In Bed with the Beast (Naughty Princess Club 2)

“What the hell is that?” he asks, causing me to abruptly stop moving.

“It’s the Macarena. Heeeeey Macarena!” I sing. “It’s the only dance I know without using the chair. You totally broke my concentration. Now I’m going to have to start over.”

“Christ,” he mutters under his breath.

With a sigh, I start nodding my head to the beat again. Right when I throw one arm out in front of me, Vincent grabs it and yanks my body towards him, until I’m pressed against him from chest to thigh. In a flash, he sits down on the chair, grabbing my hips and easily picking me up and depositing me on his lap, my thighs straddling his.

I think I should have stretched before this. Good God almighty, does he have big thighs.

He leans forward in the chair, pressing his chest against mine and putting his lips right by my ear again.

“Close your eyes and just feel the music,” he whispers, his warm breath making my skin break out in goosebumps. “Do what you probably did earlier when Cindy was here. Pretend like I’m not here and you’re all alone.”

“Actually, when Cindy was here, I pretended like you were sitting right here, where you are now,” I inform him.

He pulls his head back from mine and looks at me, his eyes darkening as his hands clutch tighter to my hips. My eyes dart down to his throat and I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, and a thrill of excitement courses through me.

Vincent’s hands move from my hips, sliding down the outside of my thighs while he continues staring at me. When he gets to the hem of my dress, his hands slip under it and I feel his warm, bare palms against my skin as they slide right back up, over my hips and grip my butt. He yanks me closer to him, and as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, I suddenly realize another reason why I like these sweatpants so much.

Or should I say, I suddenly feel why I like these things so much. His thighs, chest, and arms aren’t the only big things on this man, and I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t ripped through the crotch of these things yet, like the Hulk tearing off one of his shirts.

Don’t think about his penis ripping through his sweatpants! Now is not the time to giggle!

There is nothing separating us right now but a thin piece of cotton material and my black, lacy thong. I didn’t think anything would feel better than his jeans rubbing against me in the library that night, but this is heaven. I can feel every inch of him against me and an ache starts to form that I need relief from immediately.

Removing one of my arms from around him, I quickly dip my hand down into the front of my dress, pulling out the notecards I stuck in there when he was in the shower.

“Feel the music. Close your eyes if you need to. Make eye contact and—”

The notecards are suddenly wrenched from my hands, and Vincent tosses them to the side. I bite my bottom lip as I watch them flutter to the floor.

He squeezes my butt tighter, pulling me harder against him until I can’t stop the soft moan that flies out of my mouth.

“How drunk are you right now?” he suddenly asks.

“The room is no longer spinning and I’m ninety-nine percent confident the need to throw up is long gone.”

“Good,” he mumbles, one of his hands letting go of my butt.

He brings it up to the back of my head, clutching a handful of my hair in his fist, leaning forward as he yanks me towards him, crashing our mouths together.

Sliding my arms up his hard chest, I wrap them around his neck, holding on for dear life as he punishes me with his mouth, tangling his tongue with mine. My hips jerk on his lap, rubbing against every glorious inch of him and he abruptly ends the kiss, pulling his head back just far enough to look into my eyes.

“Don’t think. Just move. Do whatever feels good to you.”

I’m too busy thinking about how much I want this man now to worry about whether or not I’m going to make a fool of myself. I do what he says as the soft strains of a piano echo around the room. I swivel my hips to the sexy beat of the music, sliding against him, over and over until I’ve forgotten everything, including my own name.

“Christ, you don’t even know how hot you are right now,” he mutters, using his hand that’s still on my butt to help me move harder against him.

He jerks his hand that’s still holding the hair at the back of my neck, forcing my head back. I let out a gasp of pleasure when he dips his head down to the side of my neck, nipping my skin and then gently sucking it into his mouth.