The Prince

“I’m starting to like the longer hair. It’s…useful.”

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and playfully tugged at it.

“Does that mean you’ll stop bugging me to cut it off?”

“Nope. Keep kissing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With relish Wesley returned to Nora’s br**sts, kissing her ni**les, sucking them, turning them between his fingers. He wanted more, but also never wanted to stop. The way she breathed and murmured small sounds of pleasure in the back of her throat intoxicated him. He couldn’t get enough of it, enough of her. The first time they’d tried this they’d been on Nora’s bed back at her house. Everything had been perfect then—the sunlight filling the room, the evening light that crept in under the door, the silk camisole he’d pulled off Nora before putting her onto her back…and now they were out on the damn dock where anyone could find them. Moths and mosquitoes danced around them. He was dirty. She was definitely going to get splinters in her back. And he couldn’t care less. The doubt had gone. The fear. Everything but the desire and the sense that even if he screwed this up somehow, it would still be right.

“Wesley…” His name escaped Nora’s lips on a breath.

“I’m here,” he said, kissing the center of her chest.

She raised her head and rested a hand on the side of his face. “You’re killing me.”

Wesley’s eyes went wide. “Wait…what? I’m killing you?”

“There’s foreplay and there’s torture. Torture’s what you-know-who does.”

“I thought…I thought you liked it.”

Nora propped herself up on her elbows.

“I f**king love it. And if you don’t get inside me in the next five seconds, I’ll love it so much I’ll die.”

Blood rushed to Wesley’s face. And from his face rushed straight to his groin.

“I can do that. I think.”

“You can. You will. Or we’ll die trying.”

Wesley pushed Nora’s skirt up to her hips and started to yank her panties down her legs.

“Tear them if you have to. Hell, tear them if you don’t.”

“I’m trying to stay calm here, Nor. This isn’t helping.”

“I’m beyond calm now. Underwear off yet?”

“Now it is.” Wesley tossed her black silk panties on the ground. Now more than ever he wished they had some decent light. He’d dreamed of seeing Nora naked, of her spreading her legs for him and letting him see every part of her... But even in the low light he could make out her thighs parting for him, her folds opening, and the tiny silver stud shining at the entrance of her body. “God…”

“Clit hood piercing. Does it freak you out?”

Wesley placed his hands on her inner thighs and pushed them open a little wider.

“Opposite of freaked out right now. God, Nora, you’re so beautiful.”

He gently brought two fingers to her and pushed her open.

“You never saw your girlfriend—”

He shook his head. “Never got that far with her. Kind of a point-of-no-return place.” He couldn’t believe how soft Nora felt, how silky…like flower petals.

“No going back now. Just forward. And in.”

She reached down between her legs and touched herself.

“I haven’t had sex in a week, Wes. Just a warning.”

“Oh, no. A whole week.”

“That’s like a year in vanilla time. We might need some extra lubrication to get you in. I haven’t forgotten what you’re packing.”

“Lubrication? I don’t have—”

Nora rolled up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her bare br**sts to his chest. Her mouth came to his and she pushed her tongue between his lips.

She bit down on his tongue and whispered, “Lubrication.”

And then he understood.

Nora stretched out on the table again. Wesley pushed her legs back open as he licked his lips in nervous anticipation.

“Lip licking is good. But mine. Not yours.”

“Right. Okay. Definitely.” He separated Nora’s folds with his fingertips once more. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Just kiss me. Only down there. Think of it as a kiss.”

“Just a kiss…” he repeated, and brought his mouth down onto her.

He’d dreamed of doing this to Nora. One of his Yorke friends complained that he had to go down on his girlfriend for half an hour to get her to orgasm. Nothing else would do it. Wesley remembered hearing that and thinking that spending thirty minutes with his head between Nora’s thighs sounded like the best thirty minutes of his life. And now he could taste the tartness of her on his tongue, smell her scent that was so womanly and erotic, feel the ball of her piercing, her swollen clitoris and the folds of her labia with his mouth.

Nora lifted her hips and he pushed his tongue into her vagina.

“Wesley…please,” she moaned, and he didn’t have to ask what she meant this time.

He pulled away from her long enough to open his pants and free himself from his jeans and boxers. Nora reached down between them and took him in her hand. When she stroked him it became Wesley’s turn to moan.

Nora let him go as she raised her knees close to her chest, and Wesley waited.

“Nora?”

She took his hands in hers and twined their fingers together.