Really Unusual Bad Boys. MaryJanice Davidson

bedroom. I’m a nobody. I can’t even get a Gold Card back home.”

      “The king’s will is our will.”

      “Still.” But she shrugged and climbed under the covers. The bed was delightfully soft and she sank into it a good eight inches. “Ahhhhhhhh, I could get used to this.”

      “That is good.”

      “What?”

      He bent over her. It was so creepy, the way he could cross a room without making a sound. “Good even, my lady.” He kissed her on the forehead, like a brother.

      “Night, Damon. Thanks again for everything today.”

      He kissed her on the cheek like a brother.

      “Uh—good night.”

      He kissed her on the mouth, not remotely like a brother. His tongue swept inside and his hand was on the back of her neck—hard, possessive. She figured she should kick or gouge or something, but he smelled great and he was unbelievably gorgeous and, hey, he was a prince, too. What the fuck.

      She kissed him back. She rubbed her tongue against his and clutched his shoulders, which were thrumming with strain. He made a noise, deep in his throat, quite like a growl, and then she was tugging him toward her.

      “Don’t just stand there,” she growled. “Tuck me in.”

      “It is forbidden,” he said soberly. “You are an honored lady and guest.” Still, he was climbing under the sheets with her. “Also, you are an excellent wine.”

      “Thanks. You’ve got some pretty good mojo yourself going on, Damon.” This was difficult to say without breathing hard, as his hands were stroking over her breasts, her stomach, and were now easing her thighs apart. “You’d…uh…better get lost before I do something really crazy.” Killing myself was nutty enough. “I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

      “Well. There are ways and ways.” She couldn’t see him anymore; he had ducked beneath the covers. She could feel his mouth close over one of her nipples, and she groaned. His mouth—and his body!—were a few degrees warmer than hers, and he felt like the most sensual electric blanket ever imagined.

      “Sure, but also, I’m not the kind of girl who fucks on a first date. Not that we’ve been on a date,” she added breathlessly as he licked the cup of her bellybutton. “But you know what I mean.”

      “I do not.” She could barely hear him; he was muffled against her flesh. “But I will find out.”

      She put her hands on his shoulders, marveling at the firm feel of his muscles beneath her palms. Then he ducked lower, and she felt his thumbs on her cunt, parting her, and then felt him take a long, slow lick.

      She nearly leapt off the bed. His tongue was raspy and felt utterly, unbelievably delightful. He licked her like a cat lapping up a bowl of cream, and she squirmed around to offer him better access. Her legs were spread so wide she was practically doing the splits. She could hear what sounded like a throaty growl…then she realized he was purring, purring while he licked and sucked and licked some more.

      When his tongue rasped over her clit again and again, she crammed her fist against her lips—mindful of the king sleeping next door—and groaned wildly against her fingers. Her uterus clenched and she felt waves of pleasure race down her limbs as she came…and came…and came.

      He crawled back up and she reached down, groped for his cock, and stroked the delicious long velvety length. His eyes rolled up as she tightened her grip and pumped, and in a matter of seconds she could feel him spurting.

      “Good thing we didn’t actually have sex,” she chortled as he collapsed over her. “Ew. Don’t even think about making me sleep on the wet spot.”

      “I will have servants change the bedclothes,” he groaned.

      “No, forget it. It’s late. Besides, this bed is huge. I’ll just slide six feet over and sleep there.”

      “Perhaps I will, also.”

      “Perhaps you should get your ass back to your own bed.” Mutual coming was one thing, but she wasn’t about to actually sleep with a near-stranger. She did have some standards.

      He groaned again and stood, then staggered toward the doorway. “I leave you then, my Lady Lois of the Magical Fingers.”

      “As a nickname, that leaves a lot to be desired.” Her eyelids were already drooping. It had been a helluva day.

      “Until tomorrow, Lady Magical Fingers.” He grinned at her and left, closing the door curtain behind him.

      She slept deeply, sweetly…and without pain.