Princess (American Princess #1)(20)
Author: Courtney Cole

She unfastened her bra and he pulled it off for her, his eyes consuming her.  He groaned again, crushing her to his chest.

She ripped his shirt off and savored the feel of their hot skin pressed together.  Nothing on earth could compare to this feeling. The delicious, delicate teetering on the precipice of bliss.  The charged anticipation, the sound of their rasping breath, the silkiness of skin… Sydney thought she would explode.

Everything swirled together in her chest and she couldn’t separate one emotion from another.  Her desperate longing, the safety that she felt in his arms, the love that she felt in this room.  The one thing that she could pinpoint was need.  She needed him right now. And this was something that he could give to her.

Ten minutes of absolute perfection.

He arched against her, calling her name and then collapsed onto her, rolling onto his side so that he didn’t hurt her, but taking her with him as though he didn’t want them separated, even a fraction of an inch, a minute.  They lay clutching each other, the experience taking on the feel of something almost spiritual.

He stared into her wet eyes. “I love you, Sydney.”

“Well, now you tell me,” she smiled, tracing circles on the slightly damp skin of his back lightly with her fingers.

“You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” he murmured, as he buried his face into the side of her neck. She felt him begin to react to her again and she responded by pressing herself even closer.

She shook her head.  “I’ve been wanting you to see me this way for months.”

“I’ve seen you this way the whole time.” His voice was husky as he pulled her on top of him and began everything again. 

Thirty minutes later, she lay draped across his body, sweaty and spent. She was mulling words over in her head, trying to think of ways to vocalize her feelings about what had just happened, but found herself coming up short. She inhaled the heady scent of sex that lingered in the air like velvet and lightly trailed her fingers up and down his chest. Goosebumps formed where her fingers had been and she lowered her head to kiss them.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, liking the substantial way the words felt in her mouth. Liking the way they felt as she applied them to Stephen.

She meant them this time.  She had only thought she meant them when she had uttered them to Christian in the cramped backseat of his Porsche.  Now she understood why people said to ‘wait until you find someone special.’ This experience had been so much more than she had ever dreamed that it could be. And she understood now why it was called Making Love. That’s exactly what they had done.  There was love here. The room was thick with it.

“I think we’re probably going to hell now,” Stephen murmured, even as he kept her clutched against him. “And it was probably illegal in 36 states,” he added grimly.

“Why?” Her brow was wrinkled as she pondered his statement.  “You mean because we’re distant cousins? Or because of my age?” She snuggled closer, apparently unconcerned with either issue.

“Well, you’re 18 now and I’m 24.  That makes me a dirty old man, but it’s not illegal. But the cousin thing…”

“Oh, please!” she rolled her eyes dismissively.  “We’re distant cousins, not first cousins and we didn’t even know each other until last year!  We don’t even know how we’re related so that’s not exactly close familial ties!  Besides…” She paused to kiss the sensitive skin by his nipple, “A lot of famous people have been with cousins- they’ve even married first cousins! We’re not unique.”

“Hmm.  Comparing us to Edgar Allen Poe doesn’t ease my conscience.” He said wryly, but sucked in his breath in spite of himself as she made a circle with her tongue.

“I wasn’t thinking of him, but now that you brought it up, he did marry his 13-year old first cousin.  That’s a lot worse than us!” She smiled in the dying light from the window, her slender body still wrapped around his. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of FDR.  He and Eleanor were cousins of some sort.  Thomas Jefferson, Albert Einstein. They were brilliant people who married cousins.  And those are just the ones that I remember from History class.  There’s probably a ton more.”

“Again, Thomas Jefferson isn’t exactly who I would like to measure myself against.  He might have been brilliant, but he also fathered children with his slave women.  And these guys were geniuses from previous centuries.  How about someone from the current one?” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t help but smile at her efforts.

“Um.” She paused while she thought, hovering above him. “Ha! Rudy Giuliani!  He married his second cousin and he was the mayor of New York!” She smiled triumphantly.

“Yes, sweetheart.  I know who he is.”

His endearment stopped her moving fingers in their tracks, swelling her heart until it felt twice the size of normal.  Her parents were not big on endearments.  Her dad used to call her Princess, but she wouldn’t exactly call it an endearment.  She always felt that it was a reminder to himself that he was able to treat his daughter like a princess.  It made him feel good. No one in her entire life had called her Sweetheart. It felt nice. Normal.

“And there are probably more  but I don’t care.” She resumed her train of thought and continued the trail that her fingers were making on his body.  “I don’t care what anyone else does or thinks.  I love you and you love me.  I have never felt better than I do at this moment. That’s all that matters.”

“Is it?” He stared at her thoughtfully, studying the determined expression on her lovely face.

“Being together won’t always be easy and not because of the cousin thing. You’re right on that one. We’re so distantly related it’s almost like we’re not related at all.  Our parents are the only ones who will even know.  I’m talking about the fact that we’re from completely different worlds.”

“Has that mattered so far?” She raised an eyebrow.

He had to admit that it hadn’t.  She had never complained once about not having something, like steaks, air-conditioning or expensive shoes.  She had worn her five dollar flip-flops just as though they were Manolo Blahniks. He was pretty sure that her old bedroom had been as big as his entire house, but she had handled her change of circumstances with grace and character.  It was one of the first things that he had noticed about her. It had been a pleasant surprise.