Feisty Princess (Sexy Manhattan Fairytale #2) (9 page)

“How can you be so sure?” he asks. “Maybe we better practice a couple of kisses just to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t feel like getting smacked in the middle of a party if I do something to offend you. I need to know what your limits are.”

I level my stare on him. “You’re really asking me to kiss you right now?”

He licks his lips and then beckons me with the crook of his finger. “Come here.”

As ridiculous as this idea seems, he might just have a point based on our history. When we touch, crazy things happen. Setting boundaries between us is a good idea.

I sigh and then slide over toward him. Alexander’s eyes trail down my body, taking a moment to stare at my chest. This low-cut Prada dress accentuates my breasts nicely, so I can’t fault him for his lingering gaze.

He tilts his head and then places his hand on the bare skin of my thigh. “Will doing this get me smacked?”

My heart thunders inside my chest. The heat from the contact of his skin on mine is sending my body into overdrive.

“No,” I tell him with a breathy tone. “But if you go any higher than that, it might.”

“Noted.” He arches one eyebrow. “How about this?” He moves his hand from my thigh and then cups my cheek. The pad of his thumb swirls around my skin before it dips lower to brush the corner of my mouth.

My mouth drifts open, and I close my eyes as he traces my lower lip with his thumb. An ache between my legs builds. It’s crazy how my body reacts so quickly with one simple touch from this man.

I don’t even realize he’s leaning into me until I feel his warm breath on my face. “You don’t know how badly I want to kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?” I ask, needing more of his skin on mine in that moment.

He leans his forehead against mine. “Don’t tease me like that, Margo.”

“Who’s teasing?” My hand snakes up his chest until it finds the exposed flesh on his neck. “I want you to kiss me.”

He cups my face. “What are you doing to me? Why can’t I resist you?”

I bite my lip as I gaze into his eyes. “I’ve asked myself the same thing about a million times. I’m supposed to hate you, but I can’t stop wanting you.”

That was easier to admit to him that I ever thought it would be.

Alexander sucks a rush of air in through his nose and his chest heaves. He doesn’t move away from me, only stretches his hand out and hits the intercom button, simply instructing, “Drive.”

“Where to, sir?” the driver asks.

“I don’t give a fuck where. Drive until I tell you to stop,” he orders.

The words no sooner leave his mouth than both of his hands are cradling my head, holding me in place while he crushes his lips to mine. His tongue swipes against my lips, begging for entrance while the trim whiskers on his face poke me. I moan as I open my mouth and welcome him inside.

This is wrong, but I can’t find a reason within me to stop. It feels too good—too right.

His hand slides down my neck and then sweeps across my collarbone before pushing the straps of my dress off my shoulders. “I want you, Margo. Tell me that you want me, too.”

His admission causes my blood to pump a little faster through my veins, and his need to hear my confirmation has every inch of me on fire. This man has a way of turning me on like no other, and he’s damn near impossible to resist.

I grip the collar of his crisp white tuxedo shirt and stare into his eyes as I straddle his lap. The bottom hem of my dress rides up my thighs as I press myself against the hard erection in his pants. “I need you, Alexander.”

Those simple words are all the permission that he needs. Alexander attacks my lips with his once again, while his hands work frantically to get me out of this dress. The need to have him inside me to stop my building ache is intense. I lift my bottom a bit to gain access to his belt. When that’s out of the way, I make quick work of unzipping his pants and reaching inside his underwear. He lifts his hips, allowing me to shove the fabric down. I take his cock into my hand. The skin of his shaft is silky as I stroke his considerable length.

Alexander watches me carefully under his long lashes as he reaches between my legs and strokes my clit through the material of my underwear. “These panties are soaked. I love that you get that way for me. Tell me, Margo. When you pleasure yourself, do you think of me?”

My chest heaves as Alexander pushes my panties to the side and slides his finger against my most sensitive flesh. If he keeps this up, I might explode.

“Oh, God.” I throw my head back and allow his naughty words to ring through my mind as I enjoy his touch.

“Do you think of this, Margo? Do you long for it? Do you touch yourself and wish it was me?”

I bite my bottom lip while I curl my fingers around his cock. I can’t concentrate on anything but my own pleasure and the way he’s making me feel. He has me so turned on I can’t see straight.

“I’ve missed this.” He leans in and licks the soft skin just below my ear. “When I don’t have you, I’m dreaming of fucking you, tasting your lips, and hearing you scream my name while you come all over my tongue.”

Fire pools in the pit of my belly. I lean in and kiss him before moaning into his mouth. “Alexander . . .”

“Tell me, Margo. Do you want me inside you?” he murmurs.

“Yesss,” I hiss.

He moves his hand, leaving my underwear pushed to the side and then pulls me back on top of him. The warmth of his cock against my clit feels so damn good. I rock against him a few times, coating him with my desire and allowing our skin to slide together with ease.

Alexander goes to work, trying to undo the zipper in the back of my dress. He curses when it sticks halfway down and then tugs roughly on the dress, losing all patience with taking his time in getting me naked.

The distinct sound of the fabric ripping causes my head to snap up. “My dress!”

Panic shoots through me, knowing I won’t be able to go into the gala like this.

Alexander threads his fingers through my hair and locks me into place. The tip of his nose traces my jawline, breathing me in as he continues his deliciously slow torture of teasing me.

“I’ll buy you a fucking new one. Don’t you dare stop,” he growls in my ear.

I do exactly as he commands and continue rocking my hips. He shoves the torn fabric down, allowing it to pool around my hips. His patience with my underwear seems to be gone too because he reaches under my dress and rips them away from my body.

The index finger of his right hand dips into the cup of my bra. It twirls around my nipple before moving on to the next. He bites his lip as he pushes the cups of my strapless bra down, fully exposing my breasts. His tongue darts out and licks the taut pink flesh before he sucks the entire thing into his mouth.

Every nerve in my body comes to life, and I thread my fingers into his thick, dark hair. I rock against him, needing to feel him inside me. “I’m so ready.”

Alexander grips my hips, steadying me against him. “I want to feel you, Margo. I want to come inside you this time.”

My mind drifts back to the time when we had sex against the door in Vegas and how amazing that felt. That also reminds me this is the second dress he’s ruined during sex. He’s technically my husband and I’m on birth control, so I don’t see the harm in it just this once.

I nod as I play with a strand of his hair that’s poking out in the back. “Okay.”

He leans in and presses his lips to mine as he shifts his hips and his cock presses against my entrance. A quick thrust of his hips and he slips his dick inside me all the way up to the base.

His mouth drifts open, and he stares up at me with lust-coated eyes as he works my hips in a slow rhythm. “Fuck. So damn amazing.”

We rock in time, both getting lost in our own desire—both searching for our own release.

Watching him as he enjoys my body is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. I like knowing that I can cause the asshole control freak, Alexander King, to lose all control. It’s powerful and liberating and makes me feel downright sexy.

It doesn’t take long before that familiar tingle overtakes every inch of my being. “Oh, that’s it,” I pant. “Oh, God. Alexander, I’m coming.”

No sooner do the words leave my lips do I fall apart, giving in to the wave of pleasure that Alexander’s given me.

He tightens his grip on my hips and works them faster and faster until he’s biting his lip and sweat beads on his forehead. We lock eyes and a low growl escapes his lips as he explodes inside me, filling me full with his desire.

We stay wrapped in one another’s arms, staring into each other’s eyes as we try to catch our breath. I don’t know what just happened, but this sexual encounter with him felt different—more intimate—and it feels like everything is about to change.

Margo

AFTER A CHANGE OF CLOTHES
at Alexander’s apartment, I’m heading back down the stairs. Hopefully, we make it to the event this time. I glance at my phone before dropping it into my clutch. We’re running extremely late.

When I meet Alexander in the foyer, he takes my hand. The warmth of his fingers curled around mine feels so intimate. I’m not sure what in the hell happened between us back in that limo, but it’s more apparent to me now that keeping things strictly business between the two of us is impossible. Something just happens when we’re together. There’s a pull—a connection—I don’t understand, and I’m pretty sure Alexander feels it, too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to end up married to me, causing himself a whole lot of grief in the process. He’s too smart for that, which is how I know the brain behind that beautiful face of his isn’t making the decisions when it comes to me.

I glance down at our hands as we make our way outside to the waiting limo. I’m tempted to ask him if he’s merely pretending to show me public affection for the benefit of anyone who’s watching or if he’s holding my hand because he wants to, but I won’t. I don’t want to know the answer. If he claims it’s just an act, it might hurt.

Inside the limo, I expect for Alexander to pull away from me, but he doesn’t. We ride to the gala side by side, still holding hands like a happily married couple.

As we pull up to the building the party is being held in, Alexander turns his head toward me while wearing a devilish smirk. “You ready to try this again, or are you ready for round two?”

A blush creeps over my cheeks. As much as I would love nothing more than to go another round with him, I know there’s simply no time for that. Tonight is all about convincing the board members of King Corporation that Alexander is more than capable of running the empire his father left behind.

“As much as I’d like that, we have a job to do,” I tell him. “But I’ll take a rain check on that second round.”

Alexander’s smile widens. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make your battery operated boyfriend jealous.”

I chuckle at his reference to my vibrator. “Don’t worry. B.O.B. only wants to see me satisfied. He’s probably enjoying the vacation.”

“Bob might have to go. You know I’m a jealous man. I don’t share, especially when it comes to you.” He reaches over and slides one hand between my legs and then brushes my panty-covered folds with his thumb. “And this pussy is all mine.”

His words cause me to shiver. Never have I been claimed like this before, and I have to admit, it’s a fucking turn-on.

“Tonight, I want you in my bed.”Alexander leans in and brushes my lips with his. “But first, we have a little business to handle inside. Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

A few lingering paparazzi snap photos of Alexander and me as we step out of the car—all of them clamoring for a shot of us to put in the society gossip columns.

“Mr. King, is it true that the two of you are married?” one heavyset, balding man with a camera shouts, but Alexander doesn’t even bother to glance in his direction.

Sure, I’ve been in the society papers before, but no one has ever been desperate to know so much about my personal life. It’s weird that people would even care, but things are different for Alexander. He’s been on the public radar since he was named youngest billionaire in the world ten years ago when he inherited his father’s company. People are fascinated by handsome young men who are extremely wealthy.

Alexander reminds tight-lipped until we make it inside the building. “I’m sure we’re going to get a lot of that until the shock over our marriage dies down. As soon as they find another big story to cover, they’ll forget about us.” He extends his elbow to me, and I loop my arm through his. “Come on. Let’s get this ass-kissing over with. The sooner we can get away from these pretentious assholes, the better.”

I can’t help but laugh. His blunt vocabulary is actually comical when I’m not pissed at him for talking to me that way.

The ballroom is alive with Manhattan’s upper-crust society, milling about in their small cliques. A jazz band plays in the corner and a few couples are dancing while everyone else lingers about gossiping or discussing business ventures. A few heads turn in our direction, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that I’m clinging to Alexander’s arm.

The men in the room nod as if approving Alexander’s choice of arm candy for the night, but the women are a completely different story. Their expressions range from pity to contempt. I’m guessing the ones who look like they want to punch me in the face are women Alexander has slept with and aren’t quite over him yet.