The Princess Finds Her Match

“Are you wet, Lexie?”Nic rasped as he pushed her dress up over her hips and spread her legs wide.

“M−maybe?” She could feel the blush reaching all the way to her collarbones.

“Then let’s find out.”

He made short work of her panties, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder. She let out a muffled groan as she felt his finger delving between the lips of her sex. It was answered by an equally felt groan from Nic. “Fuck, you are soaking wet, querida.” That word again! Her legs fell open wider.

“Why did you stop?” she complained when Nic’s fingers disappeared.

“I want to savor you.” He sidled to her side, pulling her dress down and baring her breasts. Lexie watched through half−lidded eyes as his fingers painted her nipples with her own moisture.

“Oh mio Dio,” she cried in pleasure when Nic’s mouth closed on one rigid peak, suckling her. His fingers went back between her legs, slicking her with her juices. He found her sensitive spot and circled it slowly with one finger, his motions gradually increasing in pace. He ceased his ministrations on her nipple and pulled back, watching her. Lexie closed her eyes and bit her lip, out of her mind with pleasure.

“Let go, Lexie. I’ll catch you.” His voice was a low rumble. With a small scream, Lexie’s torso bucked halfway off the bed. Her body went into spasms and then she went limp.

* * *

“Lexie?” Nic gave her a gentle nudge when she hadn’t moved after several minutes. A half-pained laugh escaped him when he realized she had fallen asleep and was gently snoring. She was dead to the world and oblivious to leaving him as hard as his polo mallet. He flopped back on the bed, arms folded behind his head as he contemplated the ceiling and recalled the crazy night they had shared. He had never shared that instant connection that he had experienced with Lexie with another woman in his life before. Even with Melissa, who had been an extremely sexy and beautiful woman.

He felt her moving. She had turned toward his side, almost edging him out of the bed, and he smiled ruefully. They were obviously going to have to discuss sleeping arrangements, amongst other things, tomorrow. Later, he corrected, the clock indicating it was half past two in the morning. She started tugging on her hair, mumbling in an irritated voice. He couldn’t understand what she was saying and realized she was talking in a different language, but he understood the source of irritation. Underneath the wig, Nic could feel several pins, which were probably digging into her scalp.

“Let me help you, rojita,” he whispered, pulling the pins as gently as he could. Underneath the wig, Lexie’s hair was swept up in another updo and held by more pins. He managed to figure out how to remove more hairpins that were stuck into her hair and was surprised by the sheer number that he had removed. Through it all, Lexie had gone back to sleeping deeply. Making sure that he had removed each and every damned one of those hairpins, he combed out Lexie’s hair so that the long tresses fell in a disarray down her back.

Nic muffled his laughter as the night lamp illuminated her real hair. It was a glorious titian red. Thank God. His tattoo wouldn’t have made any sense if she had been a brunette. He fingered the soft locks and tucked it gently behind an ear. She appeared younger in sleep. Later, they would talk. It was blessed timing that his practice was scheduled in the afternoon, so they had time to spend together before he had to be away from her. Nic decided to make himself comfortable since he had a few hours of shuteye to spare. He was still hard, but that could wait. Without standing and some hip action, he managed to remove his trousers. His mobile fell with a thud to the carpeted floor.

There were several missed calls from Rupert Butler and another from a number that wasn’t on his phone book. Lexie stirred and Nic glanced at her quickly, afraid he had woken her up, but she was still deep in slumber. Her profile was clean and pure. Her dress was still riding on her hips, exposing a smooth thigh. A shot of lust speared Nic at the sight of her breasts pressed close together by her arm. She looked like a Titian painting and Nic had never seen anything so artless and lovely. Before he knew what he was doing, Nic had captured several photos of her in repose. Later, he would show her how beautiful she was in sleep. His eyes drifted close and the last thought he remembered was that he couldn’t wait for her to awaken.