A Prince on Paper Page 81

“We’ve only been focusing on me during our time together. I’m not going to look a gift fox in the mouth, and I appreciate you taking things slowly, but . . .”

Her hands went to cup her breasts, and he thought she was hiding them, but no. She teased her own nipples as she arched her back, as if in offering, and desire slammed down onto him like an anvil dropped from the sky.

She’d been sure of what she liked and didn’t like from the first time he’d touched her, but this was a new directness in her.

She gave him that smoldering look as she lay back down and began shimmying to tug up the negligee, but then her hands stopped moving and she threw back her head, giggling.

“This played out much more seductively in my head. I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she said, tears of helpless laughter in her eyes. “This always goes so much more smoothly in films. I feel kind of ridiculous.”

The sound of her laughter wound around Johan’s heart, and his cock, too, and squeezed. There was no fear in her—a bit of awkwardness, yes, but she met his eye as if she knew that he would never make fun of her. That he would share in the moment with her.

She trusted him, as she had from the start.

“You’re doing just fine,” he said, his grin wide and real despite his fatigue.

“I’d be doing better if you helped me,” she said, and Johan didn’t need any further prodding.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked because he needed to know, and because he was selfish and what he wanted was to hear her say naughty things.

Her gaze dropped to the bulge outlined by his sweatpants. “I’ve only felt you. I want to see you. Hold you.”

Oh là là là là.

“We’ll get to that.”

He reached out and gripped her leg just above the knee, then smoothed his hand up her thigh. When he reached the hem of her negligee, he pushed up, gathering it with a hook of his thumb and carrying it up as his hand splayed on her stomach.

He could feel the flutter of her quick breaths against his palm and her heartbeat against his fingertips, but in her eyes there was nothing but certainty—and he’d give her nothing but pleasure.

It struck him then, that he’d never told her something.

“You’re beautiful, Nya.” He let his other hand trace over the negligee, then up through the valley between her breasts, seeing how she shivered as they grazed her neck before cupping her face. “I don’t think I’ve said that before because, well, sometimes I forget to say things that are obvious.”

The certainty in her eyes dimmed and she looked away, but then quickly met his gaze again. “Thanks. And you’re nice.”

This was why he’d made the biggest mistake of his life in inviting her this close to him. He’d expected her to talk about his looks, too, if she returned his compliment. It was easy for people, the go-to, and she clearly thought he was attractive, but that wasn’t why she was in his bed. She thought he was nice, and she wouldn’t let him or anyone else think otherwise.

“I can be,” he admitted. “To people I care about.”

Her eyes widened and before she could ask him anything he leaned down and kissed her. He licked into her mint-sweet mouth, his right hand sliding down from her stomach to the V of curls and his middle finger seeking out her slick clit. She gasped as he began to rub, her hands coming up to his shoulders and gripping him hard and her hips lifting upward.

She shifted her body a bit, sliding up on the bed, and he gentled his touch until she had repositioned herself beneath his hand, exactly where she wanted him to touch her. She was a woman who knew what she wanted.

She wants you.

He increased the pressure, massaging deep circles over her clit as her fingernails dug into his shoulders and her moans feathered his lips.

“That feels good,” she whispered. “You know exactly how to touch me. Can you—can you feel how wet I am?”

Johan almost came right then because he knew she was saying these things for him. She’d asked him what he liked before, and she’d remembered, and now each time they came together she pushed herself further from her comfort zone.

She was slick beneath his hand, and he adjusted it to slide his ring finger into her hot opening, groaning as she squeezed around him.

“Yes. You’re wet and hot and tight, Nya.”

She shuddered and thrust her hips up hard—she pushed herself because she liked dirty talk, too.

He moved his mouth, kissing along her jawline and scraping his teeth along her neck. When one of her hands left his shoulder he barely noticed—until it slipped into the waistband of his sweatpants and gripped his cock lightly.

“Does this feel good?” she asked as she began stroking him, her hand soft and warm.

“Yes,” he choked out.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” She nipped his ear—something he’d done to her before—and Johan shuddered hard.

“Squeeze me as you stroke.”

Her fingers flexed and then her grip firmed around his shaft. Her movement was jerky but there was no hesitation. “Like this?”

“Yes, like that. Just like that, Nya.” His hips bucked as pleasure shot up his spine.

“Oh goddess,” she moaned, her hand stilling as her back arched up off the bed and her channel clenched his fingers.

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