her back and breast and hip and thigh, exactly as she had been aching for him to do, she burrowed beneath the edges of his jacket, wanting the man beneath the layers of wool and silk tie and the shirt made of a fabric with such a high thread count it felt as though he was naked beneath luxury sheets.
When she felt the release of her gown’s zipper, she drew back slightly.
“No?” He stalled his touch.
She looked to the tinted the windows, but it was so dark back here onlookers probably couldn’t even tell she was in his lap.
“No, it’s okay.”
His mouth came back to hers and the zipper went down to her lower back. She pulled her arm free of one sleeve.
“No bra. I thought not.” His head swooped and her nipple was drawn into such a cavern of heat and pull she gasped at the sharp sensation. The damp scorch sent sweet runnels of urgent desire racing to collect in her loins.
“Felipe,” she sobbed, wriggling, so acutely aroused she didn’t know how to process it.
“Did I not promise to give you pleasure,cara mia?” His voice was far from his usual cultured tone and made everything in her twist with need. “Let’s put your foot here in the cup holder.”
He guided her shoe heel to the console so she had one knee raised against his chest, the other dangling off his thigh. In a small shift, she was cradled deeper in his lap so the thick shape of his arousal pressed to the cheek of her bottom.
As his touch drew patterns along the inside of her thigh, climbing beneath her skirt, she shook. The ache in her core intensified.
“Say you want this,” he commanded softly.
