Wrong Room, Right Mistake

There was no backing out once I was in Carlos' bedroom.

Even if I wanted to turn around, which I didn't, it was way too late. The door hadn't made a sound when I slipped inside, but that didn't mean it would stay quiet if I tried to chicken out and run. Knowing my luck, I'd trip and fall in my rush and Carlos' guards would barge in. They'd catch me in my super slutty negligee, running away from trying to seduce their prince. They'd probably think I was some kind of crazy girl trying to poison him in his sleep.

So don't chicken out, Paula, I told myself, blinking until my eyes got used to the dark. You want this. You totally want this. Want him.

I tried to act like a cool spy girl and took a couple of steps toward one side of his huge California king-sized sleigh bed. In the pitch black, I had to go by memory of the room's layout from the tour of the whole palace the day before. After the nine-hour flight on his private jet, Carlos had brought the whole group, Maria, Juan, Nor and me, up to his room to chill. He blushed like a tomato when we all stood there staring at how big it was. Like he could say, "Yeah, my bedroom's the size of a chapel but hey, we're still on for a game of Call of Duty before we crash, right?" and we'd just be fine with it.

That was Carlos for you. So modest. And so damn sexy it hurt to look at him. With his dark black hair, icy-blue eyes and athlete's body, it was no wonder he had so many girls to pick from for senior prom, like a farmer choosing the best cow at a show. It had hurt that he hadn't asked me, but I was long over that. Sort of.

Because tonight, I was going to have the best sex of my life.

I was being totally unfair to Sergio, the jerk, because even with the messy way we broke up, he was pretty good.

Oh yeah. So good he never gave you an orgasm.

Sergio Foster might have looked like a Greek god, but I had never felt what my best friend Maria called "the big Paula." It feels a whole lot unrealistic to me, just like a myth. That didn't mean I hadn't gotten wet whenever I came to Corfu for Christmas and saw my ex-boyfriend. That wasn't the problem.

Maybe it wasn't Sergio, a mean voice in my head said. Maybe it's you.

It was with this upsetting thought floating in my head that I tripped over my own feet and went flying right onto the bed. I landed on the guy I liked in a tangle of awkward arms and legs. If he had been fast asleep, he sure wasn't anymore the second my palm hit his face.

"The hell?" he grunted, trying to sit up in a sleepy way.

Without thinking, I pushed him back down, glad he couldn't see how red my face must have been.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, Carlos. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" I babbled. As carefully as I could, I moved to sit on top of him, shivering when I felt his bare chest under my hands. "Are you bleeding?" I gently checked his face, relieved to feel no warm blood or bump.

He froze. I wished I could see his face right then. I wished I could tell if he was pulling away because it was me, one of his best friends, sneaking into his bedroom at midnight. Before I could chicken out, I lowered my lips to his, or at least where I thought they were. Instead, my mouth hit his tight jaw. It was unusually rough with stubble and that only made it sexier. Slowly, I kissed my way up to his lips, praying he wouldn't pull away or tell me to get the hell out. Which was a real chance at this point.

But then he kissed me back. One big hand flew to the back of my head to keep me there.

A rush of hot need hit my stomach and before I knew it, his tongue was in my mouth. Just like I thought, Carlos Sebastian the Third knew how to kiss. He kept tasting me, pulling my bottom lip into the warm heat of his mouth.

I pulled back, breathing hard, my heart pounding fast against my chest. Carlos let out a low sound of complaint, his hands sliding down my sides and to my legs on either side of him. I pulled the thin fabric of my negligee over my head and tossed it behind me, now completely naked.

I hadn't been naked with any guy but Derek, but I was okay enough with my body not to feel too shy. Besides, it was totally dark in here. The moon was hidden by clouds. Carlos couldn't see, only feel.

"I want you to touch me, Carlos," I whispered, finding his hands, leaning forward and putting them on my chest. His hands were huge and warm, and when they squeezed my breasts right away, I almost lost it.

Almost slowly, Carlos traced a circle around both hard nipples before pulling and stretching them with skilled fingers. I cried out before I could stop myself. The feel of his rough skin against my sensitive nipples was so good it hurt. I pressed against him, grinding without thinking against what I knew was his growing hardness under the covers. Hot and hard, it hit me right there. Carlos Orlov the damn Third was hard for me.

One hand left my breast, tracing heat down my stomach before cupping the throbbing spot between my thighs. A loud moan slipped out before I could stop it, but Carlos didn't tell me to be quiet. Come to think of it, he hadn't said much, just cursed when I landed on him.

"Please," I begged, when it felt like minutes had passed of him not touching me where I needed it most.

He shifted under me and ran his finger along my opening, stopping at the swollen tip of my clit. He pulled his fingers away and I made a soft sound of protest. In the quiet that followed, I heard the clear sucking sound that told me he had just tasted me on himself.

"Oh," I whispered, wishing I had seen that. I was full of mixed feelings. "That's so hot."

And then his finger pushed into me.

I yelped and arched up before giving in to the feeling and rocking against him. He brought his thumb to my clit, rubbing it fast while he slid another finger inside me. I let out another sharp cry, shaking when he curled a finger and found another myth I had heard about, my G-spot. I knew that was what it was because right then, just like that, I came apart over his hand and came.

Shakes ran through my body and bright spots danced in front of my eyes. My climax had surprised me, even though I had sensed that the strong need to pee had nothing to do with my bladder and everything to do with the guy fingering me.

I wanted to cry with thanks. It wasn't me. There was nothing wrong with me. I could come.

"Thank you," I breathed on a sob, reaching down and holding Carlos's face with my hands. Leaning forward, I kissed him, finding his lips with no trouble. His tongue flicked out to trace the edge of my lips before I opened them and let him in. Groaning, he kicked the covers away from under me and that was how I found out he slept naked.

Nothing sexier.

The kiss changed when I felt his hardness press against my inner thighs. His tongue took over my mouth, attacked my tongue. His groans got louder, more desperate. I sucked on his lower lip, biting it and shaking when he let out a rough curse.

Pulling my lips from his, I said, "Condom," and sat up, blood rushing in my ears. "Oh crap. I forgot!"

Probably because you didn't think you'd get this far.

Carlos's breathing was rough and his body shook with held-back need. I was so stupid. So, so stupid. What if I hadn't said anything and he had come inside me? What if I got pregnant and had to explain it to Dad and Claire? Dad would come after Carlos with a big knife and a gun. He'd get arrested for killing the heir to the Ruslavic throne and my brother Liam wouldn't have anyone to play baseball with. Claire would never leave him and would probably waste away, crying herself to sleep every night without her one true love and hating me in her mind.

All because I didn't think of a condom.