“P-please,” she whispered.
He couldn’t stand the idea of her being cold or frightened.
Knowing it was a mistake, Prince Heath of Autumn climbed into bed with the woman he hoped would be his wife.
7
Willow
Willow begged herself to keep breathing as Heath crawled into bed with her, wrapping his body around hers and drawing her close as if to warm her.
The heat of his bare skin against hers made her feel as if her heart would beat right out of her chest.
“Gods,” he murmured. “You feel so good.”
Willow pressed herself closer still, as if her flesh could memorize his.
He gazed down at her, his eyes burning, jaws tense with need.
Slowly, so slowly, she reached out to stroke his cheek as she had when he was a bear.
He turned his head and pressed a searing kiss to her palm at the last moment.
Willow gasped.
“You are mine, princess,” he whispered.
When he kissed her again, it was on her lips.
Willow kissed him back as her heart crashed against her ribs.
He devoured her mouth, his tongue stroking hers, one hand tangling in her hair, the other clutching her close.
Willow whimpered into his mouth.
She had never wanted anything as much as she wanted this man.
He groaned in response and pulled back.
“You are mine,” he told her again, his voice husky with lust.
“Yours,” she echoed.
He kissed her again, hard enough to bruise her lips, but not hard enough to satisfy her.
She slid her hands up the hard planes of his chest, flattening her palms so as not to miss a millimeter of contact.
He dragged his mouth away from hers, sucking and biting at the tender place where her neck met her shoulder, then moving downward to flick and lap at her nipples with his clever tongue.
Willow moaned and arched her back.
He sucked one nipple hard, practically drawing her whole breast into his mouth. His other hand teased and rolled the other nipple.
Willow screamed with unsatisfied need.
Heath drew back, his eyes dark and filled with hunger. “I will not lay claim to you tonight.”
Willow nearly wept with frustration.
“But I will solace you,” he told her.
Then he was kissing his way down her belly, nudging her thighs apart, spreading her open and gazing down at her as if he were starving.
She closed her eyes and the next thing she felt was the yawning pleasure of his mouth on her sex.
Heath lashed her with his tongue, teasing her until she could hardly breath.
“Please,” she whimpered.
His tongue swirled and flicked in response, pushing her so close.
“I need you,” she wailed.
He growled against her opening and she trembled in response.
Her hips quivered as he continued his ministrations.
Willow was on the rack, desperate for relief.
“Please,” she cried out brokenly again as he eased a big finger inside her and began massaging her from the inside as he lapped and sucked.
Heath froze.
Then he was crawling up to her, caging her head in his arms, pinning her to the bed with his huge body.
“Is this what you want?” he growled.
“Please.”
It was the only word she could remember, so she repeated it, again and again.
Heath took himself in his hand.
She felt the rigid heat of him against her sex, pressing in so slowly she nearly fainted with anticipation.
There was a hint of pain as her body stretched to accommodate his girth, and then rippling waves of glorious pleasure.
“Ohhh,” she whimpered as she felt her body locking down on him, so close…
Hissing in a breath, he drew himself out and plunged into her again.
Willow wailed and sank her nails into his shoulders.
Heath seemed to surrender to his own need. He thrust into her again and again as she jogged her hips up to him, desperate for the spark that would light her up.
“Gods,” he groaned and slid a hand between them to toy so gently with her stiff little pearl.
Instantly, Willow felt herself flying.
The room around them disappeared and there was only Heath’s body and the wild moans that she realized were her own.
When her pleasure finally crashed down, she felt him swelling impossibly inside her, jetting out his own ecstasy as he cried out hoarsely.
In the wake of their wildness, there was a moment of utter peace.
Willow swore she could hear the heartbeat of the universe.
Then Heath collapsed on her chest, panting, murmuring words of praise.
She curled herself around him instinctively, as if she could make this fantasy real if she held on tightly enough.
8
Heath
Heath awoke to the sound of singing.
He opened his eyes, feeling happy already. If Ashe was singing, it meant she had no regrets.
And hopefully, she was feeling more herself today.
Instinctively, he looked down at his hand.
Tiny black vines had appeared, like a tattoo, reaching from his ring finger and winding down around his wrist.
The meaning was clear for all to see. A prince had claimed his princess last night. All was well.
He padded to the bathroom, cleaned himself up and pulled on a pair of soft suede breeches that hung low on his hips.
He left his shirt off, smiling to himself at the idea that it would stoke Ashe’s interest.
The kitchen was suffused with soft morning light and rich, delicious smells.
His darling one was dancing and singing as she pulled something out of the oven. She wore one of his shirts, which barely skimmed her hips.
The song was nothing he had heard before, something upbeat about not being able to wait, and it being fate, and her being his. As she swayed and sang, he caught glimpses of her scant undergarments.
He chuckled and she turned quickly.
“Sorry, lass,” he said. “I was just enjoying the view.”
“I made you breakfast,” she said, looking a little sheepish.
“That was a nice song you were singing,” he told her. “Just right for the situation.”
She laughed, a grateful expression on her face. “In my world, that was in the top one hundred for over a year.”
Gods in heaven she was still confused.
He’d hoped their joining would have brought her back to her senses.
“Baked French toast,” she said, bringing the heavenly concoction closer. “Where are your plates?”
“You’re still limping,” he noticed, although it wasn’t as bad as last night.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “But I do need to get in touch with my brother and the manager of the Barry White.”
“Your brothers,” he breathed.
Ashe’s brothers were the powerful princes of the Winter Kingdom. They would be furious when they heard he had claimed her without their blessing.
“Just one brother,” she said. “Although we tend to only talk on holidays, so I doubt he’ll even notice I’m gone. But my boss is going to be well pissed when I don’t show up for my shift.”
“We don’t have telephones here, but I’m sure we can get word to anyone you want,” he told her. “Also, there’s a woman who lives on my land that knows a bit about medicine. We’ll go visit her after breakfast and see about your ankle.”