Royal Heartbreaker

Chapter Fifteen - Elle

ELLE

His lips press against mine, so very gentle at first but insistent, his tongue trailing along my bottom lip. Before I have a moment to think about what it is I'm doing, my lips part and his tongue slides against mine.

And he's delicious. A mix of peanut butter and...something. Something that is just him—and I want more. Part of me thinks I might never have enough, which should be enough to scare me into ending this now.

Whatever electricity there's been between us before is nothing compared to this moment—the warm tingling sensation coiling around my body, settling low in my belly. Waking up parts of me I've spent the past year pretending were dead.

I'm only vaguely aware of some area in my brain screaming for this to stop—telling me this is wrong on so many levels and how I'm going to regret every moment of it. But I'm able to ignore that voice somehow, and it grows more distant by the second.

My fingers press against his chest, tracing the outline of the muscles beneath his skin. His hand slides up my back, resting at the base of my neck before his fingers tangle again in my hair. I gasp against his lips, and he pulls away for a moment before he brings his other hand to my face, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw.

He dips his head into my hair, whispering in my ear. "This. This is much better."

I try to twist away from him, unable to pull out of his grasp completely as my legs are pinned against the gurney behind me. If I arch back, I'll tumble onto the bed. If that happens, I have no doubt he'll be on top of me a second later, and I'll be unable to stop things from progressing from there.

My voice is breathless, probably because it's so damn hot and, well, so hard to breathe with him this close to me. "Stop. We have to stop."

He lets go of my hair, letting his fingers fall to the back of my neck. But his other hand stays on my face. He traces the length of my jaw again, his finger trailing down to my neck, following the path of the opening of my blouse.

I reach up and grab his wrist when he touches the edge of my breast. "Please."

He lets out a short breath and takes his hand away from my chest, pulling his hand back to lace his fingers through mine.

My other hand is still pressed against his chest. Part of me wants to tear it away as quickly as possible, but I don't. For some reason I don't understand, I let my hand caress down his chest, down to what even in the pitch darkness I can feel are his well-defined abs. He almost growls, but it's so quiet I can tell he doesn't want me to hear.

My fingers only rest there a moment before I feel something wet.

I blink a few times, waking myself from the daze I've been in for the past few minutes.

My fingers aren't just wet—they're sticky. And even though it's taken me a few seconds to regain the ability to use my brain, I know what I'm feeling.

"You're bleeding." I pull my hands away from him.

His voice is low, still silky with desire. "I assure you, Elle—"

"No, your chest. Your wound..." I let out an agitated breath. "I told you not to get up."

He releases me from his grip and I hear him take a seat on the nearby gurney. "You could join me."

"I...can't." My voice hitches in my chest—I owe him more of an explanation than that, but something stops me. "I can't. Not tonight. Not...ever." The words fall from my mouth faster than I can think. "You and me...not happening."