And as if I didn’t already have sins enough, there was the kiss.Her first,the damn caveman inside me roars.
She gave herself completely, offering me that sweet mouth, full lips receptive under mine, letting me guide her. Learning. Making me forget who we were and where we were.
The interruption wasn’t welcome, but it was necessary, because right after that, as if confirming my one-way ticket to hell, Jazmina seemed regretful.
The girl was raised in a society where unmarried people don’t even touch, and I kissed her. And it wasn’t just any kiss; it was full of lust. A kiss stored away for almost two years, one I had no intention of giving, yet I couldn’t resist her closeness and her plea for me to hold her just a little longer.
I can still feel her delicate curves molding into the hardness of my body.
I forgot who she was and wanted to take her clothes off. Mark her body with my tongue. Taste every inch of her.
But then she seemed to come to her senses and was so shaken she asked to go back to London the next day.
At the end of that dinner in Scotland, she said something about me getting engaged. I should have told her it was nothing more than vague plans, but I thought it best to let her believe I was off-limits, because she is off-limits to me too: forbidden.
After that, I assumed things would be awkward between us, but the princess was the first to break the ice when I called her. With her witty nature and sharp comebacks, she acted like what happened between us meant nothing.
She completely threw me off.
Not to sound full of myself, but that was her first kiss. She’s inexperienced, so how the hell can she act like us devouring each other’s mouths didn’t matter?
And it wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was hungry, pent-up for too long. Filled with tongues and moans.
Her maturity should have relieved me, since she took the initiative to keep her distance, but instead it awakened the hunter inside me.
I tried to justify bringing her to the launch of my new whiskey as a way to keep her from getting herself into trouble.Even though we’re not seeing each other, Jazmina knows I’m in London during the week and in Scotland on weekends, all within a phone call’s reach of her security team. My trip to Italy could make her impulsive, drive her to the wrong places again.
It was a pathetic excuse even to myself. The truth is that I was searching for justification to bring her along.
Now, however, when she opens the door wearing a tiny purple dress, long legs on display, that slim waist, those full breasts perfectly shaped by the fabric, I know this night will be an internal battle.
And I haven’t even mentioned her face yet.
She’s wearing makeup. Those green eyes, two damn emeralds, are highlighted, and her mouth, as always, painted red.
Her lower lip is full and sinfully sensual, making me think of all the ways I’d like to taste it.
Her thick hair is loose, falling behind her shoulders.
Jazmina looks like an erotic dream brought to life.
“Hi,” she says, cheeks flushed.
Shit. Knowing I affect her too does nothing to help my attraction.
“Hi,” I answer, clearing my throat. “Are you both ready?”
I hear footsteps behind the princess.
“Hello.” Josephine appears seconds later.
“Yes, we’re ready,” my forbidden goddess replies.
Livorno, Italy
I wanted to arrive earlier than the other guests on purpose, to have some time alone with her. Even though her friend Josephine is with us, she’s chosen to explore the yacht for a while, so right now I have Jazmina to myself.
She leans against the yacht’s railing watching the sea, and I watch her.