Chapter 12

Sigurd

Talking, washing dishes, cleaning fish. I'm interested in doing literally everything with Stasi.

I'd happily go to a prison cell for a life sentence with this woman.

One thing I'd never be is bored.

I like her smart mouth, I like her scent, I like her voice, I even like the way she doesn't listen when I tell her to do things. The fact that she makes an incredible fruit tart and smashed potatoes is a bonus.

Apart from the paid chefs at the palace, only Mr. Black cooks for me.

That tart, though. That tart was made with…something extra.

With Stasi perched on the counter in front of me, I have a more direct line of sight to her sweet mouth. Her full lips. Her strong chin is now pink from rubbing against my beard. Her long lashes frame shocking blue eyes that see directly to my soul.

Her sweet moans against my mouth make it more and more challenging to hold on to my sanity. I want to grab onto these fleshy hips and let my cock burrow deep into her softness, making her hiss with pleasure. I want to claim those incredible tits with my hands, my mouth, my everything. I want to taste and lick her literally everywhere. Everywhere.

Instead of doing any of that, I make the wiser choice. I let go of her hair and take her hands in mind.

It's enough to tame the beast inside. For now.

Stasi looks at one set of our joined hands and gives me a knowing look. "I never would have guessed you were a hand holder," she says.

"I…like holding your hands. Your hands feel good," I say.

She looks away shyly and bites her lip. I follow her gaze as it darts around the room until finally she can look nowhere else but in my eyes. "What is it, Stasi?"

"I like it too," she says.

"Tell me what else you like," I say.

Her eyes widen. "You mean…sexually?"

Gods, yes, please, tell me everything. But that's not what I meant, and I can see by how her shoulders lift that that's right out of the question.

"If you want to, but that's not what I meant," I say.

"Oh," she breathes. "Sorry. Sometimes I can be a bit thick."

I know she means thick in the head, but I can only focus on her fleshy thighs and how I want them to pin me in place when I make her come with my tongue.

Touching my lips to hers in a soft, caressing kiss, I press on. "Tell me," I insist.

"Well," she says. "I like the way you say my name."

"Stasi." I note her slight shiver. "Like that?"

"Mm. Yes," she says, her eyes fluttering closed. "And I like that your first impulse is to carry me around when you absolutely do not need to."

She chuckles, and my fingers squeeze her hand gently. They must stay occupied here before I scoop her up again and carry her to bed for something other than sleeping.

"What else?" I ask.

"I like that you're shy. And a gentleman."

I step closer, wedging myself between her legs, my cock radiating need so bad I'm surprised she can't sense it.

"And I like that you're kind to me when I don't know how to do something, like cleaning a fish."

I press a soft kiss full of longing to her swollen, glistening lips. "You're a natural."

She laughs. "And I like the nice things you say."

"You deserve nice things to be said to you."

Stasi takes in a quavering breath as she blinks several times.

"What's wrong, Stasi?"

She smiles and shakes her head, trying to let go of my hand. I'm not letting her hand go yet, so she dabs her eye with the back of her free hand.

"Nothing."

"Tell me," I say.

"Let's return to what I like about you," she says.

That's not the question I asked, but I let it go.

"And I like the way you kiss me," she says, angling in to touch her lips to mine.

I know this is a distracting technique, and it's working. I'm more than capable of noticing a cue. But I need more.

I free my hands to cup her neck and sweep my tongue into her mouth. She gasps at the slide of my tongue against hers, then moans sweetly into my mouth. She tastes like berries and smells like summer.

And I'm falling for her. For every sexy, maddening inch of her.

Her hand goes to my chest, warming the spot where my heart races.

I kiss her harder and deeper, angling her face just so. She is the perfect fit for me.

The heat between us builds. And I know I have to hit the brakes.

I pull back. "Stasi," I say.

She hums. "Say that again, but with your hand inside my panties."

I let out an inhuman growl.

"We should slow down," I tell her.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to push you."

She laughs, running her hand up and down my shirt. "You can push me. Into the bed. Over the back of the sofa…"

"Gods, woman," I grit out.

"Don't you want that?"

I do. By all the gods, I do.

"I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."

"Why would I think that?"

"Because I'm a prince."

"What difference does that make? You said you don't care about status and wish you weren't a prince."

She has an excellent memory, which means I won't do well at winning arguments when we're an old married couple.

"I don't want you to think I'm using my status as a prince to coerce you into bed."

"Oh, there's no coercion, sir."

I run my hand under the hem of her crop top, and she settles in closer to me. When I grab a handful of her tit, she squeaks in distress, and I immediately let go.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

She winces. "No, just a tiny sunburn. I didn't notice it before."

I nod solemnly and kiss her nose. "Better put something on that."

She nods. "I have something." She moves to hop off the countertop, but I insist on setting her down gently on her feet.

I follow her like a puppy to the bathroom, where she rifles through her toiletry bag.

Through the bathroom door, she says, "No offense, but I probably don't want to sit by the fire tonight. My chest is a little hot, and sitting by the campfire tonight probably won't feel good."

"You're right about that. May I have a look?"

She pushes open the bathroom door with her back to me. Lifting the hem of her crop top to reveal the expanse of her back, the skin there is pink enough that it will blister and peel eventually. It's nothing serious, but I hate that she feels any pain.

"Here," she says, holding out the bottle of aloe and looking up at me with big eyes. "Could you rub this on my back?"

As if she has to ask.