She gently pushed the door open and was immediately lost in the thick, hot steam. She stood for a moment to get her bearings, then saw the glass shower stall. His back was to her, his face in the spray. She squared her shoulders, walked to the stall, and slowly pulled open the door.
She stepped in behind him, her hands settling on his hips. “Leo,” she whispered even as he stiffened, one quick jolt of fear eclipsed by relief. And, she hoped, by longing.
She moved closer until her breasts were pressed against his back, and she slid her hands around to stroke his cock. His body tensed, and though she wanted to take him all the way, she wasn’t disappointed when he spun around, one hand cupping her head as his mouth closed violently over hers. He pushed her back, his lips hard on hers, his tongue warring with her own. She felt the cool glass against her back in contrast to the wet heat of the shower—and to Leo’s body, hot and hard and slick against hers.
“How are you here?”
His words were muffled by the press of his lips against her neck, then down lower until his teeth grazed her nipple. She made a squeaking noise, but couldn’t manage a response.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his hands belying his words as his palms stroked and teased, his fingers slipping between her thighs, the intimate touch making her body shake as she moaned.
“Do you mind?” She could barely force the words out past her gasps and the wild jolts of electricity that were firing through her body.
“Terribly,” he said, as his hands slid to her hips and he lowered himself to his knees as he kissed his way down her belly. The tip of his tongue teased her clit, and her knees turned to rubber. She would have fallen except that he was holding her up, his entire mouth on her now, sucking and licking, and it felt so beyond incredible that it was a wonder she didn’t pass out.
She twined her fingers in his hair and bucked against him, her body desperate for release even while her mind wanted this wild and delicious sensation to never, ever end.
“Please,” she murmured, her mind so lost in a sensual haze that she wasn’t even sure what she was asking for. He rose, and she whimpered, then melted again when he silenced her with a kiss.
“With me,” he murmured, then led her out of the shower, through the steamy bathroom, and to the pristinely made bed.
“We’re soaking … wet.”
“I don’t care,” he said, then pulled him down with her. He straddled her, his body so warm it was like he burned from within, erasing any fears that she’d be cold. On the contrary, she felt on fire, every cell in her body like a small generator, making her burn for him.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, Leo, I don’t want to wait.”
He fumbled beside the bed, then pulled out a condom.
“I thought you said you … didn’t.” She meant it to be a tease, but maybe she was a tiny bit hurt that he’d told her he wasn’t sleeping around, and yet he kept condoms in his drawer.
“I haven’t,” he said. He pushed himself up, then gently brushed her hair from her eyes. “But when I saw you again—I knew we shouldn’t. I thought you wouldn’t want me, anyway. And yet, I hoped.”
She felt the tears prick her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I …hoped, too.”
“Skye.”
That was all he said, and their eyes locked and held. “Leo.” His name was a whisper, but it held so much meaning. And so much hope.
His mouth closed over hers again, and she arched back as he claimed her with his kisses, his hand stroking her body, readying her until she was begging him, whimpering for him to please, please take her right then.
“As you wish,” he whispered, then sank deep inside her as she arched up, meeting him thrust for thrust until they both exploded in a sizzle of stars and lightning and atoms and ecstasy. Until the world fell away, and it was just the two of them left, alone in each other’s arms.
She clung to him, breathing hard and never wanting to let go.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” she said. “That, and that you’ll probably have to call the front desk for a new duvet. This one got soaked.”
He laughed, pulling her over until she was straddling him. “I’m sure they’ll accommodate. I’m a prince, after all. Or hadn’t you heard?”
“I think you mentioned something along those lines. And, Your Highness, I have to say that was incredible.”
He brushed his fingertip over her lips. “Thank you,” he said, the teasing gone from his voice. “For not listening to me. And for doing whatever you did that convinced Jürgen to let you in.”
“Ah, yeah. Well, I … had to kill him. Sorry about that.”
He stifled a laugh. “Well worth the sacrifice.”
“Actually, I … owe him.”
“We both do.” He moved closer and kissed her again, and she never wanted the moment to end.
“It might get bad,” he said, shattering the illusion.
“Or… it might not.”
But, of course, it did.
Chapter Eighteen
“This is unacceptable,” Tarlton Porter said, pacing behind his desk. “What the hell were you thinking? You, prancing around like some air-headed female?”
Skye forced herself not to cower as she looked at her father. “I’m not … air-headed, and I don’t … prance. I love him.”
Her father waved the words away as if they were gnats at a picnic. “I thought you knew better, Skye. This kind of behavior? And one week before the symposium? Did you even stop to think how this would reflect on the firm?”
“This is … my fault? I didn’t ask to be … photographed. Followed. You’re punishing me for … living my life.”
For the last four days, she and Leo had been inseparable. They’d worked on the constitutional issues at the firm’s library or the sitting area in his suite. They’d practiced her speaking with an audience from both the firm and Jürgen’s security staff. They’d gone out for meals at both divey restaurants and high-end steak houses, with Skye always ordering to get in more practice. They’d had drinks at The Fix and mingled with her friends, all of whom accepted Leo as just one of the gang.
They hadn’t gone out of their way to draw attention, but they hadn’t tried to hide, either. True, they’d toned down the PDA, but there’d been hand-holding and a few kisses when they weren’t behind closed door. They hadn’t seen anyone taking snaps, but that didn’t mean folks weren’t watching. And considering the number of posts that had hit Twitter and other platforms, most royal watchers were very skilled at being sneaky. All the more impressive since Jürgen had stepped up security once the spotlight had landed on them.
“The man is a prince,” her father said, both stating the obvious and drawing Skye from her thoughts. “He’s used to a life of privilege. Of getting who he wants and what he wants.”
“Is he? Well, so are you.” She snapped the words out, fury making her react before thinking. But apparently her words hit the mark, because her father took a step backward.