Asteria In Love with the Prince Read Online Free PDF

it until it behaved and slipped though, and it was only then that I realized I’d undone a button on my blouse.
    Lucy, what the hell are you doing?
    “Where are we going?” I asked, my hands on the second button. Talking seemed to distract me, give me confidence to keep going.
    “To the airport,” His eyes were on my face: not looking at my chest. Yet.
    The second button popped through its hole. If I looked down, now, I’d see my bra: but I didn’t, couldn’t: I kept my eyes on Jagor’s. “But I need to go home first….”
    He cocked his head and looked at me. “Why?”
    My hands stopped moving. “I need to pack….”
    “We’ll buy you some suitable clothes.”
    What did suitable mean?
    “Please – don’t stop,” he said, as lightly as if I was giving a PowerPoint presentation. I undid another button. My bra was on show now, simple white cups with a hint of lace around the edges. A work bra, not a seduction bra. Somehow that made it even more intimate, that he was making me peel off my work clothes.
    Making me?
    I tried to imagine how I must look from his viewpoint: then I realized I didn’t need to imagine. I caught sight of my reflection in the darkened glass partition behind Jagor’s head and the sight made me gasp. A hot flash of shame flooded my body from my face down to my groin: once there, it became a different kind of heat. Watching my reflection distanced me, made it seem like it was happening to someone else. My hands continued to move. Third button, bra fully on show now. Fourth button.
     “Where are we going?” I asked again. The air in the limo seemed to have become thicker, just as it had in the bathroom,
    “Monaco,” he said simply. He sat back a little, tilting his head to examine me. I freed the next button. Another. Another. It was open down to my navel, now, that small circle of shadow suddenly very personal. The buttons below had no purpose: they wouldn’t expose any more. And yet I found I didn’t want to open them: because I knew what would surely follow next: he’d want me to open my blouse wide, or take it off. Those last few buttons seemed to protect me, somehow.
    He looked me in the eye and then glanced down at the bottom of my blouse. Then back into my eyes.
    I slowly undid the final buttons, my fingers clumsy.
    He sat there in silence for a long moment, staring at me. I felt my heart beat faster and faster, just being watched like that. I was reminded of an animal again, of how a deer must feel when it sees a lion watching it from the long grass. Every second that passed raised the tension in the car, until every quiet breath was like thunder, every word that wasn’t said was like the tick of a giant clock, making me want to scream at him to say something, anything. And yet I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
    “Why are you doing this, Lucy?” he asked.
    I swallowed. ‘Because you asked me to.’
    He smiled. “But what makes you obey me?”
    I took a long, shuddering breath. “I—I don’t know.” My heart was hammering now, harder than it ever had at the gym.
    “Yes you do.”
    I felt the white-hot heat twisting deep inside, sending the feelings shooting through me. Every order he gave me seemed to grasp and pull my center, as if he was playing with me like a marionette, or plucking the strings of an instrument. Every time he spoke, my whole body responded to him, whether my mind wanted it to or not: his voice turned my insides to liquid.
    “You know, but you don’t understand, do you?” he asked.
    I slowly shook my head.
    “I will help you learn. You must always tell me, if you don’t want to do something.” He reached into his suit, and drew out a small jeweler’s box, like you’d keep a ring in.
    OH MY GOD!
    He saw my expression. “I am not asking you to marry me, Lucy.” I blushed and he smiled. He opened the box, and inside there was a ring, carved with symbols. He gestured for my right hand and I laid my small palm in his much larger one. He