The Prince and the Player

“Cal…” Setting my drink down, I push against his shoulders.

He only tightens his hold. “I’m not letting you go, so stop struggling. Now answer my question.”

My entire body is on fire. “My parents loved classic films. It’s where Ava…” Shit! “I mean, um… It’s why Ava and I became friends.”

“You have parents in common?” Another burning kiss.

“Our parents were a lot alike.”

“Interesting,” he murmurs, moving higher into my hair. My knees go liquid, and I almost collapse. “You smell delicious.”

His kisses travel to my jaw. Somehow I manage to bend my elbows and push myself out of his arms.

“Seriously, Cal, we’re not doing this.”

“Why the devil not? We did a damn good job of it last night.”

“I’d had too much champagne last night.”

His hazel eyes flash. “I’m calling bullshit on that, Miss Benedict, you were not drunk last night.”

I start to walk away, but he’s right behind me, catching my arm. “Wait. I’m sorry. Don’t go. Let’s talk some more.”

It’s a mistake. I know it with every fiber of my being, but I don’t leave. “It’s really beautiful here. I love the water.”

“We can walk down to the shore and look for ghost crabs,” he says, sliding my hair off my cheek with his finger. “If you twist your ankle, I’ll carry you this time.”

“Cal—” My argument is lost in his mouth covering mine.

He kisses me the way he always does, passionate and consuming. Our lips part, his tongue finds mine, and heat floods my core. Warm hands slide over my bare back, dipping lower, into the back of my dress. I push my fingers into his hair and pull him closer to me. Oh, god, I should stop this, but I want it so much.

“I love this dress,” he murmurs against my cheek, and pleasure snakes up my thighs along with his fingers.

He’s lifting my skirt, making his way to the center. I hold my breath, waiting for him to discover…

“Fuck me,” he hisses, and our eyes lock. That naughty grin splits his cheeks. “Somebody forgot her panties tonight.”

Laughter explodes from my lips, and I drop my forehead against his shoulder. “Oh my god,” I groan as his finger slides over my clit, making me jump. “Oh, god, Cal.” I’m not arguing anymore, I’m begging.

“You don’t have to beg, beautiful, I’ll make you come.” Husky words, lost in our mouths as he kisses me again, deeper, taking what he wants. It’s what we both want.

Instinctively, my knee rises, allowing my skirt to go higher on my legs. Cal never stops touching me, sliding his fingers rapidly over that rigid little button until my thighs begin to tremble.

A strangled moan is lost in his mouth. He rotates his hand and plunges two thick fingers deep inside me, while still massaging my clit. My grip tightens on his arms, my nails cut into the fabric of his coat as I start to come.

“Oh, god… Oh, Oh, Cal!” I’m gasping, shamelessly riding his hand.

“Yes, fuck it out, sexy.” His voice is hot in my ear, his lips touching the skin just behind it. Chills fly down my arms, and the muscles deep in my core spasm again. “Damn, I wish my dick were in there.”

“Cal,” I whisper. He’s so dirty. Who knew I’d be so turned on by his wicked mouth?

“What do you want, sexy?” His face hovers over mine. My eyes are still closed, and through the haze, I feel him kiss them gently. He kisses my nose. “You want more?”

Hell, yes, I want more. Blinking up at him, I can’t say it. He’s so fucking gorgeous here in the moonlight. I’m slowly coming down. My breath is becoming calmer, and all I want is him. I want all of him.

“What am I going to do?” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but too late.

“You’re going to come with me across the street to the Paris Hotel,