Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance by Vivian Wood Page A
Authors: Vivian Wood
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different reasons. Her protest won’t make any difference now, not when I’m so close to her.
And her moan, well… Kit’s moans still play in my dreams, sometimes. They’re that powerful, and I don’t want to lose control like that.
Not here. Not with this girl, the one fucking girl I shouldn’t have and certainly shouldn’t want.
So I don’t let her respond. I lean down and press my lips to hers. Her lips are just as warm and soft and perfect as I remembered. The male hunger in me is already thinking about just how those lips would feel wrapped around my cock.
One of many things that I never got to find out, before. Two fumbling teenagers desperately in love, sneaking away once or twice a month during palace functions to fuck in a broom closet.
It’s a miracle she ever let me have her more than once, little as I knew about pleasing women back then.
Kit’s hand comes up to close over mine, which is when I realize that I’ve been cupping her full, heavy breast through her dress. She looks at me, our gazes lock, and suddenly I know that if I don’t get the fuck away from her, we’re going to end up in serious trouble.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I tell Kit. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She leans back, lipstick smeared, chest rising and falling against the thin fabric of her dress.
For a second, I almost give in. For a second, I know that we’re going to fuck, that it’s going to be amazing. I lean closer, closer, until my lips brush hers again, our eyes locked, neither of us able to look away.
I know that she will fill the void inside me, the black hole that’s been eating away at me since the day of the accident. Longer, maybe. Since the day she left.
She will take all of this away, if I put it all on her. If I’m enough of an asshole to do that…
“Fuck,” she whispers against my lips, tears welling in her eyes.
What the hell is she thinking now?
I don’t find out out, though. Kit blinks and looks away, and the spell is broken.
I drag in a breath I didn’t know I desperately needed and step back, shaken.
I turn and storm to the ensuite bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I strip and get in the shower, feeling angry at what I almost did, at the fact that I’m still hard for her.
If she hadn’t pulled back…
She may have just saved us both, more than she can know. I am ashamed now, embarrassed at my lack of control.
Around the one person in my life…
Fuck, the one girl who’s made me feel like this before, right before she ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
Our parents, the royal bullshit, none of that need factor into it. Our own history is reason enough.
I can’t go around snogging fucking Katherine Saville.
I can’t want her, not like this. Not so fucking desperately.
And above all else, I absolutely fucking cannot actually have her.
I shower in frigid water, standing under the icy spray until my heart stops pounding, until my cock ceases its demand that I bury myself inside Kit and fuck her senseless.
When I come out, she’s dressed in the flannel pajamas and sprawled across my bed, snoring softly. Her dress is on the floor, along with a pile of silky lingerie that I refuse to let myself examine.
Too far , I tell my libido, getting creepy now.
Though I usually sleep naked as the moment of my birth, I pull on a pair of boxer briefs. Better not to tempt fate, not where Kit’s concerned. I walk around the bed, trying to figure out how to get in without disturbing Kit.
Unfortunately for me, she’s passed out squarely in the middle.
Figures.
With a sigh, I turn out the lights and push back the covers, then adjust Kit until she’s not quite so in the way. She stirs in her sleep as I situate myself, turning and wrapping herself around me in a majorly unfortunate way.
Mostly unfortunate for my hard-on, which has returned in full force.
She mumbles something in her sleep. I shift, trying to get comfortable, and she giggles.
“What’s that now,
And her moan, well… Kit’s moans still play in my dreams, sometimes. They’re that powerful, and I don’t want to lose control like that.
Not here. Not with this girl, the one fucking girl I shouldn’t have and certainly shouldn’t want.
So I don’t let her respond. I lean down and press my lips to hers. Her lips are just as warm and soft and perfect as I remembered. The male hunger in me is already thinking about just how those lips would feel wrapped around my cock.
One of many things that I never got to find out, before. Two fumbling teenagers desperately in love, sneaking away once or twice a month during palace functions to fuck in a broom closet.
It’s a miracle she ever let me have her more than once, little as I knew about pleasing women back then.
Kit’s hand comes up to close over mine, which is when I realize that I’ve been cupping her full, heavy breast through her dress. She looks at me, our gazes lock, and suddenly I know that if I don’t get the fuck away from her, we’re going to end up in serious trouble.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I tell Kit. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She leans back, lipstick smeared, chest rising and falling against the thin fabric of her dress.
For a second, I almost give in. For a second, I know that we’re going to fuck, that it’s going to be amazing. I lean closer, closer, until my lips brush hers again, our eyes locked, neither of us able to look away.
I know that she will fill the void inside me, the black hole that’s been eating away at me since the day of the accident. Longer, maybe. Since the day she left.
She will take all of this away, if I put it all on her. If I’m enough of an asshole to do that…
“Fuck,” she whispers against my lips, tears welling in her eyes.
What the hell is she thinking now?
I don’t find out out, though. Kit blinks and looks away, and the spell is broken.
I drag in a breath I didn’t know I desperately needed and step back, shaken.
I turn and storm to the ensuite bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I strip and get in the shower, feeling angry at what I almost did, at the fact that I’m still hard for her.
If she hadn’t pulled back…
She may have just saved us both, more than she can know. I am ashamed now, embarrassed at my lack of control.
Around the one person in my life…
Fuck, the one girl who’s made me feel like this before, right before she ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
Our parents, the royal bullshit, none of that need factor into it. Our own history is reason enough.
I can’t go around snogging fucking Katherine Saville.
I can’t want her, not like this. Not so fucking desperately.
And above all else, I absolutely fucking cannot actually have her.
I shower in frigid water, standing under the icy spray until my heart stops pounding, until my cock ceases its demand that I bury myself inside Kit and fuck her senseless.
When I come out, she’s dressed in the flannel pajamas and sprawled across my bed, snoring softly. Her dress is on the floor, along with a pile of silky lingerie that I refuse to let myself examine.
Too far , I tell my libido, getting creepy now.
Though I usually sleep naked as the moment of my birth, I pull on a pair of boxer briefs. Better not to tempt fate, not where Kit’s concerned. I walk around the bed, trying to figure out how to get in without disturbing Kit.
Unfortunately for me, she’s passed out squarely in the middle.
Figures.
With a sigh, I turn out the lights and push back the covers, then adjust Kit until she’s not quite so in the way. She stirs in her sleep as I situate myself, turning and wrapping herself around me in a majorly unfortunate way.
Mostly unfortunate for my hard-on, which has returned in full force.
She mumbles something in her sleep. I shift, trying to get comfortable, and she giggles.
“What’s that now,
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