I want that more than anything.
When she's finally finished, she slides off the piano and picks up the phone. Putting it against her ear, she doesn't speak. I hear her breath, short gasps as she comes down from her orgasm. “You never said it,” I tell her.
“Said what?”
"Please."
“I already told you,” she says. “I’m not going to beg.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Belle
It’s the big night – the night of my mother and King Leopold’s engagement party. Next week, we’ll head north to the summer estate, where we’ll be shielded from much of the media flurry that will inevitably follow the official engagement announcement.
We’ll go to the summerhouse.
Suddenly, I’m including myself in the future royal plans, as if I'm staying for the summer.
Who am I kidding? Last night, I fingered myself in the music room while Albie watched. Even from where he stood, through a window and an entire floor higher, I could see he was hard as a rock watching me, a very large bulge in his pants.
Of course I'm going to stay for the summer.
I'm not thinking clearly right now, obviously. My rational mind is clouded by unruly desire, my ability to think clearly diminished by my lust for my stepbrother. I'm not rational at all, not anymore.
But that doesn't mean I want to give in to his demand – to beg him to fuck me.
Even though every part of me is begging for it, lusting for it.
"You look…well, good enough to eat."
The voice is deep, sultry, soft – so soft that I'm the only one who can hear. At least, I hope so, anyway. I whirl around, or try to, but Albie’s hand is on my waist, guiding me around the corner, and down a service hallway of outside the main ballroom where the engagement party is being held.
"Albie, what are you doing?" I hiss, pushing against him, but he holds my arm, his lips near my ears.
"We only have a second," he whispers from behind me. The service entrance is empty, but anyone could walk through at any moment. I should be terrified of that – terrified of the possible repercussions, of the potential public embarrassment.
Instead, a surge of adrenaline rushes through me, a secret thrill at Albie's hands on me. The heat from his body radiates onto mine, and every cell in my body is on high-alert, acutely sensitive to him, aware of his every breath.
"We need to go to the engagement party, Your Highness," I say.
"Spread your legs."
"Excuse me?" I must be hallucinating, driven mad with lust. He did not just tell me to spread my legs right here in the hallway within twenty yards of the ballroom where our parents -- the King and Future Queen of Protrovia – together with everyone who's everyone in this country, are celebrating their upcoming nuptials. Because that would be insane.
"You heard me, luv," he whispers. "Don't think. Just do it."
But Heaven help me, that's exactly what I do.
I stand here, in my ridiculously expensive designer cocktail dress, with my stepbrother's arm around my chest, pulling me tightly back against him, and I spread my legs.
"And?" I ask, provoking him. My heart pounds loudly against his arm, and he fumbles with something.
"I have a present for you," he says, slipping his hand between my legs from where he stands behind me. A sensation of something cold makes me jump.
"What the hell, Albie?" I yelp.
"This is your present," he whispers. "I sent it to you in your box. I borrowed it back."
The box he sent me with the sex toys.
"You are not touching me right here, right now, with one of those things," I hiss.
“It’s unfortunate you say that,” he says. “I guess I’ll have to take it back.” I feel a light vibration flick on, sending a tingle through my core, and then it stops as quickly as it starts.
He’s teasing me. Taunting me.
He knows I’m wet, just as soon as he touches me.
“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t take it back.”
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“I can’t believe I’m considering this,” I whisper.
"Make your choice, luv. One of the caterers or the staff is going to walk out of that entrance any second now," he whispers, his breath hot on my ear. "You don't want them to see you with your stepbrother's hand up your skirt, do you?"
I shake my head. "No."
He flicks the vibrator on again, and the sensation sends arousal rushing through me. "Then spread your legs, Princess," he says. "Because I'm not playing around anymore. Say yes."
"You're going to send me out there with that inside me?" I ask.
“Most definitely,” he says. “Say the word, luv. The word is yes.”