Delayed by Nathan Kingsly (the false prince TXT) 📗

thing we can agree on." Moving forward, I tease her lips with soft brief kisses before pulling away once more.

My hand slides from her neck to a waiting breast, squeezing as she arches into my touch. Her nipple presses through her shirt to tease my palm, her hips push forward on a small gasp.

Gliding down with both hands over the curve of her hip to slip under her ass, I grip  her cheeks hard and pull her on to my dick. Biting my lip, I grind myself into her mound and press even closer into her body.

She grips my shoulders, fingernails digging in that I can feel it through my shirt. My dick feels like it's going to explode.

"I want nothing more, but …" She bites her lip and runs her hands over the edges of where she knows my scar sits stark on my skin under my shirt.

This is the first time we'll be together since South Carolina. We've fooled around the best we could during my recovery, but it's been heavy petting with building make-out sessions as my lungs healed. It's been frustrating at best, but there's no doubt our wait would still be worth it if I have anything to do with it … and I do!

Releasing her, my hands shake with a combination of nervous and anticipatory energy as I grip my shirt and pull it over my head and toss it to the ground.

She gasps, and her fingers stop midair. Plucking them, I press them against my chest and guide them down the angry red but smooth healing scars.

Her eyes search mine. "When did they take the staples out?"

"A few days ago," I smirk. "Also got the go-ahead to follow through tonight."

She snatches her hand back, and it goes straight to her hip, her left hand already in position. "You waited days? Do you have any idea how long I've waited?" She starts to pace, her hands accusing into the air. "I've had to talk myself out of strapping you to the bed and saying hell to the doctors. And you're telling me ..."

Rolling my eyes, with sure strides I ignore her flailing arms, throw her over my shoulder, and smack her ass. "Hey!" I ignore her as I twist around and stalk to the bed. "Put me down, Liam!"

"Woman," I growl at her before flipping her onto the bed. She braces herself, her scowl scrunching up her features. "Ever heard of trying to perfect something with timing." Gesturing to her hand that showcases the symbol of my promise of our life.

She looks down, wiggling her fingers, the simple diamond glints provided by the light on the nightstand. Her expression is sheepish when she looks back. "The lack of orgasms has made me a tad crazy."

My mouth curves into a smile. "Then shut up and allow me to get back to trying to bring you to sanity."

Giggling, she collapses onto the bed, spread-eagle and smiling big. "Not another objection here."

My fingers flip my button loose. "Don't starfish me; you’ve got to do some of the work after that stunt. Strip."

The demanding way I say the last word has her catching her breath and her fingers gripping the edge of her shirt. It lands somewhere on the floor. Letting down my zipper, she sits up, her eyes watchful as it slides down, reaching the bottom. Her bra comes away, limp by her feet. My thumbs hook the edges of my jeans, leaning back I thrust my groin as I start to pull them down. My erection starts to make an appearance, and she bites her plump bottom lip. Fuck. I can’t wait until I’m buried inside her.

Swiftly she stands, there’s no tease in her movement, and she kicks her jeans to the side without ever looking away from me. Pulling my jeans far enough down that only my tip stays hidden, I pause, and her attention flickers away.

Her beautiful eyes are wild, cheeks flushed, and that hungry look she’s wearing grips my balls—one last thing.

“Panties …” I look down, smiling.

“Uhhhh,” she screams as she rips them down in a tirade, and if I wasn’t about to burst, I might have laughed. Letting go of my jeans, they fall to the floor, and I step out of them.

My hands find her body again, like no time ever passed between us. I groan so loud, in other circumstances, I would have cause to cover my own mouth, but fuck the neighbors. Her face lifts, and our tongues tangle. She still fits in all the ways that I remember and a few I’d thought I’d imagined. My hands follow familiar patterns over her body, and as they flow from one curve to the next, they know, just as I do, that they are home. Her body seems born to have my hands on her.

We tumble to the bed. My lips move from her mouth and travel down her neck to her shoulder. Skating my lips across the curve of the closest breast, I suck the nipple into my mouth. She tastes as sweet as she always does, honey-sweet, as I swirl my tongue around the tight pink tip. She’s squirming even before I move to the next.

Trailing kisses down her stomach, I position myself on my knees. My nose is running lightly against her mound before looking up at her. She is panting, looking down, already spreading her legs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this. I can’t wait to watch you come undone.”

She whimpers in response.

Gripping around one inner thigh, I tug her with one hand until her ass hovers parallel to the ground, and the other reaches up to pluck a nipple between my fingers before fastening my mouth onto her clit. She gasps, one of her fingernails scraping against my scalp before finding purchase in my hair.

Tugging the swollen bud between my lips, I flutter my tongue as her hips buck into my chin, trying to keep pace not even seconds after first contact.

“Jesus,” she whines, her other hand gripping