The Princess in His Bed (12 page)

His mouth watered.

He stroked his tongue down the slit of her sex. She gave a strangled cry. Her hips shot up off the table, securing her delicious sex firmly against his hungry mouth.

“Adam . . .”
His name slipped past her lips on a pant, her fingers digging into his arm resting across her belly.

He plied her with steady licks and sucks, making his way to that sweet little bud sensitized and engorged with excitement. Adam drew it into his mouth. Her sultry moans made his cock thicken further. Throb harder. He wanted her wetter and utterly wild.

He sank two fingers into her wet heat. Locating that sweet spot inside her vaginal walls, he stroked it with expert finesse, instantly inducing the rocking of her hips and the moaning of his name.

Relishing her luscious taste, he groaned, enraptured, the sound reverberating onto her sensitive sex.

“Adam!” she called to him.

Unable to pull away, he continued to tenderly torment her clit with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, as his buried fingers worked her velvety sheath. Her feminine wall quivered and clenched around his fingers.

His cock railed inside its cramped confines, his sac tight and painfully full, and still he wouldn’t pull away. This was Aimee. His Aimee. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Only when she grasped his cock and squeezed it through the cloth of his tented breeches did she yank his attention away from her sex.

He jerked his head up from between her thighs and snapped it around, his lungs laboring.

“Adam . . .” She’d released her hold of him and was trying to open his breeches. “Let me taste you, too.”

A request no hot-blooded man could deny.

Adam stripped off his justacorps, tossed it onto the table above her head, then opened his vest and breeches with the same impatient haste.

Freed, his cock strained out of his breeches toward her, greedy and eager.

She wrapped her slender fingers around the base of his shaft.

Brushing an errant lock from her cheek, he watched her lovely profile in heated fascination as she took him into her mouth. Wet heat engulfed him. Briefly, he closed his eyes and tightened his fingers in her hair. Her rhythm was slow and sublime.

He forced himself to hold still and not thrust despite the powerful urge, letting her dictate the depth, the pace. He was so hard. His prick was so full. And the sensations of her soft hot mouth advancing and retreating were stunning. Pre-come leaked from his cock.

She moaned with satisfaction, sending tiny vibrations racing up his prick, and then swirled her tongue around the engorged head, swiping the sensitive underside. He hissed out a breath from between clenched teeth. She had the perfect mouth. A natural talent for offering a man oral bliss. She made his sac ache. His knees weak. And because this was Aimee, his heart danced.
Jésus-Christ
, he had to decide what to do about his feelings for her. But not now.

Not when she had him completely ablaze.

Adam opened his eyes and met her gaze. His cock in her mouth as she gently worked it in and out, she was watching him intently, looking pleased with herself.

He swore. “You like arousing me to this fiery pitch, don’t you, Aimee?”

She pulled him from her mouth. “I do.”

“I like doing the very same to you. Would you like to come at the same time?”

“Yes!”

He smiled at her enthusiasm, despite the sexual agony he was in. “I’m going to come in your mouth,” he warned, running a finger lightly over her bottom lip. “I’m not going to pull out.”

“I don’t want you to, pull out, that is.” She squeezed his cock; a delicious jolt lanced through his sac.

Dieu
, this woman was his soul mate in every way. His connection with her was so powerful—both physically and emotionally. He wanted to spend the rest of his days bringing her pleasure.

Adam leaned over her, spread her thighs wide, and lowered his mouth straight down onto his intended target, her excited clit, enjoying her sharp gasp.

She responded in kind and sucked cock into her mouth, gliding him in and out, tearing groans from his throat. Spiking his need.

The double stimulation of his cock in her mouth and his mouth on her sex was almost more pleasure than he could bear. Driving two fingers into her snug sheath, he set a rhythm she instantly responded to. He had her trembling, her juices dripping from his fingers, her little mewls sending tingles along his cock, heightening the sensations of her sucking mouth, driving him to the edge of his control.

He yanked her up tightly against him and sucked her clit harder.

She cried out against his cock, arching hard. Her rapture rocked her, her sweet cunt contracting around his fingers.

And Adam finally let go.

He came with a blinding rush into the warm cavern of her mouth. She took everything he had, spurts of come draining from his prick went on and on until he’d emptied his cock.

Adam felt her slip him from her mouth, her breathing sharp pants.

But he didn’t stop, intent on milking more pleasure from her body. Kissing her silky inner thigh, he kept a concentrated pressure and measured strokes over that ultra-sensitive spot inside her sheath, overwhelming her with erotic sensations until he hurled her into a second orgasm, enjoying her wail of ecstasy, relenting only when she’d finally quieted.

He pressed a kiss to each soft thigh before he straightened up and gently eased his fingers from her.

Aimee closed her eyes, dragging breaths up her throat.

Her muscles were lax. Her body was sated and still. She didn’t want to move. She wanted to pull Adam near and slip into slumber in his arms.

Forcing her eyes open, she found herself captured in his gaze. He was smiling down at her looking so beautiful. Her heart swelled with a quiet joy, the likes of which she’d never known.

He tucked in his white linen shirt and closed his breeches, then held out his hand.

Placing her hand in his, she sat up. He helped her slip on her caleçons and pulled her off the table and back onto her feet. Leaning in, he kissed her, his tongue slipping past her lips, stroking the recess of her mouth.

She sighed with deep contentment.

“When I brought you in here, I didn’t intend for that to happen,” he said, breaking the kiss and nuzzling her neck. “Not that I’m complaining.” The smile in his tone brought a smile to her lips.

She laced her arms around him and snuggled close, pressing her heart to his. Words of how happy he made her feel, how much joy she derived from the simple act of walking through the gardens with him, talking with him, or just being by his side welled up in her throat.

She wrestled them back.

She was going to miss his kiss. Him. Terribly.

But she wasn’t going to embarrass herself—or him—by declaring her affections. The last time she’d declared her affections to a man, he’d all but rejected them. Marc had certainly never returned them. This was but a sexual dalliance for Adam. Not unlike many he’d had in the past, and would have in the future.

What was remarkable for her was commonplace for him.

Having removed his periwig upon entering the room, he had his dark hair tied neatly back. She threaded her fingers in it, enjoying its silky feel.

“I liked coming with you,” she said softly in his ear. The only admission she’d allow herself to make.

He pressed his lips against the curve of her shoulder. “So did I.”

“I want to come with you again, Adam . . . I want to come together with you inside me the next time.”

He lifted his head and pressed his forehead to hers. “There is nothing in this world I’d love more, but I can’t do that, Aimee. Marc had the problem. Not you. You’re perfect. More than any man could want or hope for.”

She felt a lump knot in her throat. His words slipped inside her heart. No man ever spoke to her the way he did. She doubted any other man would be as convincing to her.

“Let’s go to your rooms,” he said, a slight smile tilting his mouth. A simple sentence, but a handful of words that held the promise of decadent pleasures. Her stomach fluttered. “We cannot go to mine. It’s a tad in disarray,” he gently teased her.

His innocent comment stabbed into her conscience.

She was deceiving him, voiced so many lies—when he in turn had done nothing but conduct himself with sincerity and honesty.

But how could she tell him the truth?

What could she say? What words could she offer that wouldn’t diminish what they’d had? Soil the memory. He hadn’t spoken of a future beyond their palace stay. She wanted him at the very least to walk away with a fond memory of their affair.

She’d cherish it always.

Someone knocked at the door, startling Aimee. She jumped back out of his arms. Adam frowned.

Her hands flew to the front of her gown, quickly closing the fastenings with panicked haste.

“Who is it?” Adam called out, clearly irked by the interruption.

“Nattes?” Aimee recognized Robert’s voice, her fingers working diligently on her gown. “I need the drawings.” He tried to open the door, without success. “Why is the door locked?”

“Not now, Robert. Later.”

“
Merde
, Nattes, open the door. The King wishes to proceed with the meeting. He is free now and has summoned us to his private apartments.”

Adam swore under his breath. “All right. Just a moment.” Turning to her, he cupped her cheek just as she finished with her bodice. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She hid her disappointment behind her smile. “I understand. You must take your magnificent drawings to the King.” She smoothed a hand over her hair then her bodice. “How do I look?”

He smiled. “Beautiful. Beautifully ravished.”

She laughed. “So do you.” Her comment drew a chuckle from him.

He began buttoning his vest. She scooped up his justacorps and draped it over her arm, holding it for him as his long lean fingers finished with the long row of buttons.

“Here,” she said when he’d completed his task, running a quick hand down the knee-length coat to smooth out the wrinkles. Her fingers stroked over something hard and round that moved in the pocket. She froze.

The ring
. . .

“Thank you.” He pulled the justacorps out of her grasp and put it on.

Aimee watched helplessly as he snatched the periwig off the table, placed it back on, and strode to the door. Unlocking it, he opened it a crack. “I’ll meet you there,” she heard Adam say.

Robert pushed his way in. “What the bloody hell are you doing—” His words died on his tongue the moment he saw her standing near the table.

A smile appeared on his face immediately. “Madame de Gremont.” He bowed.

“Please, Robert, Aimee will do just fine.” She glanced at Adam’s pocket and back at Robert who, still grinning, had a knowing look in his brown eyes.

“Of course, Aimee.”

Her mind was awhirl as she tried to think of a way to get the ring out of Adam’s pocket and deal with the delicate, rather compromising situation she found herself in. It was one thing to be seen walking about the palace gardens with the man among hundreds of courtiers, quite another to be caught alone in a locked room with him.

“I was showing Aimee the drawings for the machine,” Adam offered, a frown still on his face. The look in his dark eyes gave a clear warning to Robert to choose his words carefully.

“Ah, yes, of course. And what did you think of them, Aimee?” Robert asked, being his cordial best.

“They’re very impressive.”

“Yes. I quite agree. It’s been a pleasure assisting Adam on this project,” Robert said, then to Adam, “We should gather them up and go?”

At Adam’s nod, Robert collected the drawings.

Adam was about to leave.
Think!
This could end right now. End her lies to Adam. End Louise’s torment. Every day that passed without the ring only raised Louise’s anxieties. The strain over locating the ring was beginning to take its toll on her cousin.

Holding the drawings in his hands, Robert bowed to her. “Good day, Aimee.”

“Good day.” She watched Robert stride to the door.

At the threshold he tossed out, “I’ll see you there, Nattes.” And exited.

Adam turned to her. “I’m going to be a while. I’ll see you tonight at the ball.”

She smiled and nodded. “Of course.”
Do something!
She rose up onto the balls of her feet and crushed her mouth to his in a kiss, and she slid her hands down his chest, moving over the brocade fabric of the justacorps, down past his waist, and lower still, fast approaching his lower pockets.

Adam caught her wrists at his hips and broke the kiss.

“Aimee, you keep that up, and I’m going to be hard,” he gently admonished with a smile and placed her arms down at her sides. “I’d rather not walk into a meeting with the King with a stiff cock. Now, behave . . . until tonight.” With a wink and a devilish grin on his handsome face, he turned on a heel and walked out the door.

Her heart plummeted. She was so close! She could have spared Louise another tortured night.

“Adam, wait!” He arrested his steps. She ran up to him.

His brow furrowed. “What is it,
chère
?”

Looking up at his beloved face, she wrestled with what to do. Perhaps she should tell him the truth. Perhaps it wouldn’t raise his ire, after all. He was an even-tempered, reasonable man. Perhaps he’d understand about her duplicity and simply hand over the ring. And all this would be over. Dare she risk it? God knew she wanted it to be over. So badly. The ring was right there in his pocket.

“I wanted to tell you . . .” She swallowed and grappled with her words. “Well, you see . . . I . . . rather
you . . .”
Just say it!

“Aimee, the King awaits. What is it you’re trying to say?”