Royally Matched(61)
And I want to be that man for her.
“But, I’m bound to two more weeks of filming. I’ve given them my word and I speak for the House of Pembrook.”
I feel her nod. “That’s not a small thing.”
I look into her eyes. “I don’t want to keep filming. You know that, don’t you?”
Sarah sighs, and her expression is so open, so damn trusting. It humbles me.
“I do, yes.”
“If I could, I’d stay right here in this bed with you. Do you believe that?”
“Yes. But you can’t.”
“No. I can’t.”
What a shit-show. And it’s all my own stupid doing.
Where the fuck is that mace?
“The other girls, Henry . . . you won’t touch them?” she stiffens against me. “Not like this. I won’t put up with that.”
“No, of course not. I’ll barely look at them, I swear. All my touches—my hands, my lips, my cock—they all belong to you now, sweet Sarah.”
She grins. “That’s good to know.”
But then her eyes narrow. “Have you touched them? Like this?”
I chuckle at the thread of jealousy in her tone.
“No. I’m practically a monk. It seems fate has been conspiring from the very beginning for us to end up right here.”
“Good.”
Wanting to make sure we’re clear, so there are no misunderstandings, I reiterate, “So I’ll do what I have to do, go through the motions, honor my commitment for the next two weeks. But we’ll have this, here in this room; we’ll be together. Yeah?”
She gives me a nod and I want to sigh with relief.
“Yes.”
Now that that’s out of the way, I lean forward and kiss her again, sliding my tongue against hers. She presses back eagerly, honest and so damn perfect. My lips trail up her jaw to her ear and she shivers against me.
“I want to make you come again, Sarah.”
She nips at my earlobe. “Yes, please.”
And I laugh. “So polite.”
Then there’s no more talking. There’s only moaning, and gasping and writhing and coming. Until, much later, exhausted and spent, we both fall asleep.
THE NEXT MORNING, I wake with my nose buried in the soft skin of a fragrant neck and strands of hair tickling my face. I give Sarah a squeeze and nip at her shoulder, but she just moans sleepily.
Poor thing—I kept her up very late, doing very, very bad things.
And I can’t stop bloody smiling about it.
I slip out from under the covers, shower and get dressed. It’s a location shot today; Laura and I will be hiking all day. Before I leave, I kneel beside the bed and brush back Sarah’s hair, then run my hand up and down her arm, until eventually her long lashes blink and her eyes open.
She inhales. “Henry? What time is it?”
“Early. You can go back to sleep. I just didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. How are you feeling, sweets?”
I’ve never been with a virgin. And while last night wasn’t the big “first time” for Sarah, it was a lot of little firsts. As the experienced one, I want to make sure she’s all right with that.
She stretches and the sheet falls down, exposing her elegant neck and perfect tits—my mouth goes dry and my head goes blank.
“I feel . . . hungover,” she says. “Drained.” And then she smiles naughtily. “And randy. I think you’ve created a monster, Your Highness.”
My head drops to the bed with a thud. Why am I leaving this room again? Oh, that’s right, my dick reminds me—because I’m a double damned fool.
“Hold that thought.” I kiss her, quick and playful. “And don’t move from this spot. We’ll pick up right here when I get back to you tonight.”
IT’S A GLORIOUSLY INDULGENT DAY. After Henry leaves, I fall right back to sleep and don’t wake until noon. Penny comes to check on me, to makes sure I’m all right after last night. She explains that Lancaster was tossed out after Henry beat him to a bloody pulp. I’m not usually a vengeful person but in this case, I’ll make an exception.
Penelope also says that Elizabeth is leaving with Sam this morning. She wanted to stay, to go through the motions, like Henry said—for the sake of the show—but Sam put his foot down.
“Good for them,” Penny says, and I agree.
After she leaves, I shower and dress and grab a quick bite at the food service table and then head straight back upstairs, to be lazy. I lie in the nook and read, resting my forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane, but my mind keeps wandering from the story back to what Henry and I did last night.
Now I see what all the fuss is about.