Who Will Save Your Soul: And Other Dangerous Bedtime Stories by Skye Warren

Author:Skye Warren [Warren, Skye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance, Anthology
Publisher: Skye Warren
Published: 2020-04-27T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The prince knelt beside her and awakened her with a kiss. And the enchantment was broken.

Finn

I emerge from sleep, but only barely.

Faint orange light dances through the shadows, as if I’m underwater, at the bottom of an ocean. I feel sluggish but also warm and cocooned and I don’t want to wake up, because it will end this. I don’t even know what this is, only that it’s fleeting.

Managing to crack one eye open, I check that the baby is asleep.

Then I close my eyes and focus on my other senses.

A sweet feminine smell manages to somehow be sleepy and sexy at the same time. How long has it been since I’ve had a woman beside me? So long, too long since I felt the cushiony softness against his own hardness, and fuck, I’m rock hard.

I don’t feel worried though, not this time. Just relieved.

Relieved to feel like a man again, a man fully alive, one who gets morning wood and uses it with the soft, sleepy woman next to him. She makes little snuffling noises of almost-awake as I shift her in my arms, as I position my body above hers.

And then—thank you, Jesus—she pulls me down closer, harder, touching me everywhere. I push my knee between hers in question; she parts hers in answer.

I hitch between her legs, so damned comfortable I could spend forever, just there, the aching ridge of my cock against the heat of her sex, my body cradled within hers. She moans, surprise cutting that sound short when I bend my head and put my lips to her neck. So soft, so sweet. She bucks against me, jerkily, as if she can’t help it, as if he dragged her half-willing into the madness I’m living in, where everything was heat and sex and the blessed feel of skin on skin, and I don’t have to think, didn’t have to mourn or pretend.

Only this, only lips beneath mine, and hips beneath mine, and soft, plush skin in my hands to mold and to caress. I find her nipple through silky fabric, rubbing it gently with my thumb. It hardens, and a deep sense of possession forms inside me.

Mine. This body is mine. This woman is mine.

I might go crazy with needing to be inside her, but something holds me back. Some sense that it would break the spell, that maybe she would turn to ash in his hands if I dare to push for more or even look, and so I hold myself suspended in torment, savoring every second.

But I can’t hold out, not with her little pants against his neck or her not-so-gentle hands scrabbling at his back. I rock against her, incensed and senseless. She shuddered beneath me in a small, early climax and it’s too much. Too fucking sexy to bear.

I freeze that way, suspended on ice, my body rigid with denial.

“Jessica?” he asked hoarsely.

I need her to do more than take me, to accept this. I need her to want it as badly as I do.

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