His Princess: (A novella from the world of House of Payne) Read online

  “I know sex,” she babbled, but she couldn’t help it. He’d blown her mind with too much pleasure, so now babbling was all she had left. “I’ve had sex. This wasn’t sex. This was magical and addictive, and I think you might be some kind of wizard or something, because that wasn’t just sex. That was the most magical orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.”

  He was quiet a moment. “So you’re saying you like what I can do with my wand?”

  She blinked before she began to laugh. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him close and wondered if she’d ever been this happy. “I’m saying I love what you can do with your wand. Though I doubt you learned what you just did to me at Hogwarts.”

  “Nope, but I’ve got plenty of other tricks up my sleeve. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll show you what I mean.”

  “No problem,” she said so eagerly he laughed out loud.

  Chapter Nine

  The knock on the door in the next room brought Gus’s eyes open. The first rays of sunlight heralding a new day slanted in through the windows, and with a yawn he glanced over to the space on the bed beside him, only to find it empty.

  What the hell…?

  Half a heartbeat later, his awakening brain registered the murmur of quiet voices in the next room. Joelle, he thought, a crazy kind of warmth moving through him as memories of the night before crowded his head.

  His princess had turned out to be one hell of a surprise package, alternately having him in stitches and making him lose his damn mind with a lust as hot as the sun. He had no clue what to do with a classy, elegant woman who had streaking and stripping aspirations, but he did know one thing—she sure as hell wasn't boring.

  “Oh good, you're awake.” Dressed in a plush white terrycloth robe with the Tilted Windmill logo on its left chest, Joelle entered the room wheeling a linen-covered cart and smiling a smile that rivaled the rising sun. Then the savory scent of food hit him, and all at once he was starving. “I hope you don't mind that I ordered some breakfast for us. With the time difference, my stomach is telling me it's almost nine in the morning, and I should’ve gotten my booty going an hour ago.”

  “Food sounds good, but you sound even better.” He caught her by the waist the moment she wheeled the cart over to his side of the bed, pulling her down for a sleepy, thoroughly satisfying kiss. “’Morning, my lady.”

  “Good morning.” Her voice was a miracle of sunshine and bubbly energy, like she had somehow become the human embodiment of the finest champagne. “Aren't you hungry?”

  “Famished.” Keeping her within reach, Gus swung his legs over the side of the mattress, then guided her down until she sat on his lap. Perfect. “Let's see what you ordered for us so we can eat. And just so you know, once we're done with breakfast I've got another kind of hunger that needs feeding.”

  “Ooh, insatiable. I approve.” With a happy smile, she reached for the polished silver domes covering the plates. “I wasn't sure what you would like, so I may have gone a teensy bit overboard. Unless you're into eating a lot to get your day going?”

  He looked at her warily. “How much is a lot?”

  “I ordered some chicken crepes Florentine with hollandaise sauce. Then I thought you might not be the kind of guy who’s big on crepes, so I also ordered a wine, ham and Swiss cheese strata. Then I thought you might think strata’s just a weird way to have a savory bread pudding, so I threw in a couple orders of eggs Benedict, with sides of fresh fruit and yogurt parfaits. Oh, and lots of orange juice and French press coffee to round things off.” She smiled at him brightly, as if she were well aware that she’d completely lost her damn mind. “Since I haven't learned what you prefer, I went for a smattering of everything. Isn't learning about each other fun?”

  “Hell, yeah, it is.” Chuckling, he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck. Damn, he could breathe her in all day. “Are you always this batshit crazy, or is it something I bring out in you?”

  “I have a tendency to over-plan. And overthink. And overdo. Basically I’m just a bundle of descriptions beginning with the word over.”

  “I’m getting that.”

  “But going overboard on every last little thing comes from a good place. As long as I think it’s going to make someone happy, I do it. That’s why I paid for all this with my card, instead of putting this on the room,” she added, shocking him enough to make him sit up straight and stare at her. “I wanted this to be a totally happy moment, not an upsetting one, so I promise I didn’t rack up a huge bill on room service.”

  “I can pay for my own damn room service,” he growled, scowling at her. “No one takes care of me, Joelle. I’ve spent my entire life making sure I can take care of myself. You want to learn about me? That’s the one lesson at the top of the list. I fought like hell to get what I have so no one can yank it out from under me, so I make a point of never being indebted to anyone. No matter what, I always pay my own fucking bills. Understood?”

  “I understand.” The measured tone was calm, controlled, and completely devoid of the bright sunshine that had been there only moments before. She reached for the pot of coffee and a cup and saucer, and the action brought her off his lap. She poured a cup, then walked away with it to settle in a chair that faced the bed. “I also understand that it should be clear my actions were not meant to offend. I had a whim, so I’m the one who should pay for that whim. If you’re too offended by my actions, by all means, don’t eat anything I ordered. May I suggest you order your own food so that you won’t feel beholden to me financially? I wouldn’t want you to starve.”

  Shit. “I’m just saying I can pay for fucking room service.”

  “I heard you perfectly.”

  Well, that put him deeper in the hole. Maybe he should stop digging before he buried himself completely. “You know I grew up rough, even before I wound up living at St. Ambrose,” he began grudgingly while she reached out to the cart for cream and sugar. “My old man… Let’s just say that selfish bastard showed me how bad life can get when you fall into debt and can’t get out. Your parents are supposed to be your protectors, the foundation that your whole world is built on, right? Well, my world was built on shit because of that useless assclown father of mine, but he taught me one life lesson I’ve never forgotten—being indebted to anyone is the scariest goddamn thing there is. In every relationship I’ve ever had, whether personal or professional, I don’t take a fucking thing from anyone that I haven’t earned. It’s just not in me.”

  “I see.” Thoughtfully, she sipped her coffee, her golden legs crossed and platinum blonde hair shining in the early morning light. “So, am I to take it that your response just now was a knee-jerk reaction to being given something?”

  The way she worded it made him smile. “That’s a pretty posh way of putting it, but yeah. That was definitely a knee-jerk response on my part.”

  “Because instinctively you feel I might try to coerce something from you now that I’ve bought you breakfast.”

  “You bought a lot of breakfast.” He glanced at the laden cart. “Like, a lot.”

  She waved that comment away. “The point is, you now think that I’m going to demand something from you.”

  Oy. “Look, I don’t think that—”

  “But you should,” she cut in, shocking him into stillness. “I’m most definitely going to demand something from you, and feeding you was part of my diabolical plan. I need you to fuel up with all this food so that you can show me what other sex positions you’re partial to. We only hit a couple last night, but I’m sure there must be more.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. “You might be learning about me, but I’m doing the same with you. And you know what I’m learning?”

  She looked at him over the rim of her cup. “What?”

  “You’re never going to stop surprising me. Honest to God, I don’t know if being unpredictable is a good thing or a bad thing, but I like it.” He reached over and poured himself a cup of coff
ee, picked it up and toasted her with it. “A lot.”

  “Good. Now eat up, because I have every intention of keeping you as my sex slave, at least for most of the morning. Then I want to go on a tour of the winery and potentially get smashed on their exquisite Malbec wine over a late lunch. You don’t have any problems with these plans, do you?”

  “None at all,” he chuckled, and reached for some eggs Benedict.

  “Admit it,” Joelle said, breathless with anticipation. “Sixty-nine is one of your favorite positions.”

  “My favorite thing to do is fuck you senseless, lady, so I don't give a damn what position I have to get into to do it. Now,” Gus went on, lying back against the pillows while she straddled his torso, her back to him while she faced his fiercely erect cock, “scoot that sweet cunt back to where I can get my tongue on it.”

  With a thrilled little sound she did as he instructed, straddling his head while leaning forward to rest her chest lightly on his torso. She braced one hand against the rumpled bed, while the other one closed around his stiffened dick, her eyes on its dark, purpling crown.

  Oh, yes. This was going to be fun.

  Their whole day had been fun. After the bump they had hit over breakfast—a bump that had startled her enough to wonder about the folly of flying halfway across a continent with a man she barely knew—they’d alternately made love, and worked their way through the enormous breakfast she’d ordered. Clearly the man was a bit of a control freak, but he'd indulged just about every whim she had, post-bump, so she'd been in high spirits as they at last left their bungalow to tour the winery.

  The sprawling property running along the river truly was the slice of heaven she had originally called it. The early autumn sun seemed somehow softer as they watched workers harvest grapes for what the locals called the “crush.” Most of the Valley's grape harvest happened at night, when the sugar levels in the fruit were at its peak during the cooler temperatures. It was only during the daytime that humans cut grape clusters from the vines so that the tourists could watch how it had once been done in the old days. Then those grapes wound up in half-barrels, awaiting bare feet to do what had been done since humans first learned to make wine. Something must have shown in her expression what she thought of that, because in about a heartbeat Gus was insisting that she get up in one of those vats so she could do the Napa Valley Stomp.

  As weird as it had been to basically stand in a half-barrel of squishy, sticky food, she’d reveled in how Gus had laughed as he watched her gingerly squish her way around while the grapes under her feet slowly turned to sweet-smelling mush. She hadn't gotten to know him nearly as well as she wanted to, but she had the distinct impression that laughter and joy had never been a huge part of Gus's life.

  If it took squishing food with her bare feet to bring some laughter and joy into his life, then by damn, that was a small sacrifice for her to pay.

  And speaking of bringing him joy…

  With a smile she knew he couldn't see, Joelle carefully lowered her head and ran her tongue along the heated, crushed-silken side of his penis. She thrilled at how she could feel all the muscles in his body stiffen, and the way his cock twitched in her grasp had her smiling all the wider. When she saw his toes curl in response to her erotic ministrations, it was all she could do to keep herself from running a victory lap around the bungalow.

  “You know what?” she said huskily, stroking a hand up and down along his hardened flesh, squeezing gently every now and again until she heard a broken growl of pleasure. “I happen to love this particular position with you, but it does have a logistical problem that goes along with it. I can't watch your expression from where I am now. Come to find out, I love watching you when you come. Maybe if we did this in front of some mirrors—”

  Her rambling cut off with a sharp gasp when he brought her down to meet his seeking, clever mouth.

  Oh, wow.

  The message of no more talking got through to her loud and clear. She gasped when his tongue slid along her intimate channel to her clit, before she tried to focus on stroking his shaft while laving its darkened crown with her tongue.

  Beautiful.

  As her muscles tensed and the exquisite sensation of pleasure began to seep into her every nerve, she tried to give him just as much as he gave her. She could only hope she was at least in the zip code of that goal, because the magic he was creating with that mouth of his had her rushing toward the jagged edge of no return. She moved, deepening his penetration into her mouth, stroking him with hand and lips and tongue, sucking as quickly as she could to heighten his pleasure.

  She had to get him there, fast, because she was about to lose it.

  The trickle of salty goodness down the back of her throat heralded a new intensity in his touch. Cupping his hands over her ass, he pulled her down hard against his mouth, ignoring the care she took not to put too much pressure on him.

  “Grind into me, lady,” he grated, and she loved how breathless he sounded. “I need that pussy now.”

  Wordlessly she obliged him, letting him guide her to whatever it was he wanted while focusing her attention on milking his cock with her mouth. She could feel the wild throb of his heart against her tongue, and she knew it matched the frenzied beat of her own as she soared ever closer to that pinnacle of bliss.

  Then his mouth closed over her clit and sucked hard, and she lost it completely. Wildly she ground down onto his mouth while moaning against his cock. Hot liquid spurted down her throat as he thrust into her, and a giddy sense of triumph spilled through her even as she came so hard she thought it would never end.

  She wasn’t sure how long it was before the tension in her body eased and her mind returned to reality, but she did know she came back to herself utterly changed. She collapsed, half on the bed and half on Gus, and rolled with him when he turned them onto their sides. Then he moved her until her head rested against the pillows beside his, his arms holding her and his legs tangling with hers.

  Wrapped up in him.

  That’s what she was.

  It was exactly where she wanted to be.

  “We’re going to kill ourselves doing this someday.” His voice was barely recognizable, breathless and rough around the edges. “But I’m good with that. At least we’ll die happy and naked.”

  “What a way to go,” she murmured around a yawn. “What do you say we take a quick power nap before heading over for dinner? They’re doing a big dinner party to celebrate the harvest.”

  “I say we order more room service, because I want to make a meal of you in private.” He brushed his mouth over the tip of her nose before grinning at her. “One thing—I’ll do the ordering this time around. You can’t be trusted.”

  “I think I did a brilliant job in ordering our breakfast,” she laughed, then glanced at the bedside table when her phone went off. “Oops. Alice. I forgot to call her to let her know you haven’t kidnapped me.”

  “Take it while I order us some food. Anything you don’t like?”

  “I can’t eat walnuts, they make my mouth itchy. Beyond that, I love everything.” Giving him one last kiss, she rolled to her side of the bed and snatched up her phone while he went in search of a menu. “Hey, Al. Everything’s fine. I swear, I haven’t been kidnapped.”

  “Al? Who’s Al?” came the familiar voice of her immediate boss, digital fashion editor, Heidi Meadows. “And why would Al think you’ve been kidnapped?”

  “Heidi.” As if her spine worked on a spring, Joelle snapped to a sitting position and checked the number. Ugh. Clearly Gus had fried her brain. “Sorry about that. I just blindly answered the phone, thinking it was my foster sister because it’s Saturday night, and no one from work calls me over the weekend… Hey, wait. Why are you calling me? I don’t think you’ve ever called me on a Saturday, much less at night.”

  “That’s because I’ve never been this desperate before. Do you have your assignment ready?”

  She blinked. “Do you mean my assignment that’s d
ue on Wednesday?”

  “Please don’t bust my chops on this, Joelle. You’re usually way ahead of the game when it comes to getting your assignments done, so just answer the damn question. Is your assignment ready for submission or not?”

  Yikes. “Almost. It’s been shot and edited, but it doesn’t have any music or voice-over work, and I certainly can’t complete that now, when I’m having a weekend away in California.”

  “What? What the hell are you doing in California?”

  That made her brows shoot up. “Enjoying my life. Something I’m very much entitled to do on a weekend, Heidi.”

  “Right, I’m sorry. It’s just I’m in a bit of a bind here.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is that I’m surrounded by total flakes and idiots, and you’re the only one I can rely on, but you’re in fucking California.”

  “Heidi, what—”

  “I just got a text from Fjord—by the way, remind me to never again hire anyone who names themselves something as stupid as Fjord. Long story short, she said she won’t be able to get her assignment in, which is due by noon tomorrow so it can go out on Monday. Claims she’s been arrested while protesting outside the Chicago Tribune for some social justice warrior shit, and that she was texting me from the back of a police cruiser. How she was doing that while handcuffed, I don’t know, or care. All I care about is that her piece was supposed to go out on Monday, and now I have absolutely nothing to put in its place.”

  “Don’t you have something on file waiting in the wings for just such a problem?”

  “Are you telling me how to do my job?”

  No, but that was how Joelle would have done it. “I’ll take that as a no, which also explains why you called me.” The Monday slot was one of the hottest at Buzzword, thanks to people fighting the inevitable workweek grind. Her Thursday slot was okay, but she’d get a lot more traffic if she could hit the Monday crowd as well. “Would I still have my Thursday slot in addition to this Monday?”