Broken Prince (The Royals #2)

“Since I met you.” Oh man. If any of my friends were around right now, they’d start a statewide search for my balls. But I don’t care. I mean every word I’m saying.

Ella cradles my head between her hands. “Well, I don’t need any of that from you,” she whispers, her lips inches away from mine.

“I’ll do anything. Tell me what you need.”

“You. Just you. It’s always been you.”

She kisses me. Her lips press softly against mine, sealing the promise she’s made to me. That she’s mine and always has been. From before we even met, she was mine and I was hers. I fought it too long, but I’m giving in now. I’m all in now.

I kiss her back, driving her down to the blanket so that I can feel the full length of her body against mine. It’s innocent at first. I don’t rip her jersey off or stick my hand down her pants, even though I’m dying to do both. We just kiss each other, until she starts to move restlessly underneath me.

Her legs part and I settle between them, pressing my hard-on against her welcoming softness. Her hands leave my head and fumble with the bottom of my shirt. I reach one hand behind me and whip it off.

“You’re not going to get cold?” she asks, half teasing, half serious.

“I don’t think I’d be cold if it started to snow.” I grab her hand and press it to my chest. “I’m burning up.”

Her fingers curl against my chest, exploring carefully. I know she doesn’t have much experience, but I’ve never been this hot before, never been so close to the edge. Not even my first time. I could pluck her hand away and put an end to this with the excuse that my control is whisper thin, but I want her to touch me.

I brace myself over her, using my elbows for support, and let her explore. Her fingers count every rib. Her hands measure my chest and I take caveman-like pleasure in how big I am compared to her. Her palms smooth over my shoulders and spread along my back. I tremble over her, a wild animal ready to spring free, just waiting for her signal.

Fuck. This girl is wrecking me.

She uses my body as a lever and pulls upward to flick her tongue against the frantic pulse at my neck.

It’s too much. I roll over and drop onto my back, my chest heaving as if I’d run a marathon.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, snuggling down beside me.

I thread her fingers through mine. “Talk to me. Help me settle down.”

“You sure you don’t want me to help you some other way?”

That makes me smile. “Later. Right now, I want to lie here and enjoy being next to you.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Like what?”

She goes quiet for a moment and then, “Like my heart is about to burst.”

“You make it sound like I’m killing you.”

“It feels like that sometimes. Sometimes…the way you make me feel scares me.”

My fingers tighten on her hand. “It’s the same for me, and no, it’s never been like this before.”

“Not even with Abby?” I can tell she regrets the question—that it slipped out before she could stop it.

I tilt my head to the side so I can look at her face. “Not even with Abby. Do you really want to talk about her?”

“Kind of.” She makes a face. “But we don’t have to.”

I tug her closer so there’s not a sliver of space between us. I don’t like talking about Abby with her. Not because I have feelings for Abby but because I didn’t have strong enough feelings for her and it makes me feel guilty.

“I started seeing Abby after my mom died,” I admit. “I never had a steady girlfriend before that. Just the occasional hookup. I wasn’t like East, but I fooled around here and there, lost my virginity to a senior when I was fifteen. After Mom died, I was kind of…crazy in my head. Lots of bad shit went on upstairs…” I pause and then say ruefully, “Still is, I guess, but Abby came along and she reminded me of my mom. I thought being around her would be like my mom was back.”

“Did that work?”

“For a while, but then...I didn’t miss Mom as much. I mean, I still missed her, but Abby wasn’t ever gonna be someone who kept my interest. She’s too quiet. Too…passive, I guess.” I was bored shitless around her, but that sounds rude and I don’t want Ella to start thinking I’m an asshole again. “I broke up with her around Christmas. You realize that there’s no good time in the fall to break up with someone? It’s nuts. Gid always said you can’t break up with a girl before Winter Formal and not right before any holidays. But I did it anyway, because delaying it wasn’t good for either of us. She wasn’t happy. She kept coming around even after I ended it, and the more she came after me, the more I regretted dating her in the first place.”

Ella rubs her cheek against my shoulder. “Why do you sound so guilty right now?”

“Because I feel guilty,” I grumble.

“Well, you shouldn’t. You’re not responsible for her. As long as you were upfront with her, didn’t make promises you didn’t intend to keep, her hurt feelings are something she has to deal with.”

“You’re the only girl I’ve made promises to,” I say gruffly.

“Make me a promise right now.”