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A Virgin for His Prize(43)

By:Lucy Monroe


That wasn’t something she would ever deny. She wasn’t the one who thought it was inevitable they would one day separate.

He sure wasn’t thinking of separating right now.

He was thinking about her, his pewter gaze filled with desire for her, like she was all he could see.

With impressive strength that turned her on even more, he lifted her into his lap. Romi’s knees fell to the sides of his thighs, his hands on her bottom holding her exactly where he wanted. Her own hands landed against his chest and she perched there, her body exposed for him.

He tugged her close to rub her soft, wet intimate flesh against his imposing hardness. Her clitoris met that hard masculine column of flesh, and pleasure jolted through her. He rocked his pelvis, stimulating the bundle of nerve endings until her breath was sobbing in and out in a vain effort to keep up with the speed of her heart.

She could climax like this, too easily. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

Romi shifted with intent…Max lifted and tilted her…and then she was sliding down over him, her body once again stretching to accommodate his size. Encasing him in her most tender flesh, Romi held Max inside her, their physical connection complete.

The only sound between them their harsh breathing, hard fingers guided her hips into movement. “Come on, dorogaya. Move for me.”

She obeyed because she couldn’t do anything else, lifting and lowering her hips with jerky enthusiasm. Romi let him lead her into a rhythm that pleasured them both, bringing little bursts of ecstasy with every downward thrust of her hips and long moaning pleasure with every rise upward.

He praised her efforts until they climaxed again almost simultaneously, his rigidity and loss of control sending her over the edge into pure, unadulterated ecstasy. They froze there together in a tableau of rapture, her body slick with sweat, his pupils blown from sensation.

She didn’t know how long they were like that, but eventually, Romi let herself fall forward and he caught her. Like she knew he would.

Max cradled her close against his body, his breathing still as harsh as her own. “We forgot the condom.”

“Again,” she panted.

“The first time we did not forget.”

She didn’t quibble. She had forgotten. He’d been looking to give her what she needed the first time they made love.

“Hopefully, it will be okay. It’s the wrong time in my cycle.” Her period had just ended a couple of days ago. She shouldn’t be ovulating yet. She remembered that much from health class.

“We will be more careful.”

She nodded against his chest. “Maybe we should keep condoms around the bedroom.”

“Around the penthouse, more like.”

She grinned where he could not see her, inordinately proud of herself. He thought they would lose control in just any room at any time. From a man of his controlling temperament, that was the ultimate compliment.

“You’re pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” he asked, a smile in his own voice.

“Well, your vaunted control hasn’t been so much in evidence,” she said modestly.

He laughed and it was only as she heard the rich sound and felt it rumble in his chest did she realize how wrongly he could have taken her words, or simply how offended he could have gotten. Because control really was a thing for this man.

“You put my control to the test. That is true.”

“Does that make us very compatible or not very?” she asked, tongue in cheek, certain of the answer, not even a little bit worried.

“As if you did not know.” He tilted her head up so their gazes met. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

“I’m aware.”

“Your father spoiled you.”

“Sweet, not rotten. That’s what Dad always said. He spoiled me sweet, not rotten.”

Max’s warm smile said he might just agree with the older Grayson.



Harry Grayson called at nine and cried when he spoke to Romi, but he made a promise, too. He promised to dry out and to try to make the program work.

“I know it’s hard for you,” she offered.

He made a sound of disagreement that surprised her until the words that followed. “Not as hard as losing my daughter to my weakness would be.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“At some point watching me destroy myself would hurt too much to stay.”

His words shocked her. “No.”

“Yes.” He sighed, clearly trying to get ahold of himself. “Listen, kitten. All I’ve ever wanted for you was happiness.”

“I know.”

“You aren’t going to be happy if I kill myself slowly with bourbon, no matter how good the year.”

“Um, yeah…I could really care less how high-quality your liquor cabinet is.”