“What are you going to do to me now?” she murmured. This was so much better than the letters.
His eyes went dark and hot. He dipped his head, ravished her with another kiss, and then spoke again. “I’m going to go down on you.”
She shivered. She’d only had that once or twice before—her prior boyfriends hadn’t been too keen on it, bu
t she loved it. She didn’t want Phillip to offer it if he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as her, though. “Are you sure?” she asked tentatively.
In answer, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra with a quick twist of his wrist. The lacy fabric was discarded on the floor before she could blink. His kisses trailed down her neck, her chest. He traced his thumb over one nipple, then took her in his mouth. She gasped out loud, her fingernails digging into his back, marking him. He moved to the other nipple, blew on it gently ‘til it pebbled, then gave it the same treatment. Then he was kneeling before her, one hand on each of her legs, dropping kisses up her thighs that made her shudder with anticipation.
Then, oh, then, his mouth closed around her. The sensation was—was—she’d never felt anything like his lips on her before. His tongue was darting and licking and swirling just right, and his lips were sucking, and she couldn’t…she was going to…
She fisted her hands in his hair. “Phillip,” she moaned.
He pulled back, looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Say it again,” he demanded.
“Phillip. I need you. I need…” She could hardly think straight enough to talk, not when he was doing this to her.
“That’s right,” he rumbled. “Cum for me, love.” He moved back down, taking one hand off her thigh to massage her clit again while his tongue continued its dance. She grabbed onto the edge of the counter to anchor herself, back arched against the wall, breath coming in shallow pants as her core tightened. Then his mouth moved up to right there, sucking hard, and he moved his hand down and plunged two fingers into her again, and everything within her spiraled tighter and tighter. She whimpered her wordless need, driving herself down onto his fingers as he added another and plunged them deep, deeper, stretching her out and filling her up. One last hard suck and she was crying out his name again as the tightness within her released like a drawn bowstring. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, pulling her under so deep she lost track of where they were, what was happening. But never of who she was with.
Phillip. The king. Her lover, somehow, impossibly. And having been with him, like this…she felt changed. It felt like it meant something, though she wasn’t sure what.
When she returned to herself, she lay back against the wall, catching her breath. Phillip gazed up at her. That look in his eyes, like she belonged to him, like he couldn’t get enough of seeing her this way—she’d put that look there. It felt amazing.
She pushed herself back to a sitting position and started to tug him up, meaning to return the favor he’d granted her, but the door to her bedroom opened.
“Ella!” called her stepmother. “No, this is my stepdaughter’s room, I promise you she’s in here somewhere,” she said, the words muffled as she spoke to someone behind her. “She told me just an hour ago she’d have Anna’s jewelry fixed soon. Although she was smiling that ridiculous goofy grin, so she may have been writing one of those letters again instead. To a friend in the States, she tells me. Hmph.”
“Ma’am, I don’t think she’s here at the moment,” said Drake’s voice from the hall. “Come with me, I’ll help you find whatever you’re needing.”
Ella and Phillip stared at each other, frozen. She was completely naked, and he was half-naked with his hair mussed from sex. If Ella’s stepmother saw them there would be no doubt as to what they’d been doing. Being with Phillip had changed Ella, but she wasn’t ready for the changes that would ensue if they made their relationship public. And if her stepmother found out, it would most definitely become public. Ella would become a pawn in her hunt for status. And Phillip—all he had to do was make the right noise, and then once her stepmother found them, he could force the issue of Ella being considered for queen.
With her eyes, Ella begged him to be quiet. He nodded and they both held their breath. After a moment, the head of security, bless him, managed to convince her stepmother that Ella was off riding, and the door closed behind them.
Ella blew out a breath, staring back at Phillip. “Well,” she said at last, “wow.”
He smiled, but there was a new caution in his eyes, something akin to sadness. Had he seen her hesitation, realized its cause—that she still didn’t want a public relationship with him? Something deep within her curled up, tight and miserable. He’d given her a beautiful gift, and in return she’d put this new, awful look on his face.
He stood and pulled his shirt back on. “I’d better get going,” he said. “I have a press conference in a few minutes.” Then he paused, picked up the boots and held them out to her. “I really would like you to have them,” he said, a strange tone in his voice. “I had Drake help me pick them out—his wife runs a huge shoe store in town. This pair is the best of the best, brand new. And I want you to have the best. If you’re ready for that.”
She stared at the boots. They were beautiful, soft and doe-brown, a hundred times better than her old, patched pair. But somehow she sensed he was talking about more than just footwear. Was he asking her for a real relationship? She still didn’t know her course. Her future got more and more clouded every day, old goals mixing with new dreams. But what she did know was that she couldn’t stand that expression he was still wearing.
So she reached out tentatively and accepted the boots. “I do think I’m ready for that,” she answered.
His smile was like the breaking dawn. But as he gave her one last, long kiss, then disappeared out the door, she couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d just made a huge mistake.
9
Phillip was on his way to his study when he was intercepted by Eric. His brother fell into step alongside the king, took one sideways look at him, and then laughed out loud.
“Good for you, big brother,” he said, punching Phillip lightly on the arm.
Phillip frowned. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You, finally knocking boots with the not-maid.”
Phillip glared, exasperated. He’d showered, put on new clothes, and was on the other side of the Summer House from where Ella was. There was no way Eric should’ve been able to tell what had happened between them. Maybe his little brother had some kind of internal sex radar, honed over the course of his own legion of casual encounters. Phillip wouldn’t doubt it.
“Was it good?” Eric asked, and Phillip stiffened. “Oh, don’t worry,” his brother went on, “I know you don’t kiss and tell. But I can tell from that look on your smug face that it was good. Very nice.”