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Royally Not Ready(61)

Author:Meghan Quinn

When outside, instead of going to the left like we always do, I go to the right.

“That’s not where we normally walk,” he says.

“I know. I want some new scenery. Plus, didn’t you say there were hot springs up this way?”

“We’re not going in the hot springs.”

“Okay, Keller.” Smiling up at him, I walk ahead and hold my arms out as I spin around. “Isn’t it beautiful out?” I ask. When I fix my eyes back on him, he’s not looking at my face, but rather my torso. I inwardly smile. “The perfect time for a walk.” Walking backwards, I keep my eyes on his as I stretch my arms above my head and say, “Feels good to just stretch out, you know?”

He pauses mid-stride, no longer following me.

“Everything okay?” I blink innocently at him.

“Lilly, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Stretching, what does it look like?”

“It looks like after that display at the table, you’re continuing your goal to provoke me.”

“Is it working?” I smile at him.

“You know damn well it is.”

Ooo, I did not expect him to be so honest about it.

Nor did I expect him to be so angry, but in a hot way, like he’s about to devour me kind of way.

And as he closes the space between us, his strides eating up the distance, I realize that maybe I’ve provoked him a little too much.

I think we can all safely agree that my plan to get him to think about something other than his dream has worked, but it also might have backfired, from the looks of it.

When he reaches me, his hands fall to my hips as he holds me tight. His large body shadows me, enveloping me in his strength.

“That display back there was pathetic,” he says.

Pathetic? Here I thought he was just about to ravish me, not insult me.

“Excuse me? I think I did a pretty good job.”

“Not for the right reason. You were behaving because you were trying to get under my skin. You weren’t trying because you want to do this for the country. And now, with this shirt?” His hands travel up my ribcage, and the feel of his large palms against my skin squeezes all the air out of my lungs. “You don’t care about this country, this role, you just care about falling into my bed.”

My eyes narrow. “That’s not true. I care—”

His hands slide up even higher, his thumbs just below my breasts now.

“All you want is to get under my skin.” He lowers his head so his lips are at my ear, as his thumbs stroke the underside of my breasts, causing me to nearly melt in his grasp. “Guess what, Lilly. You’ve been under my goddamn skin since the moment you showed up at the Moxy in that dress. You don’t have to keep trying, you’re there. You’re buried in my goddamn veins, pumping my blood, causing me to go fucking crazy in my head because I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman as much as I want to fuck you.”

His nose caresses my cheek as I attempt to not faint from his confession. Well, this has taken a delicious turn.

What I wouldn’t give to be fucked by him—controlled by him. Possessed. Just like the way he’s holding me now. I want more of it, I want him to tell me how he wants me, what he wants me to do, where he wants me.

I want to feel his lips on my body, his scruff on my skin, his hands feeling up my small breasts.

“Then fuck me,” I say.

“That’s exactly what I’m not going to do,” he says, dropping his hands from my ribs. “Because you aren’t here to be fucked by me, Lilly. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I spent the amount of time I want to spend, spreading your legs and burying my cock inside your sweet pussy. And my job, to prepare you for a possible future role here, is paramount. I refuse to be sidetracked or seen as a joke.”

He pushes me away as a gasp falls past my lips, a stark chill running up my spine. A joke? Sidetracked?

Turned on, irritated, and ready to maul the man, I ask, “Why can’t it be both ways? Why can’t we do both? We clearly want each other. Why are you denying it?”

“Because once you’re in my bed, I won’t be able to let you out. Because I have less than two fucking months to get you ready to be a queen. Because when it comes down to it, there’s royalty in your blood, not in mine.”

“Who cares about that?”

“Everyone,” he shouts, holding his arms out. “You don’t get it. You grew up in America, it’s different there. There’s an expectation of royalty here, and when it comes down to it, there’s a definitive class difference between you and me. So, I’m not going to go there with you, Lilly. I’m not going to torture myself with a taste of you, knowing it’ll go nowhere.”

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