Forbidden Prince Page 9

  Fucking Finley. Bile rises in my throat at the very thought of Finley claiming Abi’s virginity — at the very thought of him even laying eyes on Abigail’s glorious naked body and tempting curves. I resist springing to my feet and throwing every goddamn object I own at the walls, picturing his head as they shatter. Grinding my teeth, I manage to choke out a few words. “I don’t know.”

  She places her palm against my cheek, a gentle touch that goes a long way in calming my anger. “A lot of guys would care, Henry. Here, at least. Not much has changed in Ostwyn, not with the nobles and the court.”

  I close my eyes and purse my lips, trying to get the unwelcome thoughts of Abi and Finley out of my brain. My stomach is clenched in hard knots and I’m growing physically ill at the images tormenting my imagination. “Can we change the subject?”

  “Of course,” she says, running her hand down my abdomen and to my cock, which is decidedly softer after having thought about Finley.

  “I believe we were talking about where to put this,” she says, brushing her fingers across my member, stirring me back to life.

  Her touch jostles me out of my darkness, a smile breaking over my lips. “Lord, woman, you have a one-track mind.”

  “You bring it out of me.”

  “That’s good to hear,” I say, giving her a wink.

  I hope that’s not all I bring out of her. These brief moments with Abi, they have become so much more than just a titillating distraction from the pomp and circumstance of the festival. They’ve become the highlight of my day.

  “So, are we doing this?” she asks, her eyes searching my face.

  I shake my head. I want every new experience she has with me to be pleasurable, to be what she deserves. As much as I crave her, she has a long list of things to experience first. “You should save that, too. It’s really putting the cart before the horse.”

  “Fine,” she says, giving me a playful pout. She shifts onto her side and props an elbow under her head, changing topics once more, probably because she sees that look coming over me again. “So, when your family isn’t hosting a huge festival, what do you do with your time, Henry? What’s the life of a prince like?”

  “It’s pretty boring, actually.”

  “Ha! That’s not what all the tabloids say.”

  I nod. “True. Until this spring, I suppose my life looked pretty exciting. The gossip rags certainly found it interesting, at least. Although, to be fair, I did give them quite a lot of headline material.” What I stop short of telling her, is that underneath all the scandalous headlines, it was an empty existence. I’ve not felt about it that way about it until lately, though. Not until she showed up.

  She cocks her head. “What happened this spring?”

  “Oh, I finally took it too far, I guess.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The royal council lost their patience with my shenanigans. One party too many, one headline too much.”

  She raises her eyebrows and gives me a pointed look. “I’m surprised it took them that long, Mr. Scandal. Was it the high-priced escorts or the Russian mafia on the yacht?”

  “Ha! I guess I deserve that.”

  “Well, if the duck’s wet…” she says, poking me in the arm. “So, what happened, though? What did they do?”

  “They called a private hearing and basically said if I didn’t get my act together, they’d support the outlandish Reformation Act that’s been quietly circulated by certain members of the court.”

  Abi frowns and raises up on her arm, looking concerned. “I haven’t heard about this. What would this Reformation Act do?”

  “Well, it would strip my family of power, for starters. It would allow the citizens to not only bring charges of impropriety, but also to call leaders by vote rather than royal decree. That was a sobering moment.”

  What I don’t mention is that I’m pretty sure fucking Finley is behind the Act. He’s been envious of my power and status since we were kids and angling to snatch at it. He’d love nothing more than to see my family dethroned and the Crown stripped from my future. A small handful of other misguided nobles and members of the court have latched onto the idea that any power taken from royal family must be dispersed elsewhere, so why not to them? The Reformation Act reeks of Finley’s handiwork.

  “Wow, I bet.” She flops back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I’m so glad I don’t have the expectations of a whole nation hanging over me. I can’t imagine how intense that weight must be. I only have the expectations of my family, and that’s quite enough.”

  “It’s not all fun and games, that’s for sure.”

  She rolls back over onto her elbow. “You know, Spencer never mentioned anything about this. Did you tell him to keep it under wraps?”

  “Actually, I’ve not mentioned it to anyone outside that hearing.”

  She looks at me with surprise. “Really? I’m the first one you’ve told?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why keep quiet about it?”

  “I’m not sure,” I say with a shrug.

  Abi grows quiet beside me and lays her head down on a pillow, staring at me, her eyes searching my face. She’s looking at me in a way that makes me feel like she’s not sure what to think, like maybe I’m hiding something dark and awful. I decide to tell her the truth.

  I roll over on my side to face her, laying my head on my elbow. “After the hearing, I did a lot of thinking. Soul-searching, I guess. Decided that either I become the King my country deserves, or I should support the Reformation Act, too. I guess I decided it was better to show that I’m trying, rather than just tell everyone. So, I’ve just been head down, trying to be a better man.”

  She nods solemnly. “I understand. It’s hard to come to the realization that other people’s lives are depending on you to do the right thing, and it’s even harder to actually do it.”

  I stare into her eyes, deep emerald pools of sincerity. There’s a sadness there that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed, but like before, she quickly moves past whatever it is and gives me a smile.

  “How’s that turning out for you?” she asks, looking cheerful once again. “Being out of the spotlight?”

  I take a long draw of breath and think about it. “It’s going pretty good, I guess. It has its upsides, like spending time with my parents. When my father steps down from the throne, they’ll be moving to the small estate at Highthorn, on the coast. My mother is already planning their social calendar, and my father wants to take up sailing. So, it’s been nice to be here with them before they go. But none of it is as exciting as my former media scandals, I assure you.”

  “That’s probably a good thing,” Abigail quips with a smile. “But I bet you miss it — maybe not the scandals,” she says quickly, “but the exciting stuff that lead up to them.” She shakes her head, looking embarrassed, and waves her hands in the air. “Forget I said that. Tell me what your days are like now.”

  I chuckle at her adorable awkwardness, but decide not to tease her about it. “Let’s see… I start every morning with a briefing from the advisory council, and it’s all downhill from there — piles of paperwork and dull meetings until dinner. Visits from dignitaries, travel to meet with other heads of state, a lot of political handshaking and socializing.”

  “Sorry, you’re not selling it mister. You’ll never convince me the life of a Crown Prince is too bad. I mean, for starters, you live in a massive palace.” She shakes her head and gives me a look of mock pity. “You poor thing.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, okay, you’re right. At the end of the day, I can’t really complain.”

  “And your evenings? Who warms your bed at night, Your Highness?”

  Her tone is light and teasing, but her eyes are searching my face uneasily, and I notice the way her stomach and jaw have tensed as the question hangs in the air. She needn’t worry. Save for the occasional short-term visitor arranged at Pierre’s doing because he’s convinced I’m going
to swing the pendulum too far the other way and become a celibate recluse, my evenings have been spent alone more often than not.

  “You do, my Lady.”

  Abi pokes me in the ribs. “You can’t give me a straight answer to save your life, can you?”

  “Now, why would I lie about a thing like that?”

  If only she understood. Being alone is unavoidable. I’ll be assuming the full duties of the crown soon, and there is no room for missteps — and me, of all people, will not be afforded the sort of privacy needed to date someone seriously. Not by the media who is waiting with baited breath for the tiniest shred of gossip to emerge from Pridemore Palace. TV show ratings and tabloid sales are undoubtedly decreasing now that I’m not writing the headlines for them. News of a romantic entanglement? The barest whisper that I might be dating someone? They’d circle like starving piranhas. I can’t afford even the appearance of a scandal if I’m to convince the country I’m worthy of becoming their next King.

  “Because they’re lined up, just waiting for their turn, but you’re too kind to tell me,” she replies.

  “Who is waiting?”

  “Every woman on earth, that’s who.”

  “There’s only one woman in my bed, Lady Abigail Lisbeth Strathmore,” I scold in a firm, loud tone. “And she’s been misbehaving, badly.”

  “Oh?” Abi’s cheeks grow pink, and she’s biting her bottom lip in that shy, excited way she does. “What will happen to her?”

  I grab the covers and throw them off her. She startles at the sudden movement and crosses her arms against her naked body as the covers fall to the floor.

  “It seems like some punishment might be in order,” I say.

  I pull her onto her stomach and run my hands down her torso and across her hips. I squeeze her ass and rub her cheeks firmly, watching with satisfaction as they turn a lovely pink color. She looks over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “What kind of punishment, my Lord?”

  “The slow, torturous kind,” I growl. “The kind that makes you beg for mercy and call out my name. Now, no more questions, or I’ll just make it worse.”

  “But what if — Ooooh!” she squeals, jumping as my hand makes contact with her right ass cheek, echoing a loud smack across the room.

  “What did I just say?” I admonish in a deep voice. The rosy hand print forming on her ass makes my cock pulse.

  She buries her face in the pillow. “Yes, my Lord,” she says, her voice muffled.

  I part her legs, gently but firmly, and curve a hand underneath her. She pushes her ass into the air, tilting her pussy toward me. My fingers quickly find their home between her thighs, and my cock stiffens as I massage her clit.

  “I’ve been terrible,” she breathes. “So bad, Your Highness. I deserve all the punishment.”

  Abi grabs at the bed, clutching the fitted sheet in her hands. She closes her eyes and makes little mewling noises, wiggling her ass as I stroke her.

  I love watching the expressions of ecstasy on her face. I lower my lips to the small of her back and kiss her sensually, tracing her spine with my tongue. I brush her hair to the side and gently suck and kiss her shoulder, moving up to her neck, her earlobe. She turns her face up to me, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. I touch my lips to hers, brushing them teasingly, and she tilts her head up more, reaching for me.

  “Henry…” she murmurs lustily. My name has never sounded so good.

  I kiss her sensually, flicking my tongue against hers in time with my fingers on her clit, then I go deep for a long, lingering kiss.

  I’m so hungry for her, my pulse is racing erratically, and my cock is already throbbing. I can’t do what I truly long for, but I’ll never rush her into it, no matter how badly I want to part those soft thighs wider and sink my cock into her hot, tight pussy.

  Instead, I’ll channel all my energy into her pleasure. I’ll make her come again and again, as often as I can, to show her how much I enjoy our time together, how much I need her here with me.

  If she can’t hear what I’m saying with my words, maybe some part of her will feel it in my touch.

  I lift her ass and grab a pillow, using it to keep her hips elevated. I guide her to shift forward until her pretty pink pussy is exposed to me as well and then nudge her legs wide open for a better view. With both hands, I spread her, my thumbs tracing up and down her folds.

  Lowering my chest to the mattress, I bring my lips to her pussy and lick. Abi moans and presses her delicious ass toward me. I lick once then twice, my tongue running up to her clit then down between her folds. I press hard against her and kiss.

  Abi moans out my name. “Henry. Henry, I want to touch you.”

  I run my hands up her smooth hips and flip Abi to her back. Her hair is disheveled, but she’s smiling with red-infused lips. She beckons to me with a single finger. As I rise, Abi reaches down and wraps her fist around my cock, sending pulses of pleasure through me as she strokes.

  Her skin is flushed as I bend down and kiss my way up her stomach and between her breasts. As I near her shoulders and neck, my cock rests over top of her pussy, and Abi rocks her hips. It’s seductive, and it’s irresistible. I work my hard shaft, encased in her palm, and it’s almost as though I’m inside her.

  Abi holds my cock tight, her own knuckles pressing against her as we thrust, her thumb rubbing along her clit. Our hips move as one, and soon, our breathing matches in intensity. I claim her lips, gasping between kisses. “Yes, yes, baby.”

  Words I don’t dare speak are on the edge of my lips as I kiss her deeply. It’s not my right to say them, it wouldn’t be fair to her, but God, it’s all I can do to not utter them right now, with her beautiful body beneath me, her emerald eyes heavy with desire. I’m hungry for more, hungry to savor every moment with her.

  The tension of holding back those three little words drives my hips faster. My climax is coming quickly, it never takes long with her touch, and the way her body twists and flexes beneath mine, I know she is right there with me. The tightening of my balls breaks my rhythm, and I stiffen with a groan.

  Abi cries out, “Ohhhh!” Sweat is beading between her breasts as she tips her head back into the pillows, her face flushed. She clamps tighter on my shaft as her body shakes.

  I shout my orgasm, the two of us coming as one for the first time in all these days. My muscles relax as I watch Abi, gorgeous as her lips transform from an O to a satisfied smile. Does she feel it? Did she hear the words in my heart?

  Chapter Thirteen

  ABIGAIL

  “I’ll have the roasted duck, and Lady Strathmore will have the gorgonzola salad with ahi tuna.”

  The waiter nods and reaches for our menus, but I hold up a finger. “Actually, I’ll have the braised lamb, with the garlic-whipped potatoes. And another martini. Make it a double.”

  Finley gawks at me as the waiter leaves the table. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a meat and potatoes type of woman.”

  “What type of woman do you take me for?” Because so far tonight, you haven’t asked me a single question about myself.

  “Well, you’re very pretty, of course.”

  Gee, that’s insightful. “Thanks.”

  I fiddle with the silverware, adjusting the spoons and forks until they’re lined up perfectly. I didn’t want to come on this date, but sadly, of all the suitors, Finley appears to be the most appropriate match out of the lot, even if he has come across as very full of himself so far this evening.

  “And you have lovely parents.”

  “I do, yes.”

  Finley reaches for the basket of freshly baked herb bread. “Would you care for some?”

  I shake my head. “No, thanks.” I slug down the rest of my first martini and look around for the waiter, hoping to see him en route with a refill. So far, although he’s bored me to tears, I’m grateful that Finley’s not a pompous jerk with outdated views like Horace the Horrible and very thankful he doesn’t have creepy alien-abduction fingers like Mr. Harridan. />
  He sets the basket down and looks at me for a long moment. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, at the dance?” he asks, his voice softer, quieter.

  I look up from fiddling with the silverware, surprised by both the change of tone and topic. “Perhaps we did.”

  “I need to apologize for that.”

  I fold my hands together and give him my most attentive gaze. “I’m listening.”

  “You are such a beautiful woman—”

  Oh, come on! You were so close! “Yes, you’ve mentioned that already.”

  “—and well, it’s not easy being in my position.”

  “What position is that?”

  “In competition with all these other men, each of us scrambling to get a moment alone with you. It makes us do stupid things, really — like trying to kiss you during a first dance together. We’re all so desperate to charm you, or at least, I am.”

  “I see.”

  “There I was, holding you in my arms, staring into your lovely eyes, and I just wanted nothing more than to kiss you. It took me forever to work up the courage, and then suddenly the song was ending, and I panicked. I shouldn’t have tried, though, it was too forward of me — I’m sorry about that.”

  “I appreciate your apology. And yes, I was taken aback. It wasn’t what I was expecting from a first dance with a stranger.”

  “I understand, it was very impolite of me.”

  “But then again,” I continue, taking a deep breath, “your explanation just now wasn’t what I was expecting, either. So, perhaps I’ve judged you too harshly from one encounter. I have to admit, from my initial impression of you, I would not have thought your ego would allow you to confess to having any weaknesses, not even something as simple as being nervous.”

  “Given what happened, I don’t blame you at all for that thinking. But if I may be equally bold and honest in my response — I usually am not the nervous type. You have that effect on me, my Lady. It’s quite unsettling and… well, more than a bit intriguing, too.”

  “Oh.” Now I’m blushing. I’ve never been great at taking a genuine compliment, but especially not from people I least expect one from.