Page 11 of Praise Me: Princess
“Nothing gets through me,” he says in my ear. “Nothing.”
My pulse slows before it can spike.
And I wonder what exactly I’m going to do without him when he leaves.
six
. . .
Conrad
If I didn’t know better,I’d think I was having a fucking heart attack.
She reminds me of her intention to marry a prince while I’m on top of her, seconds from kissing her mouth for the first time? Jealousy is causing my blood to pump at a rate that rivals the speed of sound, along with the need to kill. I can’t be blamed when her mouth is a masterpiece up close. An honest to God masterpiece. It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt against my lips and I could have lain there on her pliant body, teasing and testing it for hours. Days.Weeks.
And it’s more than her mouth.
More than her luscious body.
Her perseverance and self-sacrifice and honesty has untied something in my chest.
I’m almost disoriented by the flood of emotions she unleashes in me.
For the first time in a long time, I’m uncertain of what to do. What the future holds. I am the highest ranking of soldier, but I am not a prince. Not a royal. At the moment, I’m a glorified bodyguard, and that ranks far below princess, for god’s sakes.
She’s the futurequeen.
On top of that, I’ve been rude to her since making her acquaintance. Rude is my default. I don’t know how to be anything other than an asshole. Still, she’s making me want to…try and be a little nicer? See if I can make her…smile? Be happy?
What the fuck are you trying to do? Woo a princess?
The thought of it—and the potential of failure being so high—is making me sweat.
“Are you all right, Commander?” Greta asks when I lift her out of the SUV by the waist, settling her in front of me. “You seemed upset.”
“I’m not upset,” I snap.
“Oh.” Her eyes are drawn to the perspiration at my hairline. “Are you sure?”
This is her first time leaving the palace grounds since her kidnapping—and torture— and she’s worried aboutme. “Did you think I’d be able to lie on top of you for so long without…reacting?”
She blinks up at me innocently. “Reacting?”
The princess is a goddamn virgin.
Of course she is. As though I need another reason to feel viciously protective of her.
“Never mind me, Greta,” I say, forcing my voice to soften, despite the aching dick in my pants. Despite the sudden awareness that I like her very much and she’s not available to me. “How are you?”
“A little nervous.”
“Yeah?”
“A lot nervous.”
“Okay, we’re going to work on that.” Without thinking, I smooth back these little curls at her temple, humbled by the way she leans into my touch. “What would you normally do at the ranch?”
She breathes deeply and lets it out. “Well. I’d start with a ride around the paddock to exercise my horse, then I’d brush her down and feed her. Sometimes, after that, I bring a picnic out into the pasture and enjoy the sunshine.”