Hunting Beauty (Possessing Beauty 4)

I felt like I was back there in that clearing in the woods, my back to a tree and him standing in front of me, taking me.

Damon.

I shivered at the thought of his name, imagining his hands moving over me. I imagined him pinning me to the tree, his lips and his mouth tasting every inch of me in ways I’d never experienced.

I blushed quickly, suddenly very much reminded that I was panty-less under my sundress.

“Hey.”

I glanced up to see Anya glancing at me with a funny look.

“You okay?”

I swallowed.

“Yep, fine.”

“You look a little crazy right now.”

I shrugged. “Nope, I’m fine.”

She eyed me but said nothing.

“Hey, thanks for taking me out here today,” I said quickly, changing the subject. “I needed to get out.”

“Hey, that's what I’m here for.” She grinned before she glanced at her watch. “Well that and making sure we get to your dress fitting on time.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” I said aimlessly. I was having a hard time concentrating on anything, my mind still right back there with Damon.

He knew. There at the end when Anya had called my name, I’d watched him put it together. I’d let him come close. I’d shivered and moaned when he’d put his hands on me. I’d felt my heart jump out of my chest when he’d kissed me.

Because he was everything I’d ever fantasized about. It was like the hunky hero from a romance book had stepped out of the trees and demanded my submission, and I’d been so ready to give it. God, I’d have given him everything back there, if he’d asked.

Or taken.

I shivered again, squeezing my legs together under the sundress.

But then Anya had called my name, and I saw him realize who I was. And then I’d run from the man of my actual dreams.

I sighed.

Anya poked me, getting my attention again. “Oh, we’ll be fine, huh?” she grinned. “Says the girl who doesn’t actually want to go to this fitting.”

I forced a laugh, trying to push the thoughts of Damon’s fingers touching my pussy - the first time a man had touched me there ever — out of my head.

“Relax. If we’re late, I’ll tell everyone I was having you wash my feet or fetch me wine or something.”

“Yeah, watch it, Princess,” she tossed back as we both grinned.

Her being my “servant” was kind of a running joke between us.

“You sure you can’t come to this ball with me?”

She laughed. “Hey, you’ll have fun with your cousins. Plus, I’m not actual royalty,” she rolled her “R” with a dramatic flourish.

“Ugh, I know. Lucky. What are you going to do instead?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly turned to look out the window of the car.

My brow arched. “Oh, now this seems juicy.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she waved me off. “Just this party I got invited to.”

“By?”

“Hmm?”

I sighed. “By whom. Who invited you to a party?”

She kept her face turned, but I could see the pink blush there on her cheeks.

“It’s nothing, Adele, honestly. Just this random invite to this random thing in town.”

“Someone’s house?”

“No, it’s this club—” She turned back, her lips pursed with a tight grin. “You ask a lot of questions.”

I laughed. “Whatever it is, take me with you.”

“Sorry girl, no can do.” She gave me sympathetic look. “The hardships of being a princess, I guess. But hey, there’ll probably be lots of hot prince-types at the ball.”

And none of them Damon.

None of them so rawly masculine, so gruff, so damn sexy in that panty-melting way.

But he knew who I was. He knew now that he’d put his hands all over King Lorne’s virgin daughter. If he wasn’t fleeing the country by now, there was no way I’d ever see him again.

If only I knew how wrong I was.

Chapter 4

Damon

After that day, I was done. Everything I thought I knew? Yeah, forget it. I’d walked into the wrong woods. I’d locked eyes with, gotten too close to, and put my hands all over the wrong girl. And now I was fuckin’ cursed. Because I was damned either way.

Princess Adele.

I’d ask myself how the fuck I hadn’t recognized her, but it’s not like I’d have immediately realized the gorgeous, curvy, naked vixen in the woods was the damned Princess of the whole country.

Yeah the lack of crown — that’s how I’d not recognized her.

I could have rolled my eyes.

Touching her had been wrong, but she hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t run away. Hell, she’d moaned when I’d put my hands on her. She’s opened her mouth for me. She’d willingly spread her legs for me, whimpering as I’d stroked my finger up and down her sweet, soft, untouched pussy.

But that was something that’d never be. Not her, and not with me. Not with some grunt from the service. Oh, I was a Captain?

What a joke.

The rank was well and good when you were at my level. But for someone at her level? No, for her, a captain didn’t mean shit. I wasn’t a prince, or a king, or duke or fuckin lord, or whatever.