At the Stroke of Midnight (Naughty Princess Club 1)

Never in my life did I think words could be such a turn-on. I’m so wet right now my thong might need to be wrung out.

Letting go of the grip I have on his shirt, I bring my hands to the belt of my robe, never taking my eyes off of PJ. I watch his face as he glances down to see what I’m doing. I watch his eyes darken when I slowly untie my robe. I watch that muscle tick in his jaw when I spread it open, exposing the tiny scrap of material that barely covers me between my legs, and my lace-covered breasts, my hardened nipples visible through the material. I watch his mouth drop open and hear him groan when I lean away from the wall to slide the robe off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

Wrapping my fingers around the wrist of his hand, which still rests against my chest, I add pressure and slowly move it down. Over my breast and across my stomach, his wrist twisting as it skims down my body until his fingers are pointing down, and I continue helping him move his hand, pushing his fingers under the front, lace-scalloped edge of my thong until he’s exactly where I want him, and he can feel how much I need him.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters before pressing his lips to mine as the tips of his fingers gently circle through my wetness.

“In case there’s any confusion, I don’t really need you to be a gentleman right now,” I speak softly against his lips, rolling my hips forward as two of his fingers slip inside of me.

I let out a low moan, letting go of his wrist while he slowly works his fingers in and out of me, wrapping both of my arms around his shoulders, remembering what Ariel made me do in my kitchen the other day.

Tilting my head forward, I move my mouth to the side of his face and press my lips against his ear.

“I just need you to fuck me against this wall,” I whisper.

Chapter 24: Golden Shower Man

As soon as the bold, whispered words leave me, PJ pulls his face back and slams his mouth against mine. When his tongue dives into my mouth, I suck it in deeper and put everything I have into this kiss.

I want him to know there’s no turning back. I want him to know I need this. I want him to know no one has ever made me feel the way he does.

I groan in frustration when he yanks his fingers out of me and moves his hand from between my thighs, but then I feel him tugging on the side of my lace thong. He strengthens the kiss, sweeping his tongue slow and deep through my mouth as he yanks as hard as he can on my thong.

“OW! Son of a bitch!” I shout, pulling my mouth away from his as the lace digs into the side of my hip.

“Sorry! Shit. I was trying to be all cool and rip these fuckers off you, but Jesus Christ what are they made out of, steel?” he mutters in annoyance, looking down between us as he continues to pull and tug at the material that refuses to tear.

“Okay, that sounds hot and all in theory, but for the love of God just take them off!”

Without hesitation, he grabs onto the lace on both sides of my hips and yanks them down my thighs. I wiggle my body until they fall the rest of the way down and pool at my feet, where I kick them away, grabbing onto the front of his shirt and hauling him back against me to kiss him.

As his tongue tangles with mine again, I feel his body shake against me as he reaches between us and undoes his pants. I let go of his shirt long enough to help him push his pants and boxer briefs down just far enough for his cock to spring out, and pull my mouth away from his to look down.

“Oh, thank God,” I mutter with a relieved sigh, as I hear the crinkle of foil and he rips open a condom wrapper. I have no idea where he pulled it from, and I don’t care.

“Why are you looking at my cock and thanking God like that?” he asks as I watch him quickly sheath his impressive length with the condom.

“Just glad it’s not crooked or covered with troll hair,” I mumble, shaking my head at him when he looks at me in confusion. “Nothing. Just hurry up.”

I don’t even care how desperate I sound. I am desperate. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this moment—to be wanted this much and to have sex somewhere other than in a bed, missionary style.