Her Bodyguard Read online

  like this is enough for my needs, although I make a mental note to rent something small out in town, away from the palace. It never hurts to have an escape plan. That's always been my motto and something that's served me well my whole life, but especially in the Marines.

  If the princess keeps taking her clothes off in front of me, I'm going to need a damned escape plan. I can't imagine that thinking about the king's daughter that way is going to end well.

  I lean against the bedroom door, exhaling heavily at the thought of the princess dancing like she was on top of the bar tonight, her hips swaying and that look in her eyes. She was trying to wind me up with the dance, that much was clear.

  Hell, I'm pretty sure she was trying to wind me up the whole night.

  My cock twitches, a reminder that she most definitely succeeded.

  I don't know a normal red-blooded male who wouldn't have gotten hard just looking at the display she put on tonight. But I'm not a normal red-blooded male, either. I always stay in control – another trait that's always served me well. I'm not a person who loses control, and tonight I lost control.

  I shouldn't have picked her up and carried her out of the club. The fact that I did that might have cost me my job. But hell, I didn't want to just stand there watching her dance like that with every guy in the room looking at her.

  My cock strains against the zipper of my pants just thinking about her. Self-control seems to be a trait I don't presently possess.

  Unzipping, I wrap my hand around my hard cock. Pre-cum drips from the tip like it's a damn faucet. Instead of going to bed and getting to sleep on schedule the way I should – the way I would if I had any semblance of self-control – I'm in here jerking off because I'm too wound up to do anything else.

  I can't shake the image of her on that bar, her expression as she looked down at me. Or her pulling off her shirt in her room and walking away, like she was daring me to come after her.

  I'd never do that. I'd never jeopardize my position here, or the income that's going straight back to support my parents.

  Except in my fantasy.

  In my fantasy, she's standing right here, leaning back against the wall wearing a dress pulled high on her creamy white thighs and nothing underneath. In my fantasy, when I slide my fingers between her legs, she's wet. I bring my fingers to my mouth, her wetness sparkling on the tips like the small fortune in jewelry she wears around her neck. When I touch them to my tongue, it's better than anything I've ever tasted.

  She arches her back, her shoulders against the wall and a mixture of lust and defiance in her eyes, an expression that's becoming all too familiar coming from her. "Taste yourself," I whisper, putting my fingers to her lips. I tease her lower lip, and she opens for me, sucking me seductively the way she would if her lips were around my cock.

  Fuck, I want this girl's perfectly painted royal lips wrapped around me. I want to come in an explosion inside that royal mouth. I want her to look up at me with those wide eyes and swallow everything I give her.

  "On your knees, princess," I growl, my tone harsh, but only because I'm already so close to coming.

  She smirks and arches her eyebrow like she's amused that I dare order her around. "Do you really think the Princess of Protrovia is going to get on her knees in the middle of my bodyguard's bunkroom?"

  "I do," I whisper softly into her ear, taking pleasure when she turns her head toward me, visibly squirming as I speak. She writhes when I slide my palm over her inner thigh, my fingers finding their way back between her legs. She's so wet, and when I press my fingertips to her clit, she lets out a little whimper. Soon, the cadence of her breath changes, becoming shorter until it sounds more like panting than breathing. Her clit swells, and despite how badly I want to take it in my mouth, I don't, because that would be too easy.

  Giving in to her would be too easy, and Princess Alexandra doesn't do easy. Anything with her should be difficult as hell.

  So I bring her to the edge, my eyes never leaving hers as I stroke her. Her eyelids fall halfway closed and her breasts move up and down as she breathes in and out, and then I … stop.

  A look of confusion passes over her face. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice practically a whine.

  I don't answer. I reach for her hair, beyond caring that I'm destroying several hours' worth of work by the royal hairdresser who created this hairstyle that goes perfectly with her dress. I completely ruin it. I angle her face upward until her lips nearly touch mine, but I don't kiss her. I want her lips for another purpose.

  "I told you – on your knees," I growl. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

  Hell, I've been fantasizing about it since the day I met her. My cock twitches its response, my hardness agonizing.

  "I don't get on my knees for anyone."

  "Don't forget who you're talking to, princess," I whisper. She inhales sharply, and I know I'm giving her exactly what she wants. "I know you. Don't try to deny you're soaking wet at the very thought of dropping to your knees so I can fuck that pretty little mouth of yours."

  When she gasps, the sound echoes off the walls. "This dress is worth more than your monthly salary," she protests, indignant. "I'm not getting on my knees in it."

  "Most likely," I agree. Gripping the bottom of the fabric and tear it, right up the middle. "But now it's torn."

  Alex looks at me long and hard, and for a minute, I think she's going to slap me. That's exactly what I'd deserve; hell, I deserve much worse than that for how far I've already gone with her.

  But she doesn't slap me. Her eyes narrow and her hand goes to my chest. My cock swells at her touch, even though her hand is nowhere near it. Her palm lingering, she keeps her eyes on me as she drops.

  To. Her. Knees.

  I wrap my fingers in her hair, gripping tightly as she falls to the ground. Then she's kneeling, looking up at me with large eyes that are clouded with lust and the sudden willingness to bend for me.

  She runs her tongue over her lips as she unbuckles my pants, and as she wraps her hand around me, I let out a long groan. It takes everything I have not to come all over her face right now.

  I'm being careless, out-of-control, and entirely reckless with her. Yet, I don't care.

  Here in my room, I stroke myself faster, the image of Alexandra on her knees with her mouth open and her tongue out almost more than I can take.

  She looks at me approvingly before guiding the tip of my dick into her mouth. As she wraps her lips around me, she moans, a long and low sound like she's been eagerly waiting for me.

  I can't wait any longer. I fuck her mouth like I intend to fuck her pussy, and definitely not like she's a princess.

  I know by the way she groans her encouragement, with one hand caressing my balls as she takes me in deeper and deeper, she doesn't want me to treat her like a princess.

  She likes it like this.

  In the bunkroom, I let out a long groan, beyond caring that any of the staff in either of the adjoining rooms might hear me. The image of Alexandra's wide eyes looking up at me, her ruby lips wrapped around my shaft, pushes me over the edge and I come hard. When I'm finished, I'm breathing like I've just run a damn marathon.

  I've never gotten this worked up thinking about a woman I've only just met. She's gotten under my skin, and that's dangerous in this job – if I still have this job tomorrow.

  I need to get this under control.

  6

  Alexandra

  "I've already decided, Alexandra. I won't hear another word about it." My father looks at me sternly, his voice firm. He's in one of those moods where it does absolutely no good to argue, but I protest anyhow. The very idea that my bodyguard can tell me what to do and where to go is insane. I'm a grown-ass woman.

  "It's completely ridiculous," I argue. "I'm twenty-one years old. I'm not a child, Father."

  "Then stop acting like one," he bellows, his voice booming through the room. The fact that he's yelling catches me by surprise; my father hardl