The Princess Affair (20 page)

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Authors: Nell Stark

BOOK: The Princess Affair
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“There!” she gasped as Kerry dragged her lips over a particularly sensitive spot. “There, oh yes, there—”

Her mind dissolved into a blizzard of sensation. Dimly, she heard herself sobbing for breath. As the pleasure slowly ebbed, Kerry’s tongue grew softer against her. Still shuddering, she gradually relaxed into the tender strokes.

And then Kerry slid one finger deep inside her body. Sasha cried out as her back arched helplessly, every nerve jangling. Struggling to open her eyes, she shook her head.

“Too much. I can’t.”

Kerry kissed her inner thigh. “Shh. You can. Relax and let me touch you.”

Her mouth returned, gentle as a butterfly’s touch, playing counterpoint to the slow glide of her finger. The pleasure rose slowly this time, layer building upon layer like the tuning of a symphony. Sasha gave herself over to the gradual crescendo, head moving restlessly back and forth against the pillow. When the strands of ecstasy finally coalesced and released deep inside, light and warmth spread through her body like ripples on the surface of a lake.

“Beautiful.” She heard the word from far, far away. “So beautiful.”

For a time, she floated somewhere between consciousness and a dream. Dimly, she was aware of Kerry sliding into place beside her and pulling the covers over them both. With an effort, she turned and buried her face in Kerry’s neck, inhaling deeply. Strong arms enfolded her, pulling her even closer, melding their bodies together.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that she finally knew the meaning of contentment.

Chapter Twelve
 

Kerry’s internal alarm woke her faithfully at six o’clock, as it had every morning since she’d adjusted to Greenwich Mean Time, but this day could not have been more different from its predecessors. Her eyes opened to the sight of Sasha’s smooth, pale shoulder, mere inches from her lips. Her arm encircled Sasha’s waist, palm possessively cradling her breast. Inhaling deeply, she caught the faint scent of lilac, and she was overwhelmed by visceral memories of the night before.

Sasha above her, inside her, beneath her. Her fierce commands and sensual pleas. The intoxicating sweetness of her skin.

Kerry’s fingers flexed involuntarily and Sasha murmured in her sleep. Desire spiraled through her as she felt Sasha’s nipple harden against her palm. Not wanting her restlessness to wake the sleeping princess, she slowly eased herself out of the bed and stole into the bathroom. Bracing her arms on the sink, she examined her own reflection.

Her hair was a bit more tousled than usual, but otherwise she looked no different. How strange, to feel utterly transformed inside and yet see no external evidence. Closing her eyes, she retraced the night with her mind—every sound, every touch, every taste. What did it mean that she had never felt more
herself
than in those moments of intimate joining with Sasha? Her skin ached, and suddenly she couldn’t bear the closed door standing between them.

After brushing her teeth and doing her best to flatten her rowdy hair, Kerry padded back into the room. Far too restive to fall back asleep, she could at least indulge her need to be close to Sasha by doing some reading while watching over her slumber. But as she bent to grab a book from her bag, the sound of rustling fabric reached her ears.

“Kerry?”

She turned to the sight of Sasha, propped up on one elbow, blinking sleepily. The sheet just barely covered her breasts, and one shapely calf lay outside the nest of blankets. Kerry’s heart stuttered and she abandoned her book without a second thought.

“Good morning.” She perched lightly on the edge of the bed and dared to comb two fingers through the long, dark locks spilling artfully onto the white coverlet. “It’s early still. You should go back to sleep.”

Sasha reached for her hand. “Lie down with me.”

“I’m not sure I can—”

“Just for a few minutes. Please?”

Helpless to resist, Kerry let Sasha draw her down onto the mattress. Immediately, Sasha snuggled into Kerry’s side and threw one leg over her abdomen.

“Mm,” she purred. “You smell good.”

Within moments, she had fallen back to sleep. Kerry lay quietly, still gently stroking Sasha’s hair and enjoying the pressure of Sasha’s leg against her thighs. She felt anchored. Wanted. At peace. Always on the go, she suddenly didn’t want to move a single muscle. Lassitude settled over her limbs and she closed her eyes, giving in to the unfamiliar desire to rest.

Her next conscious sensation was the slow movement of fingertips over her scalp. As their pressure increased, Kerry couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure.

“Don’t open your eyes,” Sasha whispered from above. “Just feel me.”

As the massage went on and on, Sasha’s fingers moved down the nape of her neck until she dug her thumbs into the knots on either side of Kerry’s spinal column. Miraculously, Kerry felt the ever-present tension in her shoulders begin to ease under that firm, soothing touch. Sure hands smoothed out her bunched muscles until she felt as though she were floating gently atop a becalmed sea.

When Sasha’s touch finally retreated, Kerry’s eyes fluttered open. She was lying on her stomach, cheek pressed to the soft white pillow. The room was bathed in bright sunlight, and as she rolled over onto her back, Sasha stretched out beside her.

“Hello again.” Sasha leaned in close, pressing her breasts against Kerry’s side.

“I fell back asleep. I never do that.”

She skimmed her fingertips down the center of Kerry’s chest. “I feel proud.”

Kerry reached up to stroke Sasha’s cheek. “You should. And thank you for that massage. It was lovely.”

Sasha bent to kiss her—a light, lingering kiss that only left Kerry craving more. Wrapping one arm around Sasha’s shoulders, she pulled her on top, snugging Sasha’s pelvis into the hollow of her hips.

“Better.”

Sasha nipped at Kerry’s chin. “You feel incredible.”

“I do.” Kerry saw no sense in denying it. She didn’t want to move back—only forward. “You’re a remarkable lover.”

Her eyes darkened. “I think that’s my line. When you let go, you are simply magnificent.”

Kerry felt her face heat. She didn’t know what to say. Emotion churned sluggishly in her depths, dimly-realized and somehow frightening. She didn’t want it to feel like falling. Not yet.

“So tell me,” she said, running her fingertips lightly down Sasha’s back. “What’s on today’s agenda?”

Sasha rested her chin on Kerry’s breastbone. “In a few moments, I’ll let you up so you can experience your first Irish breakfast. Then, we’ll drive to Killarney, where we’ll be spending the remainder of the weekend.”

“I can’t wait. This trip has already exceeded my wildest dreams, and it’s barely even begun.”

“Good.”

Sasha leaned forward to kiss first her left nipple, then her right. Suddenly throbbing, Kerry felt her stomach contract as her vision went hazy.

“So responsive,” Sasha murmured. “If I weren’t so eager to show you your native land, I might never let you out of this bed.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” Kerry gasped, but Sasha was already rolling off to one side. She swatted playfully at Kerry’s thigh as her feet hit the hardwood floor.

“Come on now, lazybones.”

Indignant, Kerry sprang out of the bed, but before she could retaliate, Sasha had disappeared into the bathroom, silvery laughter echoing behind her.

 

*

 

The wind ruffled Kerry’s hair as she rounded a sharp curve in the trail, bringing with it the scent of honeysuckle and loam. A few feet ahead, Sasha was gesturing to a large boulder just off the path. Dressed in hip-hugging jeans and her UConn sweatshirt, its hood helping to hold the wig in place despite the crisp breeze, she looked fashionably athletic and entirely carefree.

“Shall we sit for a spell?”

At first, her words didn’t register. Sasha was beautiful all the time, but Kerry preferred this flushed, fully human version to the highly coiffed façade she presented to the media. As she joined her, Kerry traced a loose wisp of her faux hair. Sasha stuck out her tongue.

“I’ve never worn it so many days in a row. It’s starting to itch.”

“Well, do you think you might be able to do without it for the rest of the trip? Have you seen any sign of photographers?”

“None whatsoever.” Sasha sipped from her water bottle and glanced around the small clearing. “Maybe I will take it off, and just keep the hood up.”

Kerry watched, entranced, as she whisked the wig off her head and shook out her long, dark tresses. Fingertips itching, she drank deeply from her own water as Sasha stowed the hairpiece in her backpack.

“That feels fantastic,” she said. “As does this climb. Much more satisfying than those bloody stair machines in the gym.”

Kerry laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

After arriving at their hotel in Killarney, Sasha had laid out the plan for the afternoon: a tour of the nineteenth century Muckross House—a product of famous Scottish architect William Burns—followed by a trip to Torc Waterfall and a hike up to the top of Torc Mountain. It was the perfect way to spend a beautiful autumn day, and Kerry was touched by the forethought Sasha had put into their itinerary.

Sasha capped her bottle and stood. “Let’s keep moving. I can’t wait to see the waterfall from the top.”

Thoroughly charmed by her enthusiasm, Kerry followed closely behind her as she set a brisk pace up the remaining ascent. Soon, the surrounding forest gave way to a grassy, rock-strewn slope. Ahead, a stone cairn marked the summit. As they approached it, the ambient roar of the waterfall resolved into clear splashing sounds.

Sasha halted next to the cairn and spun in a slow circle. “Spectacular.”

“You are,” Kerry said, softly enough that any nearby tourists wouldn’t overhear. “It’s true.”

Sasha rolled her eyes, but the hint of a smile at her lips betrayed her pleasure. “Not me, you dolt. This view.”

Wrenching her gaze away from Sasha, Kerry finally surveyed the panorama before her. She had an unimpeded, three hundred and sixty degree view of the Irish countryside, and it was indeed spectacular. To the west, a lake lay nestled in the valley created by the juncture of three low mountains. To the north, the stone turrets of Muckross House gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight.

“Kerry! Come and see.” Sasha had descended a short way down the slope along a ridge that ended abruptly in a sheer cliff. It was the perfect vantage point from which to watch the water hurtle over the outcropping and drop into the deep pool far below.

Sasha reached for her hand as she approached. The falls throbbed beneath them, its power traveling up through the soles of Kerry’s feet, quickening her blood. The rich scent of the earth filled her lungs as the cool fingers of the wind stroked through her hair and the rising mist caressed her face. The land itself was embracing her, cherishing her, and Kerry suddenly felt a sense of belonging that was at once utterly foreign and yet somehow familiar.

Sasha’s grip tightened, and she looked over in concern. “You’re trembling. Are you all right?”

Kerry swallowed hard. How could she explain without sounding like a sentimental fool, especially when she hardly knew what was happening herself?

“This place,” she stammered. “It…affects me.”

Sasha’s expression softened. She looked around quickly before leaning in close, her lips grazing Kerry’s ear. “Welcome home.”

Kerry pulled back just enough to see her eyes. They were the same shade of green as the surrounding fields, and for one insane moment, she very nearly blurted the revelation aloud. Behind them, a shrill chorus of young voices echoed from the rocks. Sasha released her hand and stepped away. The spell of the land died as suddenly as it had risen. In the next moment, children were swarming over the summit, laughing and shouting—a school group, by the looks of their identical uniforms.

“Shall we go back?” Sasha asked, watching them with bemusement.

“All right.” Kerry worked to keep her voice light. She couldn’t help but be disappointed by Sasha’s withdrawal, but what else could she expect? This entire trip was clandestine, and not only because of her gender. Even the straight royals often tried to hide their romantic involvements from the world for as long as possible. All other obstacles aside, did she really want the kind of media attention that would accompany being Sasha’s “official” girlfriend?

By the time they returned to the trailhead, Kerry had managed to reason herself into a happier mental space. They had a full day and a half left together and much more exploring to do. She wanted to appreciate this trip for what it was, not what it wasn’t. Sasha had put a great deal of time, effort, and money into making one of Kerry’s lifelong dreams come true. The last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful.

Sasha rested her palm on Kerry’s knee as they pulled out of the parking lot. Behind them, the underbellies of the clouds were just beginning to smolder as the sun began its descent behind the mountains.

“Did you enjoy that?”

“Very much.” With one finger, Kerry traced aimless patterns along the back of Sasha’s hand. “Thank you for an incredible day.”

“It isn’t over yet. We have dinner reservations in town, and then I thought we might do some dancing.”

“Oh?” Kerry’s head spun at the thought of trying to dance with Sasha in some hot, crowded, throbbing nightclub. How on earth she would manage to remain platonic, she had no idea.

“Apparently there’s a ceili—a traditional Irish dance—at a pub near our restaurant.” Sasha glanced over quickly. “Would that be fun for you?”

Kerry couldn’t hold back a laugh at just how far off her mental image had been. At the flash of hurt that crossed Sasha’s face, she hurried to explain.

“I’ve been going to ceilis since before I could walk. They’re quite popular in my hometown. And I would love nothing more than to attend one with you.” She squeezed Sasha’s fingers lightly. “If it’s anything like what I’m used to, I may even be able to lead.”

“I may even let you,” she replied archly. “Though don’t think for a moment that your lead will extend beyond the dance floor.”

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