Amelia
I want him. I need him. Now.
I don’t think as I press my lips to his. As I let in his tongue and he kisses me like he wants to devour me.
My whole body tingles, and when he slides his hand to the back of my neck and pulls me even closer, my skin prickles where he touches me.
I don’t know how, but suddenly I’m sitting on his lap, and his free hand glides down my back to the zipper of my dress. As he slowly opens it, his fingers brushing my bare skin, I shudder.
“Off,” he murmurs against my lips, and I raise my arms so he can pull the fabric over my head.
His gaze burns into mine as he takes me in, his eyes trailing over every inch of my body like a caress; I can almost feel it. His eyes flash when he sees I’m not wearing a bra, and goosebumps ripple over my body as his fingertips gently trace up my spine.
“Beautiful,” he breathes, placing soft kisses on my neck, my collarbone, while the hand at my back pulls me even tighter against him, so I can feel what this is doing to him, what I am doing to him.
Heat coils low in my belly as I feel his hardness pressing against me, and when his lips continue their path and his hand slides beneath my breasts, I feel like I’m melting.
A whimper escapes me when his thumb brushes my nipple, and I squirm restlessly on his lap, which makes him laugh quietly.
“So impatient? Tsk tsk,” he teases, leaning forward and closing his mouth around my nipple. He sucks and nibbles, and I shatter. Butterflies explode in my stomach, my center pulses and throbs with such aching need that I can’t hold back a moan.
“Nicolas… please… I… oh God,” I breathe as he moves to tease the other side.
More, I want more, damn it.
“Mmm, so good. So beautiful,” he murmurs against my nipple, giving it another gentle nip. He torments me deliberately, letting his hands glide down my waist, skimming over my hips, returning to my thighs, his thumbs pausing just before reaching where I need him most.
A growl escapes me, and he chuckles again, his chest vibrating against mine.
“What? What do you want, Amelia of Harlington? Tell me.” His voice is thick with desire, his eyes burning as he lifts his head and looks at me.
God, the way he says my name, his name, makes my body tremble.
And in this moment, I don’t want to hold anything back. I want to live, I want to feel.
My hands slide into his hair, I pull him to me, bite his lower lip gently, trace it with my tongue, and he growls, deep and real, fueling the heat that’s already burning inside me.
“You. I want you,” I whisper, and kiss him, feeling his self-control snap.
Before I can blink, I’m on my back and he’s torn off his clothes.
Good God, he’s beautiful. He’s looks like a god, and I feel the urge to press my legs together out of sheer need, but he’s faster and within seconds, my panties are gone.
Utterly entranced, he runs his fingers along my center, lets one glide through my wetness, making me moan loudly. I arch into his touch and finally, finally, he gives in to my begging.
He pulls me to the edge of the bed, kneels before me, and looks up at me with gleaming eyes. My chest rises and falls rapidly, I feel like I’m about to combust if he doesn’t do something soon to satisfy this hunger.
Nicolas slides his fingers through my slickness again, and then his mouth is on me. He licks, nibbles, bites, and I melt. I shatter, fly and fall all at once. When he adds two fingers, moving inside me slow and deep, my back arches and I cry out his name, gripping the sheets beneath me.
“Come for me, Goldilocks, come on,” he urges, and I obey his command. My body obeys and the orgasm crashes through me so hard I lose all sense of direction for a moment.
Oh God.
But Nicolas doesn’t give me time to recover. No, his body slides up along mine and, my God, when I feel his warm, firm skin against mine, when my hands run along the muscles of his back, desire flares anew.
I wrap my legs around his hips, as he thrusts deep inside me, his moan sending shivers through my whole body.
He fills me completely, and when he starts moving again, slow but firm thrusts, I feel myself soaring all over again.
My fingers dig into his back, I lift my hips, and he slides a hand underneath to push even deeper into me.
“Fuck, you’re really going to be the death of me,” he rasps in my ear, biting it softly before crushing his lips back to mine. I taste myself on his mouth, and it turns me on even more. I want more. Even more.
Nicolas makes me feel alive; it’s like feeling a high.
Feeling him inside me sends my endorphins spinning, and I slide my hand to his tight ass, pulling him closer, and he gives me everything I need.
His rhythm quickens, his thrusts grow harder, and I meet every one of them.
His breath at my ear, ragged and hot, only drives me faster.
“Mine. You’re mine,” he growls, low and dark, as he sends me over the edge again and follows moments later. He collapses heavily onto me, his rapid, strong heartbeat pressing against me, and I feel just the same.
I close my eyes, as we both need a moment to catch our breath.
He props himself up on his elbows and I watch the play of muscles in his arms and chest, mesmerized, and he notices.
“Like what you see?” he asks, lips twitching as my eyes dart to his face, feeling caught. I feel my cheeks flush, but Nicolas surprises me, brushing his nose along mine and pressing a tender kiss to the corners of my mouth.
Help. I can handle the arrogant version of him, but this version, sweet and gentle, dear Mother of God, is dangerous.
My stomach flutters wildly and I know I’m in trouble. But I like having him near me too much to care.
“Hmm, it’s alright,” I reply with mock boredom, then gasp, digging my fingers into the sheets, as he thrusts his hips slightly forward.
“‘Hmm, it’s alright’? Then I guess I’ll have to try harder to convince you of my clearly fantastic abilities, Goldilocks.”
Oh fuck, he’s already hard again and still inside me, and… I lift my hips, beginning to move again in slow, tight circles. I’m insatiable. Starving. And the throbbing returns with such need that I give in to the game again.
Nicolas leans in and takes my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently before his tongue resumes its sensual dance with mine.
We start moving again, slow and deliberate, his body sliding into mine while mine grinds against him.
The heat builds once more, and I spread my legs wider, pulling him closer.
The kiss grows rough and hungry, and I let out a whimper, craving more.
Nicolas must feel the same. He pulls back, and when he slips out of me, I curse under my breath. But he acts fast, pulling me against his chest. One hand teases my nipple, sending sparks through me, and I squirm as he bites my neck.
“Turn around,” he commands harshly, and I do as he demands. A soft cry escapes my lips as he grabs my hips and thrusts into me from behind.
“Oh God, yes,” I moan, and he laughs as he pounds into me, fast and hard. My center clenches around him instantly and this time, it doesn’t take long.
The orgasm surges through my body; Nicolas moans as I tighten around him and the world around us seems to pulse. He follows soon after, and I collapse onto the bed beneath him, both of us utterly breathless, struggling to catch our breath.
“Okay… that was… definitely necessary,” I pant, and his laughter rumbles against my back.
“Definitely so necessary, Goldilocks,” he agrees, rolling off me to lie beside me. We remain silent as his hand slowly glides down my back and rests on my hip, while my eyelids grow heavy and start to close. He gives me this strange sense of contentment, and I feel safe.
I know I should get up, clean myself, and take a shower, but my muscles and limbs feel heavy and practically nonexistent, so I just stay lying there.
“I should shower,” I mumble pointlessly into the quiet, and he laughs again.
“Then why don’t you? Want some help?” He pinches my butt gently and I let out a scandalized sound that makes him chuckle again.
“Come on, Goldilocks. Let’s shower, and then we talk, okay?” The word “talk” stings for a second, and fear starts to creep in again, but I push it down. Nicolas is so calm, so unlike himself, that I don’t want my doubts to spoil this moment.
And he’s right. We need to talk.
Especially after what just happened.
Half an hour later, we’re both back on the bed. I’m wearing a fresh shirt and new underwear, and Nicolas is in sweatpants. He’s leaning against the headboard and without hesitation has pulled me into his arms.
Now my head rests on his bare chest. The butterflies in my stomach have returned, and I have no desire to let in my fear, my uncertainty, or my doubts.
He’s giving me a feeling I’ve missed for so long: safety.
I selfishly savor this feeling now. For once, I allow myself to be selfish, because I’m well aware that sex hasn’t suddenly made everything perfect or turned us into a couple.
But apparently, he wants to be here right now just as much as I do.
“How did you get those scars on your back?”
My heart stops, then races, and panic creeps out of its corner.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’ve let myself fall so freely that I forgot about my scars. They’re almost invisible, fine silver lines across my back, but they’re there.
Damn it.
I curse inwardly and try to stop my hands from trembling.
“I fell off a horse two years ago, right into a rose bush. The thorns tore my back when I fell.”
A lie.
My heart tightens, because the last thing I want is to lie to him, but telling the truth just isn’t an option. He seems to buy the story, doesn’t push for more, and I almost let out a sigh of relief, catching myself just in time.
For a while, we lie there silently again, and I enjoy the quiet. It’s not uncomfortable. It feels completely normal.
He breaks the silence. “Did you know all along that Phil was gay?” I hesitate briefly.
Okay, beating around the bush is definitely not his style.
I swallow.
Now comes the tricky part because I still can’t tell him everything. Not until I’ve spoken to Damien.
“I’ve known for a while, yes, because Philipp was honest with me from the start. We knew we were supposed to marry, and he didn’t want to give me false hope. He wanted to give me the chance to, well, you know…” I pause, look up at Nicolas, and my cheeks flush as I see his cheeky grin.
“Well, I know WHAT? Give you the chance to have sex?” he teases, laughing, and I turn even redder, though that’s pretty ridiculous considering what we just did.
“Yes, damn it. He wanted me to have the chance to find my happiness too. Someone who loves me as a woman and can give me everything I deserve, because he couldn’t.
I knew that if I fell in love, I’d never be able to show it publicly, but I wanted to help him, and he offered me the chance to leave Perlington House.
But it was incredibly hard for him to tell me.
You know the politics here. The laws are outdated, and when it comes to discrimination against gay people, Harlington might as well still be living in the Middle Ages.
“ I snort briefly, because just thinking about it makes me boil inside. It’s so unfair and stupid.
Nicolas nods silently, encouraging me to continue. He plays with my curls as he does so, and my silly heart skips a beat because the gesture is so intimate.
“Why do you want to leave Perlington House?” The question freezes me, and I hold my breath.
Oh damn it.
Nicolas gives me such a sense of security that I forget all caution and just start talking. Inside, I scold myself for being so foolish.
Phil knew that Henry and I had difficulties but not the extent of my torment.
“You knew my parents. They were strict and dutiful. Nothing else mattered. From a young age, I was trained and raised to be the perfect woman, or at least they tried. But love, affection? None of that. And my brother… let’s just say he followed in my father’s footsteps and rules Perlington House with a hard hand.
And that includes me. I’m just a woman.” I look up at him again, hoping he swallows this answer too.
I flinch when he stares at me seriously and intensely.
He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear so gently that my skin tingles where he touches me.
“What?” I ask uncertainly, because he doesn’t say anything. A slight smile appears on his lips.
“Well, I’d say they didn’t quite succeed in making you the perfect daughter. She’s pretty cheeky, sassy, and rebellious.”
I burst out laughing because, honestly, he has a point. But when I look at him again, he’s frozen, looking at me as if struck by lightning. Puzzled, I sit up and tap him.
“Are you okay? Do I have something on my face?” I ask cautiously, looking down at myself. Nicolas still stares at me like I’m a vision. Then he blinks and clears his throat.
“Your laugh. Sorry, that laugh… it’s… I like it,” he says, and I open my eyes wide in surprise.
Has he never seen me laugh? Do I really laugh that little?
But when I think about it, I’m not sure. Maybe I really have never laughed in his presence. Let’s be honest, he has not exactly given me a reason to until now.
Bitterness rises in me, but then he surprises me again by grabbing me in a flash. Suddenly, I’m lying beneath him, blinking up at him in confusion.
“What…” I start, but he silences me with his index finger. The intensity of his gaze makes me forget everything.
“Amelia, Princess of Harlington, would you go out with me after our wedding?”
A small spark lights up in my stomach, and, despite feeling a little nervous about tomorrow, I give him a shy smile.
“Yes, Nicolas, Prince of Harlington, I would like that very much.”