The Prince

Wesley had gotten hard just talking about it, and Nora clearly noticed.

“Damn…” she repeated as she pressed her hand flat against his erection. “Too bad I don’t have a skirt on.”

“Who cares?”

At that Wesley brought his mouth down on hers so hard it surprised him. Nora’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as his hands raked down her back and wrenched her panties down her legs. He pushed her back on the table and shoved her legs wide open.

He penetrated her with three fingers liked she’d told him to do, and was rewarded with a gasp of pure pleasure. With his thumb he stroked her clitoris, and Nora arched so high her entire back came off the table.

Never had he heard her pant so hard before. Never had he felt her inner muscles so tight around his hand before. And never ever had he needed to be inside her more in his life.

“Nora…”

“Fuck me, Wes. Right now.”

“Definitely.”

He pulled his hand out of her and opened his jeans. It took a few seconds longer than necessary as the need consumed him, enough to make him clumsy. Nora rolled up and Wesley dragged her to the very edge of the table. He took himself in his hand and pushed into her. As soon as he’d gone as deep as he could go, he wrapped her legs around his back.

“Wes, I’m heavier than I look, remember?”

“Yeah, but I’m stronger than I look.” And with that he lifted her off the table and pushed her into the stone wall by the fireplace.

Nora winced.

“Stone wall—bad idea.” Wesley tried to cradle her closer to him.

“Amazing idea. I like it. Don’t stop.”

Wesley didn’t think he could stop if someone put a gun to his head. He thrust hard into her, harder than he thought he could, and a sound escaped Nora’s lips that was so potently erotic he wished he’d recorded it. He thrust again just as hard and the sound came again. Nora bent her head and bit her teeth into his shoulder. The pain didn’t bother him. It merely made him think he might be doing something right for once.

His mind shut down and his body took over. Wesley ran, he swam, lifted weights and rode big, dangerous horses, and all the strength and power he’d acquired from those activities he used on Nora now, lifting her high, pounding into her harder. Every muscle in his body had gone taut as a high wire. Sounds came out of him, too, grunts and breaths so guttural anyone hearing would think he was in pain. And it was pain…his arms strained to hold Nora up; his back tensed to keep him from letting go and coming too soon. But the pain meant nothing to him. How could it, with Nora wrapped full-body around him, and him so deep inside her he couldn’t go any deeper if he tried?

He kissed her neck, her mouth and ears. She dug her fingernails into his back. With each of Wes’s thrusts up and into her, Nora pushed her hips against his in some kind of primal desperation. He’d never felt so wanted, so needed. Especially as her cries grew throatier, more strained. Her breath came in short puffs through her teeth. He could feel her tighten even more around him...

The cry in his ear rang out sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard. Nora’s climax shook her whole body. She flinched as if in pain, even as he kept driving into her with bruising force. Pounding…he heard the pounding as much as he felt it in his stomach and thighs.

“Wes…” Nora breathed. But he heard nothing else as his own orgasm exploded out of him and into her. The release shook him to his core. And even Nora saying his name over and over again couldn’t mute the pleasure and the power and the surrender to the moment.

Slowly, Nora slid down him and put a tentative foot on the floor as Wesley pulled out of her. Breathing hard, he leaned against the wall, his forehead against the stone.

“What…what’s wrong?” he said as Nora started throwing her clothes on, fast and furious.

“The door. Somebody’s pounding on the door.”

Reluctantly, Wesley opened his eyes and looked at her. He glanced at the clock over the hearth as he started to pull himself together. He looked down at himself.

“Dammit.”

“Yeah, they never put the copious amounts of girl-boy fluids in the romance novels, either. Here.” She tossed him a kitchen towel, and Wesley used it to wipe himself off before zipping up his jeans.

“I’m starting to think those things aren’t very realistic.”

“Don’t ever tell anyone that,” she said as she grabbed one of Wesley’s jackets off the back of the kitchen door and wrapped it around herself like a bathrobe.

With each of them half-dressed, Wesley raced down the hall to the front door of the guesthouse. Middle-of-the-night knocks usually meant only one thing.

He threw the door open and found his father standing outside.

“Who is it?” Wesley asked as Nora came to stand behind him, her hands on his hips.

His father gave her only the most cursory of disgusted glances before looking back at Wesley. “I guess I’m interrupting. Never mind. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“You’re not interrupting, Dad. Who is it?”

“Track Beauty. Coming?”

“What’s going on?” Nora asked from behind him.

Wesley laid his hand on top of hers. “Track Beauty is about to give birth. Can get complicated. One of us always tries to be there.”

“Let’s go, then.” Nora squeezed his hand and started down the hall. “I’ll be right with you.”