Mistress to the Prince (18 page)

“Max, we can’t do this,” she said but her mouth just found his again, her lips opening for his insistent tongue. 

“Stop talking,
Tara
,” he said and leaned her over so her back was
pressed
against the seat of the sofa.  His hands were now free to explore and his right hand slid down her waist, over her hip and down her skirt until it found the hem.  Then it slowly traveled upwards, underneath the wool until it found the top of her thigh high stockings.  His fingers rested lightly on the bare flesh, feeling the softness and rubbing against the lace at the top of her stockings. 

Tara
’s mind whirled at the new sensations.  Her hands gripped his shoulders and her back arched into him, begging him to touch more of her.  His hand slipped out from under her skirt and pulled the hem of her shirt out of the waistband of her skirt. 
Tara
gasped when his fingers found the bare flesh of her stomach and led a trail of fire up her torso.  His hand stopped right underneath her breast, one thumb rubbing the lace of her bra and making her moan with anticipation. 

Instead of traveling the last few inches, his hand traveled back down and
Tara
almost screamed in frustration.  “Please, don’t stop,” she cried out, holding his hand and stopping it from moving away from her breast. 

“I’m not,” he said, his voice harsh as his hand slowly undid the buttons of her silk shirt.  His eyes took in the scrap of white lace that covered her breasts, the heat making her weak.  “You’re beautiful,
Tara
,” he said and his hand flicked open the front clasp of her bra. 

Tara
stared, watching his eyes as his hand moved to cover her breast.  She almost cried when his thumb flicked over her nipple.  His head dropped so his mouth could replace his hand and
Tara
’s hands held his mouth in place, showing him without words what she needed. 

Max was more than able to provide and his mouth covered her nipple, creating sensation after sensation as her hands pulled at his hair.  His teeth nibbled and then his mouth suckled, driving
Tara
to the brink of pain and pleasure. 

While his mouth continued its torture, his hand moved back to the hem of her skirt, sliding upwards again and finding the lace of her underwear.  His fingers moved along the edges and teased her legs apart.  Eventually, his hand was able to pull the lace down and completely off, giving his hand free access to the core of her which he quickly took advantage of. 

Tara
’s mind was screaming and she was desperate to feel him but he shook his head when her fingers started unbuttoning his shirt.  “I can’t,
Tara
.  Just relax and let me love you tonight,” he said and his other hand held her hands over her head, imprisoning them there while his other hand caressed her body and slowly entered her as his own body was screaming to do. 

Tara
could no longer hold back.  When his fingers entered her and his thumb touched
her pulsing desire, her body splintered into a thousand pieces as her orgasm took over, spinning her mind out of control. 

Max watched, fascinated by the feminine beauty of her.  He wanted to bury himself inside her but knew that he had to take things more slowly.  He had probably gone too far tonight, had only meant to kiss her and touch her.  But she was so responsive, so sexy, he couldn’t stop. 

When her eyes slowly opened and were able to focus on him, he pulled her up so she was sitting in his lap again, then gently kissed her, bringing her down to earth and reality again. 

“Oh,
”
was all she could think of to say. 

“I agree,
”
he chuckled. 

Tara
tried to get her breathing under control, but her body was still pulsating softly in the aftermath of his lovemaking. 
She relaxed, leaning her head against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed that she had so completely lost herself and he was still dressed, not even a button undone. 

“Don’t be.  You’re incredibly beautiful in the throes of passion,” he said, his voice husky at the memory. 

“
M
ax, I…I don’t know what to say,” she said and tried to slip off his lap. 

“Say you’ll do that with me again.  Soon,” he added.

Tara
shivered in his arms.  “Max, I…”

“Shh.  You’re not going to say the right thing, so I don’t want to hear it.”

“I need to go home,” she said and
tried to stand
.

“The love em and leave em type, huh?” he said and stood up with her. 

“No.  I’m sorry.  Max, this is confusing.  That’s never happened to me before,” she said and a tear formed in the corner of her eye.

“Hey, what’s this?” he said and stepped forward to catch the errant tear.  He took her in his arms and hugged her.  “Don’t worry about anything, okay?” he asked.  “Just trust me.”

Tara
took a deep, shuddering breath.  “I’m not sure what to think.”

He looked down at her and put a hand under her chin so she’d look at him.  “Have I ever done
anything to hurt you?” he aske
d
.

“No,
” she replied instantly. 

“Right.  Now trust me.  Just be here tomorrow at whatever time my mother asked you to be here.  And I promise everything will be fine. 
She was right. 
I need you tomorrow night.
It will be an interesting evening
,” he said. 

“Okay,” she said and picked up her jacket again.  For some reason, it kept falling to the floor each time she placed it somewhere.  She hoped it wasn’t a metaphor for what she was currently doing. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.  And just so you’re prepared, I will kiss you again,” he joked.

Tara
laughed slightly.  “I’m not sure I’m worried about your kisses anymore,” she said.

“Good.  At least I’ve accomplished something.”

Tara
had to laugh out loud at his boyish grin.  “Yes.  You’ve definitely accomplished that tonight,” she replied.

He walked her to her car and true to his word, he kissed her tenderly.  But even that kind of kiss, meant to reassure and
get her to trust him, completely obliterated any rational thought she had. 

She fell into bed that night but didn’t have trouble sleeping.  As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out.  She didn’t wake up until late Saturday morning. 

Tara
looked out the window and felt wonderful.  She looked around and wondered why everything looked better, fresher this morning.  Then the memories of the previous night came back to her.  She buried her face in the pillow, but she smiled as well. 
Tara
had never before felt those kinds of feelings before. 
She was amazed that Max could create those kinds of feelings within her.  There was also embarrassment that she had been so uninhibited in his arms but she pushed those feelings away, not wanting them to mar the good mood she was currently in. 

Now she
knew she
was completely in love with the man.  Oh, she’d been in love with him before last night.  The man was intelligent and caring and respectful but still masterful and commanding. 

Looking at the clock, she realized it was later than she’d ever slept before. 
Throwing the covers off, she slipped out of bed and showered quickly.  In order to get her mind off of tonight, she decided to scrub her house.  Starting in the kitchen, she worked from top to bottom, cleaning the cabinets on the inside and out, taking o
ut every dish, glass and glassw
ar
e
.  She was scrubbing the top shelves when the phone call came.  Taking off one rubber glove, she answered the phone quickly, thinking it would be her mother. 
Tara
didn’t want her mother to know about her cleaning.  That was always a sure give away to her mother that something was wrong. 

But it was Queen Natasha’s secretary.  “I’m just calling to confirm your appointment
this afternoon and ask if you might have the time for measurements as well
. 
The dressmaker is eager to get started on new dresses. 
Or would you like me to reschedule
the measurements
?  I understand you have a busy afternoon and the Queen doesn’t want to take up too much of your afternoon.”

“No, no, that’s fine.  I’ll be there.”

“That’s good.  The queen wanted to assure you that she’ll make the fitting as quick and painless as possible,” the secretary said.

“Thank you.”

“We’ll see you soon then,” she said and rung off. 

Tara
looked at the clock.  She had less than a half hour before she needed to be at the palace and she had only taken a shower.  Tossing her gloves onto a stack of plates, she rushed to her room and pulled her hair back into a neat pony tail and slipped on a pair of
black
slacks and a soft sweater.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror and wondered if she should put on a busi
ness suit.  But she just didn’t
feel like it.  She wanted to be comfortable and the soft pink sweater made her feel more confident.  It was made of silk and
cashmere and fitted her like a glove. 

She put on a touch of mascara, some powder and lipstick, then grabbed her purse and drove to the palace.  As soon as she walked into the living quarters, she was greeted by the queen’s assistant who introduced herself as Debra.  “This way to the dress maker’s area,” she said formally and preceded
Tara
into a large room filled with every possible kind of fabric both casual and formal. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Michaels
.  I’m Lizzy
,” the dressm
aker said, smiling brightly as she
shook
Tara
’s hand.  “It’
s a pleasure to meet you.  I understand you’ll be needing several dresses for formal occasions when you will be escorted by our handsome prince, is that right?”

Lizzy was the perfect name for the outrageous woman standing in front of
Tara
.  She was in her mid fifties with frizzy red hair going every which way but with beautiful blue eyes that shone with excitement and energy.  She was wearing a bright, blue dress that hugged her buxom figure, then flared out at the waist.  On anyone else, the dress would look comical but on Lizzy, she could somehow pull it off wonderfully. 

Tara
was appalled at the idea of the palace spending so much money on dresses for her.  She shook her head as she replied,
“Oh, probably only one or two.  I don’t think I’ll need more than that.”

Lizzy basically ignored
Tara
’s comment, smiling mysteriously. 
“We’ll see,” she said and
her eyes twinkled
as if she knew something
Tara
didn’t.  “You have lovely skin, my dear.  And that hair!
” she exclaimed in relief.  “
It will be fun to create something for a brunette for a
change
,” she laughed.  “Red heads are a
fun
challenge though, aren’t they?”

“
Y
es, I suppose,”
Tara
replied, trying to be diplomatic since the queen and her two daughters had red hair. 

The dress maker tucked and measured Tara from so many points
and angles
,
Tara
was confused.  She measured for over half an hour and some of the measurements didn’t make any sense so
Tara
ended up just following orders and raising her hand, foot or shoulder whenever the dictatorial dressmaker spoke.