Prince Albert: A Billionaire Stepbrother Romance by Sabrina Paige Page B

don’t know what kind of women you’ve been with in the past, but you’re not giving me –“
    He cuts me off, putting his fingers – the fingers that were just inside me – on my lips to silence me.  “Shhh,” he says.  “I’m not finished.  You should let me finish, Belle.”
    I push his hand away.  “I’m not listening to –“
    Before I can react, his hands are on my wrists, pushing me against the wall, and my heart races.  I’m not sure whether I’m frustrated, angry, or aroused.  All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about him inside me.  And, despite the rational part of my mind that screams ‘walk away,’ every part of my body is crying out for his touch.  I want to know what he wants to do with me.
    I want him inside me.
    “You’re going to come on my cock, Belle,” he says.  “I’m going to own you in every way possible.  And you’re going to beg to be mine.”
    A secret thrill rushes through me at his words, and I hate myself for it.  I steel my jaw, wrenching my wrists from his grasp.  “Never,” I say.  “And you’re delusional for thinking that.”
    And yet, in spite of myself, I’m already wondering what he means by saying he wants to own me “in every way possible.”
    He chuckles, and the self-satisfied sound makes me want to slap him across the face.  But I don’t.  Instead, I mentally congratulate myself on my incredible self-restraint.
    Then he steps away, turning around and walking toward the end of the alley, ambling like he doesn’t have a care in the world.  “Come on, luv,” he says.  “Noah’s bound to be sending a search party out for us.  I wouldn’t want you to get caught with your pants down.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    Albie
     
    Belle is ignoring me, sitting in the helicopter with her headset on, her arms crossed over her chest.  She’s practically pouting.
    I hate pouting.  Hate it more than anything in the world.  I hate whining and sighing, the passive-aggressive crap I get from women when I don’t want to see them again.  Which is, obviously, every time.
    I should hate the way Belle sits there, silent, acting as if I don’t exist.
    I should hate the way her lower lip protrudes slightly, displaying her displeasure.
    I should hate the way she was excessively friendly the rest of the afternoon, formal to the point of ridiculous, all “Prince Albert this” and “Prince Albert that.”
    The problem is, I don’t hate any of it.  I don’t hate it at all.
    I fucking love it.
    I love the fact that her lower lip is still swollen from my mouth on hers, even hours after I kissed her.
    I love that she’s on edge.
    And I love the fact that I know why she’s so irritable, so on edge.
    I love that it’s because of me.
    I'm doing my last-minute pre-flight checklist, when Noah interrupts.  "Max has your sister, sir," he says.  "We'll need to wait a few minutes."
    Max brought my sister back from her jaunt off to wherever with Finn Asher?  Okay, so the thought makes me laugh.  I can't help myself.  Alex is going to be pissed as hell when she comes back.  I can't imagine the earful the bodyguard is getting right about now.
    When the dark-colored SUV pulls up in the driveway, Max gets out, opening the back door and obviously arguing with my sister for a minute, before throwing her over his shoulder and walking toward us. Alex unleashes a litany of expletives as she punches him on the back.
    "Your bodyguards have an interesting method of doing their jobs," Belle says, half-under her breath, into the headset.
    "If we came back without Alexandra, my father would fire him," I tell her.
    Max deposits Alex firmly on the seat beside Belle, and Alexandra gives him the dirtiest of dirty looks.  "When we get back to the palace, I'm getting a new bodyguard," she say, her voice getting louder as she speaks.  "One who isn't a fucking caveman!"
    "Be my guest, Princess," Max says, sliding into his seat.  He ignores her when she calls him a