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His kiss is just as possessive as Zack’s, but in a completely different way. Zack kisses like an alpha in need of a mate, while Wind … he kisses like a royal giving a decree. He commands me with his mouth, tasting me and offering up an exquisite burn of pleasure that has me gasping and backing away.
A gloved hand curls around my wrist, and he yanks me against his bare and sweaty chest, the hardness beneath his riding pants pressing into my stomach. The way he looks down at me, I can see it. He doesn’t believe he can lose, not in this. His feelings for me might be genuine, but I don’t like the cocky attitude.
“You better wipe that smirk off your face,” I tell him, but his smile simply stretches into a carnal grin. I’d say it were feral if it weren’t so polished, but there is that edge there, reminding me that no matter how good he’s been to me, no matter how loyal a friend, he’s dangerous as hell, too.
“Make me.” Windsor backs me up toward the open door of a stall and pushes me in, sending me to my ass in a pile of warm, dry hay. He kneels down between my legs as my heart thunders a mile a minute, my pulse heating my blood and sending it to all the places my body wishes he would touch. “Make me, Marnye Reed. Tame the bad boy. That’s what you like, isn’t it? The chase, the challenge.”
“It’s not like that,” I tell him, but maybe he’s right. Maybe I do have a thing for the broken ones? I like to fix things, make them right again, study the world and learn how it works. What makes this any different?
“Sure it isn’t,” Windsor says, putting his palms on my legs and making me flush. He takes hold of my knees and carefully spreads my legs, maintaining eye contact with me all the while. “I hate your friend, but I like you too much to care.” He smooths his hands up the insides of my legs and makes
me moan, the whinny of a horse two stalls down the only sound besides our labored breathing.
Windsor leans down and presses a kiss to the inside of my knee, working his way up toward my panties until I’m panting and shaking, desperate for him to touch something besides just my leg. He reaches down with two fingers and pulls a condom from his boot.
His boot.
He was keeping one in his fucking boot.
“You’re a monster,” I whisper, but I mean that in the most affectionate way possible as he finally leans down and nips at my panties, getting my clit just enough that my hips buck up involuntarily.
“Maybe, but I’m your monster. You should see what I’ve got planned for that bitch Ileana Taittinger. When we get back to school, I’ll hand you her head on a plate as a Christmas gift.” Windsor sits up and opens his fly with deft movements of his gloved fingers, keeping eye contact with me all the way. He frees his shaft, and my breathing picks up an even quicker pace.
But I can’t look away from him to see it. I’ll have to look later.
The condom is on in seconds, and then Wind is climbing over me, still looking down into my eyes. He pushes my panties aside, positions himself at my opening, and drives into me with a deep, hard thrust. I see stars, and tears form at the edges of my eyes as he groans, some of that perfect princely polish falling away in desperate male sounds of pleasure.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, putting his face against my neck for just a moment to breathe, and then he looks back down at me with those hazel eyes, the gold bits seeming to shine even brighter than usual. I can feel him inside of me, taking up every spare bit of space. Windsor takes my hand in one of his gloved ones and puts it between us, encouraging me to pleasure myself with my fingers. “Oh yes, Marnye,” he murmurs, “so worth the wait.”
The prince fucks me into the pile of hay with deep, quick movements, his hips pushing against mine as one of his gloved hands closes over my breast and he bites the nipple through the lace. I’m lost to him, completely and utterly destroyed.
It’s quick and messy, our frantic coupling in the barn, but Wind is right: so worth the wait. My orgasm is like a ripple on a pond, starting small in my core and then taking over my body in waves until it’s a tsunami that destroys me from the inside out. Wind comes hard with a final thrust, so deep that I
can feel him touch me in a place that feels both strange and good at the same time.
My hands cling to his sweaty, bare back as he shudders and then finally goes still, bracing himself above me with his elbows. Another horse whinnies nearby.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, staying right where he is, still sheathed inside of me. We’re both having trouble breathing, I think. “Bloody fucking cocksucking hell.” Wind finally looks back over at me and our eyes meet. It’s too much, looking at him while he’s still inside, and I try to look away. He touches my cheek with gloved fingers and forces me back. “You, Milady, are staying in my room tonight.”
“I don’t know how the other boys would feel about that,” I choke out, but Wind just smirks and sits up, pulling me along with him, so that my head is against his sweaty chest, his heart thundering against my ear. I like that, hearing his heart.
“Come find me in bed later and ask me how much I fucking care,” he says, and then we sit there together for a while in silence.
When we come out of the barn a few minutes later, fully dressed, but stillCopyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
recovering from our encounter, I feel like Zayd is the only one that notices, narrowing his green eyes in our direction. Creed and Miranda are too busy fighting, Zack is keeping Charlie entertained, and Tristan is nowhere to be seen.
Probably a good thing.
Since I think Windsor wanted to kill him earlier.
“Have a nice chat?” Zayd asks, leaning back on the bench and putting his tattooed arms out behind him. He’s still wearing the polo shirt, but he’s tossed the jacket.
“You have no idea,” Wind purrs in his English accent, and I shiver.
He’s been a good friend to me all along. Now, when I glance over at him, something feels different.
Deeper, darker … impossible to ignore.
“Right,” Zayd responds, voice tight and clipped with jealousy. Jealousy.
How the hell am I going to manage an entire harem of bullies for the rest of the year?
Guess only time will tell that.