The Serpent Prince (Princes #3)(53)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

“And did she?”

“No. For just as she was about to, the first rays of dawn hit the palace’s windows, and she knew the cock would crow soon. She flew from the ballroom, and as she crossed the doorway, she was instantly transported back to the Serpent Prince’s cave.”

“Hold still.” Lucy concentrated on getting the corner of his eye just right.

“I obey your every order, my lady.”

“Humph.”

He grinned. “Angelica tended her goats all that day, taking a nap now and then, for she was quite weary after dancing the night away. And that evening she went to visit the Serpent Prince. ‘What can I do for you now?’ he asked her, because he’d been rather expecting her. ‘There’s another ball tonight,’ she replied. ‘Can you not make me a new gown?’”

“I think she’s become greedy,” Lucy muttered.

“Prince Rutherford’s golden hair was most alluring,” he said innocently. “And the Serpent Prince agreed to conjure a new dress for her. But in order to do so, he must cut off his right hand.”

“Cut it off?” Lucy gaped in horror. “But he had no need to do so for the first dress.”

Simon looked at her almost sadly. “Ah, but he was only mortal, after all. In order to make another dress for Angelica, he must sacrifice something.”

A shiver of unease crept down her spine. “I don’t know if I like your fairy tale anymore.”

“Don’t you?” He got up from his chair and sauntered closer, looking impossibly dangerous.

“No.” She watched as he stalked toward her.

“I’m sorry. I wish only to bring you joy.” He plucked the pastel from her fingers and set it in the box beside her. “But I can’t ignore the ugly realities of life either.” He bent his head and brushed his lips down her throat. “No matter how much I’d like to.”

“I don’t want you to ignore reality,” she said softly. She swallowed as she felt his open mouth on the hollow at the base of her throat. “But I don’t think we need dwell on the horrors of life. There are plenty of good things, too.”

“So there are,” he whispered.

He swept her suddenly into his arms before she had time to gather her senses. Lucy clutched at his shoulders as he walked with her into the bedchamber next door and set her on the bed. Then he was over her, kissing her almost desperately.

Lucy closed her eyes at the onslaught of sensation. She couldn’t think while he kissed her so deeply, so ravenously, as if he would devour her. “Simon, I—”

“Shh. I know you’re sore, I know I shouldn’t do this, that I’m a rutting animal to even think of it so soon. But, God, I have to.” He raised his head and his eyes were wild. How had she ever thought them cold? “Please?”

How could any woman resist such a plea? Her heart warmed and her mouth curved in a sensuous smile. “Yes.”

She had no time to say more. At her consent, he was pulling at her clothes. She heard cloth tear. Her breasts were bare, and he fastened his mouth on one, sucking strongly. She gasped and clutched at his head, feeling the scrape of his teeth. He moved to her other breast but teased the first nipple with his thumb, rubbing and tweaking. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t assimilate what he was doing to her.

He reared back and stripped off his waistcoat. His shirt drifted to the floor a moment later.

She stared at his bared torso. He was pale and taut. Long ropes of muscle shifted on his arms as he moved. He was breathing rapidly, and the fair hairs on his chest sparkled with sweat. He was such a beautiful man, and he was all hers. A ripple of arousal pulsed through her. He stood and shucked his breeches and hose; then he was unfastening the buttons to his smallclothes.

She held her breath, watching avidly. She’d never seen a man fully naked, and it seemed long overdue. But he climbed atop her, hiding that most interesting part of himself before she could see. And a strange thought ran through her mind: Was he shy? Or was it that he was afraid of shocking her? She raised her eyes to meet his gaze and opened her mouth to disabuse him of that notion—she had, after all, spent her life in the country, where farm animals abounded—but he spoke first.

“You’re making me harder, looking at me like that.” His voice was rough, almost hoarse. “And it’s not as if I need any help to get a cock-stand around you.”

Her eyelids drooped at his words. She wanted to taste him, to do things to him that she was only vaguely aware of. More. She wanted more.

“I want to put myself in you,” he said, guttural. “I want to stay inside you all night, to wake with you around me, to make love to you before you even open your eyes.” He knelt above her. His face was not kind, and she gloried in his savagery. “If I could, I’d place you on my lap, darling angel, and hold you throughout dinner, my cock inside you. I’d feed you strawberries and cream and not move. The footmen would come and serve us and never know that my cock was in your sweet cove all the time. Your skirts would cover us, but you’d have to remain very, very still so they wouldn’t guess.”

She felt a wild pulse of desire at his carnal words. She squeezed her legs together, helplessly listening as he told her wicked, forbidden things.

“And after we’d eaten,” he whispered, “I’d order the servants away. I’d take down your bodice and suck your nipples until you came, creaming all over my cock. And I’d still not leave you then.”

She shuddered.

He kissed her softly on her neck, his caresses at odds with his hard words. “I’d place you on the table. Very carefully, oh, so very carefully, so that we never broke contact, and then I’d make love to you until we both screamed.” His words brushed her skin. “I can’t seem to help myself. I don’t know what to do with these feelings. I want to make love to you in the carriage, in my library, my God, outside in the sunshine, lying in green grass. I spent half an hour yesterday calculating how soon it would be warm enough to do so.”

His words were so erotic, so dark, it almost frightened her. She’d never thought herself a sensual creature, yet with him her body felt out of control, helpless to feel anything but pleasure. He leaned over her and flipped up her skirts so she was nude below the waist. He looked down at what he’d exposed.

“I want this.” He placed his hand over the juncture of her thighs. “All the time. I want to do this”—he parted her legs and lowered his hips until his hardness nestled in her folds—“all the time.”