Chapter 11 George and Isahn make moves. #2
“And about your uncle, Burke’s concern is valid. I’ve already considered it. Stay close to me, and it won’t be a problem. I can alter your appearance if we cross his path.”
Isahn nodded even though she wasn’t looking his way, then he sat on a chair in the corner to watch her pack. “Why don’t you have a staff member do that for you?”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Feels weird when I’m perfectly capable of doing it on my own.”
She pursed her pillowy lips instead of saying “See.”
Isahn watched for another minute. He could’ve helped. It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. Unfortunately, he was invested in the fabric of her dress tightening and loosening over her voluptuous bottom with each item she moved from its rack to her travel chest.
George’s demeanor at luncheon—prandium, whatever they called it—had been markedly different from now. It was almost as if she’d been worried about Wynnie having success with her overtly sexual illusions. He thought the princess may have been jealous, and it was high time to find out.
“Oh, Princess Georgie?” he drawled.
She paused her packing, standing slowly from the chest and turning even more languidly to face him. “Yes?” Her tone was suspicious.
As it should be. “Why didn’t you want me to stay with Wynnie?”
Her eyes flickered as she clenched her jaw.
Tentatively, he sent a stream of water her way, ensuring it was visible on its path across the room.
She watched the cord push closer and closer until he reached her lovely lilac dress.
George could’ve slapped his magic away at any time.
She could’ve sliced through it with her touch if she’d been so inclined, but she just stood there, her breasts rising and falling as her breaths quickened.
Soaking up the sensation of her softness through the warble of water, he trailed a heated tendril down the curve of her stomach, lingering on her waist. She shivered as he circled the point of her hip bone, leaving no sign of wetness on her dress.
George’s lashes fluttered nearly closed as she dropped her gaze to watch him explore her waist.
Finally, she answered his question. “Safety.”
Isahn scoffed, pulling his magic away an inch.
George’s eyes snapped to him, piercing and hard. “Why? Do you want to stay with her?”
His lips twitched. He knew it. But before he had the chance to reply, George’s magic grabbed hold of his wrists and pulled him up from his chair. Urged on, partially by force, partially by his own free will, he walked toward her.
“No. I want to stay with you.”
Her lips parted into a little O as she released his wrists.
George may have stopped using her power to draw him closer, but Isahn didn’t stop coming, not until they stood close enough for their toes to touch.
“Is that all right with you?” He lowered his forehead until her curls tickled his skin, her scent enveloping him.
“Mhm,” she hummed, lifting her hand so slowly he couldn’t breathe for fear she’d jolt away. Finally, the tips of her fingers made contact with his stubbled face, and she ran them gently along his jawline.
A shiver ran through Isahn as he tilted his head further. Her eyes darkened, and her tongue swiped her lower lip.
Their breaths mingled for a moment before George dropped her hand and turned her head away, her breathing fast and shallow, though her toes pressed harder against his.
Scared. She’s scared, he realized. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him, she was nervous to make the first move.
Gently, slowly, so as not to alarm her, he rested his hand on the side of her neck.
Applying subtle pressure beneath her chin with his thumb, and pressing his fingers into her nape, he brought her toward him.
She gasped in surprise, and his mouth touched down.
Lips already parted, their first meeting was a sensuous delight, a tentative shared breath, a whisper of contact as they eased into the new experience.
Pulling back, he rested the sharp point of his nose against the round tip of hers. A little whine of frustration escaped Georgie as her fingers found his tunic, and she twisted the fabric, drawing him in, her intent clear.
His mouth found hers again. She was so much softer than he’d imagined, and he pressed a line of small kisses along the seam of her lips, feeling them curve into a smile beneath his attention.
With an arm hooked around her waist, palm slotted against the curve of her lower back, he pulled her against him and probed his tongue gently, teasingly, along her lush lower lip.
When she licked him back and her hands grasped for his biceps, squeezing him, he realized he’d broken through to a new part of her. Wrapping a hand around his back, George clung to him, molding their bodies together as their lips held a silent debate.
Tongues dipped and dived, tussling as they each fought to get in the last word, to claim dominance.
Her kiss was bruising, impassioned. Between pleasured moans and trailing fingertips, they explored each other’s hot mouths and burning skin, giving in to the tense attraction that had been building between them for days.
He may have been freed from captivity, but Isahn realized then: there was little hope he’d ever walk away.
“Can you do the thing that Wynnie does?” he asked between kisses, not fully processing what a bad idea it was to ask.
George stiffened and pulled back. “What thing?” She narrowed her eyes, though her hands still explored his biceps with interest.
He grimaced. “First, let me assure you, I hated it.”
“Mhm.” She pursed her lips.
“I swear to you. I swear on my life, and you know I value that.” Grinning sheepishly, tone pleading, he sent a cord of magic to wrap around her waist in a soft hold.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because you’ve sent me to space and other places with your magic. I’m curious.” He winked. “Plus, it might be enjoyable, if it’s someone I want to see.”
“Oh.” Her face flushed.
Isahn couldn’t help himself; he leaned in again to press a kiss to her cheek. Wanting to make contact with the rosy warmth.
She allowed it, before tightening her grip on his arms and turning to claim his mouth.
Isahn closed his eyes, sinking into her. Her cozy, summery scent curled around him, and hot pleasure coursed through his veins. She nibbled his lower lip, then slicked her tongue along it before kissing him again—hard.
“I can do this. Open your eyes,” George murmured into his mouth before flooding him with the most erotic set of images and phantom touches imaginable.
Her real hands slid up and down his biceps before she looped an arm around to explore the muscles of his back.
Her real lips, hot and needy, molded against his own.
Her real breasts pressed against his chest, soft and delightfully squishy.
Simultaneously, in his mind, a whole other set of related activities occurred.
A nearly naked George, clothed in a soaked, sheer bathing cloth, stood before him.
Her mirage hands reached forward and wrapped hotly around his member, just as he’d imagined.
And he could feel it, despite her very real hands exploring his upper body at that moment.
Isahn glanced down in his mind’s eye to find that he was the one who was entirely nude.
It wasn’t a perfect representation of his cock, but pretty damn close.
“You are unbelievable, Georgie,” he groaned into her mouth.
A knock on the door forced them apart.
She dropped the vision and stepped back, breathing heavily, as Burke poked his head in. Her fingers lingered on Isahn’s bicep before she finally let him go. Clearly, she didn’t mind her friends catching on to what they were up to. The idea warmed him more, not that he needed it at that moment.
“Ha!” Burke barked when he realized what he’d intruded upon. “Nice.”
George glowered as she swiped at her swollen lips. “What?” she snapped.
“It’s time to go.”