Grace Goodwin - His Virgin Princess

“As a man.” He stood proudly, staring at me, the hunger in his eyes so intense I would swear I could feel his touch from across the room. The water ran over his healed body, dripping and following every curve. Every shadow. Lower. God, he was magnificent. Huge. Everywhere. I glanced up to see he enjoyed my inspection. Without doubt, I didn’t have the acting ability to hide my lust for his perfect body.

“What about other family?”

“My parents weren’t Marked Mates so my father mated a second time. Again, not a Marked Mate.”

“I heard finding your Marked Mate is rare.” I moved my hand across the surface of the water, playing with the few bubbles, trying like hell to ignore the heat coming off my mate, and not the physical kind. I’d never wanted a man like I wanted him, and the wait was making me edgy, hyper-aware of everything. The coolness of the air on my shoulders, the heat of the water, the popping of bubbles on my sensitive nipples.

“It is. Very rare. My father died almost a year ago. What is a mate of your parent called on Earth?”

“Stepmother or stepfather.”

“Then I have a stepmother, Mauve, and a stepsister, Rayla, who is three years younger than I. Rayla was from Mauve’s first mate, who was killed hunting a bounty on a Prillon criminal.”

“No other brothers and sisters? Uncles? Cousins?”

He shook his head, turned and tilted his head back to wash his hair. It was shaggy, a slight shadow of beard on his face making him look dark and dangerous and sexy. So sexy. I devoured him with my eyes.

“No. None. I am the heir to my father’s seat on the Seven. My family descends from the original ruling families. I am a prince to my people, and you, Danielle, will be their princess.”

Princess? Me? Dani from Florida. A princess? Insane.

I had to look away to form a coherent thought about something besides being the central character of a Disney movie. I couldn’t even sing. I was too skinny. Too small. I didn’t have the curves to fill out that kind of dress. I didn’t talk to mice, or birds, or any other kind of creature. I hunted deer and ate them for dinner. I didn’t talk to them or dance in the woods singing songs to squirrels. I wasn’t regal or refined, and the ridiculous wave I saw the royals do on television back on Earth would give me carpal tunnel. Seriously? What were we talking about? Me? Royalty?

No.

Family. Right. I cleared my throat and pushed all princess thoughts aside. “I don’t have any family either. I don’t remember my mother. She didn’t die, she just decided she needed to go back to the city. She left when I was four, to go off with the yoga instructor from the recreation center in town. I heard they got married and moved to California.”

Gage was lathering his hair now and I ended my words. Watching him was more interesting than my worthless mother. And it wasn’t just his gorgeous face I was ogling. With his arms up, his back arched and in profile, his cock thrust out and up from his body. I couldn’t miss it. I licked my lips, remembering the soft feel of the skin, the taste of the bead of fluid that came from the tip in my dreams. How hard it was. Hot. How it pulsed against my tongue.

“And your father?” he asked.

I felt the familiar pang of sadness when I thought of my dad, but I no longer felt lonely. My heart was slowly being filled by Gage.

“My father died last year. He taught me everything I know about surviving in the wilderness. He was a hunting and fishing guide. Took people into the wetlands to hunt, to the rivers to fish. We spent at least two months in the mountains up north in Montana every summer. He was a good man. A great father.”

The shower shut off and he opened the tube door. Came out. I stared as he walked to the tub, his body dripping with water, his muscles flexing and bunching as he moved with confidence. Ease. Even with a big club between his thighs.

“I am sorry that he has passed on to be with the Gods.”

I blinked furiously. I would not cry now. So, I nodded.

“Before my mark flared to life, I was expected to marry Rayla,” he said, and I was thankful he moved back to his soap opera life. “The royal engagement has already been announced.”

My mouth fell open. Definitely soap opera. “You’re engaged to your sister ?”

He grinned as he slid into the tub, sank down until his shoulders sank beneath the water and moved right in front of me. Placing his hands on the edge of the tub on either side of my head, I was pinned in place. “Not by blood. She is well-loved by the people, a commoner who would become a princess. She is kind and selfless, involved in many organizations that help the common people.”

Holy shit. He did not just use the word common in relation to his sister. Stepsister . Whatever.

“Is she beautiful?” I wanted to smack myself for asking that, but the damn words popped out before I could rein in the little green monster roaring to life inside me. Jealousy was a bitch, and I really didn’t want to hate my future sister-in-law.

“Yes. She is.” He lifted his hand to my hair, held a strand in his fingers as his gaze dropped to my lips. “But not as beautiful as you are.”

I blushed; I couldn’t help it, not with him looking at me like he was ready to pounce. I wanted to yell at him to hurry up, but I was trapped like a deer in the headlights, frozen. Waiting for him to touch me. Worried he still wanted someone else. “Does she know? About me?”

His gaze softened, drifting to my lips. I struggled to breathe. “Yes. She was thrilled.”

I frowned. “She was happy to not become a princess?” That did not compute. No one could be happy giving up this gorgeous hunk of man.

“Yes. We were both trapped by duty. Now she is free to marry for love, not obligation. I love her, Danielle, she is my family, mine to protect.”

“You love her?” Gah! Could I sound more like a babbling idiot? But it was completely his fault. I couldn’t think. Not with the heat of his body rolling over me like a drug. And his lips. I was staring. Starving. I’d dreamed of him night after night, lost him, found him, but he’d never been mine. Real. Not like this. And the hunger roaring to life inside me wasn’t normal. It was terrifying. Too much. Too strong. I was spinning out of control, my body not my own, but his. Aware of his heartbeat, the pulse at the base of his neck. God, his scent was like a drug, filling my entire body with heat.

And the thought of him with another woman? The part of me screaming about that was wild and raw, edgy and feral. I’d never felt like this before. I was afraid to move, afraid if I moved one muscle, I’d lose control and pounce. Mark him. I wanted to rub my body all over him, like a fucking cat claiming territory, marking him with my scent—because I knew the others would smell my skin on his, know that he was mine. It was wrong. Strange.

I couldn’t stop wanting to do it anyway.

God, maybe I was an alien, because this was innate. Instinct. I felt like the Hunter now.

We were no longer dirty. No longer hurt.

“I love her as a sister and nothing else. But it is nothing compared to how I feel about you. I am your family now, Danielle, and you are mine.”

Shaking. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe . I needed him to touch me. Needed it more than I needed oxygen. I licked my lips, pleased when his gaze followed the gesture and his eyes grew dark with heat.

“Prove it.” I glided through the water and pressed my body to his, chest to chest, lifting my fingers to run through his hair as I’d been longing to do.

The first contact was like a jolt of electricity, my body crackling with heat and lust and want. It was his turn to freeze, to fight for control. Closing my eyes, eager for a taste of him, I pressed my lips to his, claimed his mouth in a kiss.