The Prince's Virgin Wife. Lucy Monroe
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“That’s right, bella. Let me feel your pleasure.”
She stared at him, her body convulsing as his fingers continued their ministrations. Who was Bella? Her thoughts splintered as one fingertip barely slipped inside her and he pressed the heel of his hand against her clitoris, prolonging the bliss.
He pushed further inside and she felt a stab of pain at the same time as he said, “Maggie!” his voice laced with stunned disbelief.
“You are a virgin?” he demanded as he withdrew his hand from her body, but his hand remained in possession of her most private flesh.
“Yes.”
Something strange flashed in his eyes and he started whispering in a language she didn’t understand and pressing kisses all over her face and throat. Overwhelmed by sensation, she didn’t realize what was happening until he started pulling her jeans off.
“Tom?”
“What, bella?”
His use of the other woman’s name again brought her back to herself with a jarring thump. Of course he was thinking she was another woman. He wouldn’t want her otherwise, but she couldn’t give him her virginity on such a pretext. Could she?
“What are you doing?” she asked stupidly.
He laughed, the sound husky and strained. “Making love to you.”
But it wasn’t love. It was sex and she didn’t know if she could go through with it. “I’m a virgin.”
“I know.”
“I mean I’m not on the Pill, or anything.”
He had her jeans down to her knees and he tugged them to her ankles. “I have condoms.”
“But…” She put her hand down to shield herself even though she was still wearing panties. “Please, Tom. Wait.”
He stopped and looked at her, his expression frightening in its intensity. “You do not want to go all the way?”
“You called me Bella.”
Uncomfortable chagrin flashed in the depths of his cobalt blue eyes, confirming her fears she was a substitute for another woman. “Well…yes. You need me to explain?”
“No!” The very thought of hearing about some other woman he had loved while she lay practically naked below him was repugnant. “Absolutely not.”
Now he looked confused. “Then what is the problem?”
Was he really that dense? “I don’t want to make love with you while you’re thinking of one of your girlfriends.”
“I would never do such a thing,” he said, his whole body going stiff with affront.
She wished with all her might she could believe him, but what had he just been doing if not that very thing?
Driven by fear of playing substitute and what making love would ultimately entail physically, she said with pure honesty, “I’m not ready.”
“I think you are.”
“You said you’d fire me if I ever tried to seduce you. What would happen if we had sex right now?” she asked.
His expression turned grim, disappointment flashing in his blue eyes. “It would no doubt ruin a good friendship,” he said cynically.
Despite her protests, that was not what she had wanted to hear. Pain lanced through her. “I guess you’re right. It would be stupid to make love, then. I can’t afford to lose my job over a single night of lust.”
She hated saying the words, no matter how true they were.
He jerked back from her, an impenetrable emotionless mantle settling over him. “I will not push you into doing something you believe would be damaging to you,” he said stiffly.
“I know that.”
He did not reply, but moved to sit on the sofa. She could not see his expression because his head was down and his big body shuddered with several heavy breaths.
Without the passion to lose herself in, she became embarrassed and quickly redressed. She stood up, awkward and unsure what to say.
After a few seconds, even his breathing was under control. When he looked at her, there was nothing in his gaze to tell her what he might be thinking. He simply sat there in silence with his hands dangling between his jean-clad legs.
“Tom, I, uh…”
“If I found you naked in my bed, I would not fire you.” That was all he said and then he got up and walked out of the room without another word.
A second later, the front door opened and shut and she was completely alone in a house that seemed to echo with all that had not been said.
Had he really wanted her?
Who was Bella?
She took his place on the couch, tears burning her eyes. Had she just avoided a monumental mistake or made the worst one of her life?
Those questions along with his words played inside Maggie’s head throughout the following week.
They popped into her consciousness first thing when she woke up in the morning and bedeviled her throughout the day and then made it hard to sleep each night. When she did sleep, she dreamed of him and the pleasure he’d given her.
She would wake up aching between her legs and craving him. Her desire for him grew to unbearable heights. Two things held her back from jumping into his bed: the memory of him calling her by another woman’s name and the fact that he was rarely around. Being honest with herself, she had to admit that if the latter were not the case, the former probably wouldn’t even matter.
He hadn’t dated a Bella that she’d known of, but when Maggie had stayed on as caretaker of his house the past summer, he had gone home. He could have dated anyone then. Had he fallen in love with Bella and she dropped him?
It would explain why he hadn’t been as focused on his relationships with women this year, why he’d only had one girlfriend and he’d broken up with her when she started getting serious. Maggie hated the thought of being a substitute for another woman. However, the temptation to try to capture his affection for herself through passion became more irresistible with every passing day. Particularly as Tom grew more distant and spent less and less time around her.
He wanted her and he’d practically invited her to his bed. Those were two facts she simply could not dismiss from her mind.
Finally the fear of losing what she did have of him decided for her. It was after eleven already and Tom wasn’t home. He’d called and said not to worry about dinner, that he had a study group he was going to. On a Friday