Free Princess from the Shadows Maisey Yates by Maisey Yates Page B

skimmed her sensitive skin. His hand drifted down, playing over the line of her collarbone, stopping right at the swell of her breast.
    Her eyes clashed with his, the dark intensity she saw there drawing the knot of arousal that was building in her to even more extreme levels. Her body felt heavy, a sharp pain building and spreading at the apex of her thighs. What she wanted, and how quickly she had gotten to the point of wanting it, shocked her.
    She’d never been a hot and fast girl. She needed time. But those few brushes of his fingers had been equivalent to thirty minutes of good foreplay. She had to make the decision that it was what she wanted. There was no way for her to make a decision now. She was helpless. Completely swept up in the desire she felt for him.
    She just wanted him to close the distance between them. To push her roughly against the wall and let her feel the hardness of his body against hers … in hers.
    Ultimately, she was the one that moved, the one who angled her head so that her lips could touch his. Heat exploded in her as soon as their mouths met, a hot, reckless urgency overtaking her.
    His kiss was hungry, but hers was starving. She needed it like air, with a desperation she hadn’t known lived in her. She planted her hands firmly on the back of his neck, fingers lacing through his thick dark hair as she held him captive against her.
    He kept one hand flat on the wall, the other on her lower back, his large hand splayed over her, his heat so perfect and wonderful and not enough.
    When they parted, it was with a moan of disappointment from her. His breath was coming in short, sharp bursts, and she was really glad to see it. To know he’d been affected too.
    “That,” he said, his voice rough, “that is what makes you hard to ignore.”
    Her stomach tightened, this time not with pleasure. She hated this. That he was able to demolish all of her barriers like this. That he brought up the hot, fiery passion in her that she’d fought for so long to ignore.
    Hadn’t she learned anything? Rodriguez was going to marry her, but he would be just as faithful of a husband as Gabriel had been to his wife. The only difference was that instead of being the bit on the side, she’d be the one raising his children, keeping the household and family going while he was off pleasing himself.
    Was that why Gabriel’s wife had stayed? Because Gabriel had her, body and soul, while she had nothing of him but his passing, occasional sexual interest?
    And was that what Rodriguez would do to her?
    No. It wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.
    But she feared that with Rodriguez, the choice might not be hers. Because he didn’t simply test her willpower. He smashed it into a million pieces. Pieces that were so tiny she feared she might never be able to assemble it again.
    “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” she said tightly, turning from him and walking down the corridor. Away from him. Away from the temptation he represented.
    And she tried to fight the depression that was creeping over her like fog, drowning out the lingering arousal and leaving in its place the stark realization that time and experience hadn’t changed her. She hadn’t truly mastered that wild, passionate part of herself. She’d simply managed to hide it for a while. She wasn’t in control, and Rodriguez seemed to be out to prove it.
    Madre di dio . Things could not get any worse.
    “Are you serious? A birthday party?” Carlotta looked at Rodriguez and tried to ignore the slight fluttering that seemed to be taking place everywhere in her body.
    She’d managed to steer clear of Rodriguez since the press conference, and since the kiss in the hall. She’d seen him, talked to him, but mostly she’d filled the two weeks since by acclimating Luca to his new home, visiting the local school, making a plan for him to attend in September.
    But that didn’t stop her from wanting him. From staring at him every time they happened to