Princess Vittoria Olympia of the Romana Family of Olympus
We didn't make it to the bed.
We made it to the edge of it, and that was far enough.
Campbell's mouth was still on mine, hot and unhurried in a way that made my knees feel unreliable, and his hands were braced on either side of me on the mattress like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. My fingers were twisted in his damp hair, and I could feel the way his chest rose and fell against me, too fast, like he was trying to match my breathing.
It was stupid. It was reckless. It was the first thing that had felt honest in months.
And then there was a knock.
Three soft, deliberate taps against the door. Polite. Royal. The kind of knock that meant someone had been standing there for a full minute deciding whether or not to use it.
We froze.
