by Jessa Kane
And Christ, her legs. Her legs should have poetry written about them, they’re so long and lithe. Perfect for wrapping around my hips.
I’m fucked. I’m so terribly fucked.
“I thought we were banishing our worries until tomorrow,” Britta murmurs, sitting down in front of me. In nothing but a slip. How easy it would be to get the girl on her back and—
“We can banish our worries tonight, Your Majesty,” I rasp. “But that doesn’t mean we can create future worries.”
She leans back on her hands, tightening the material over her tits. So much that I can judge the exact shade of her nipples. “How would we do that?” she asks, tilting her head.
“You know very well,” I nearly growl. “We’ve discussed this. I can’t…”
“Make love to me. I know.” Her breath comes faster now. “But what if you could?”
“Ah Jesus, Britta,” I grit out, burying my head in my hands. “I’d be rutting you day and night. You know that, love. I’d have you on all fours before those green eyes opened in the morning. You’d be bent over so often, your palm prints would be on every piece of furniture in the palace. I never expected you to glance in my direction and what you’ve given me already…what you’ve allowed me…” I swallow hard. “No, I won’t be greedy.”
I glance back up to find her eyes wide as saucers.
“I’m sorry, my queen.” The tips of my ears burn. “I shouldn’t be speaking to you so coarsely. It’s inexcusable of me.”
Something mischievous flickers in Britta’s eyes. It’s the only warning I’m given before she comes to her knees, walking toward me until she can straddle my lap, her little hands perched on my shoulders. Ah God. I know I should stop her, but I can’t. All I can do is sit and let my obsession press her pussy down on my erection, wiggling around a little to get comfortable. “Rexington?” she purrs in my ear, her tongue touching the lobe just slightly. Just enough to make me groan. “I hereby order you to speak to me coarsely.”
My head falls back and my queen kisses my throat, rides her open mouth up my stubble-covered jaw and ghosts her lips over my mouth.
“One day,” I say on a shudder, eager to give Britta what she’s ordered me to give. “One day of kissing and touching and you’ve already learned to be a goddamn weapon, haven’t you? Do you like teasing me with your pretty pink cunt?”
Her nod is vigorous. Breathless. “Yes.”
“Is your pussy wet for another tongue fucking, Your Majesty?”
Britta’s mouth forms an O, her legs jolting around me. “N-no. Well yes. But no.”
“No?” I throw her down on the blankets and palm her sex, molding the wet, little thing in my hand. “Did I not lick your clit well enough this morning, my queen? The way you dripped off my chin afterward says otherwise.”
“Rex!”
Oh God, I need to pull back, rein myself in, but I can’t seem to manage it. I’m horny and jealous and in love and that’s a powerful trifecta. “You asked for my filthy mouth, didn’t you?”
“Y-yes, but…”
“You want to get licked off again,” I shove the hem of her slip up to her waist, groaning over the damp seam of her pussy. Without missing a beat, I part that virgin flesh and dip two fingers inside of her, careful not to push them too deep—and fuck. Fuck. She is tight and hot. Ripe for a man. “I know you do, little girl.”
“Oh!” Her back arches, her eyes seemingly blind. Is my crude speech affecting her so much? Yes. Yes it is. And my pride over pleasing Britta is consuming, makes my temples pound.
But when I remove my fingers and dip my mouth between her legs to start licking, Britta’s fingers twist in my hair, stopping me from descending all the way. “No, I want you inside me,” she sobs.
My cock jerks painfully, demanding I bury it in her virgin pussy. To take take take until we’re both satisfied. Replete. There is nothing I want more in this world than to have Britta completely. Make love to her without restraint, without limits.
I’m held back by the fact that she’d regret it.
Maybe I haven’t even admitted it fully to myself, because the knowledge is painful. It makes my heart feel like it’s been dropped into a vat of acid. Yes, the future king could seek retribution against the man who deflowered his bride. Yes, I could be hanged. Yes, Britta might be ridiculed. That last possibility is the worst. Almost as bad, though, is knowing she doesn’t really want me to make love to her. She’s just confused, caught up in her recent grief, seeking human connection to deal with the pain. When the dark cloud finishes passing over, I won’t have her cringing over such a mistake. Giving her virginity to a hefty brute.
“No, Britta. No.”
Her disappointment is too much to bear. It very nearly breaks me. Drives me mad. Makes me want to tear out every strand of my fucking hair.
And I’m pushed even closer to the edge when she peels the slip off over her head, leaving the queen lusciously naked, her pale skin glowing among the blankets. The bed I made her. A beautiful virgin offering for the beast.
“I want to belong to you for one night. Completely.”
“You don’t,” I say thickly, unable to keep my eyes off the bounty in front of me. A feast fit for kings, not inconsequential guards. “You don’t really want that.”
“Don’t tell me what I want.” She sits up and presses her mouth to mine, giving me no choice but to kiss her ravenously, with every ounce of frustration and love inside of me. With every wild, anguished beat of my heart. And then her hand finds my erection, stroking it through my pants, cradling my balls, massaging them until I heave a curse, breaking the kiss.
“Britta,” I growl.
“I hereby order you to make love to me, Rexington Monroe,” she whispers.
And my tether snaps.
Britta
Ever since I learned about the mechanics of sexual congress between a man and a woman, I’ve always assumed it would be terribly awkward. Two barely acquainted people in a stuffy bedchamber just trying to get it over with. And if I allow Rex to bring me back to the palace tonight and marry a prince, that is exactly how my first time will be. I can’t allow that.
This whole evening has been one magical moment after another and I know—I know—it was all leading to this. This moment when Rex flattens me on the blankets, his mouth hungrily tasting mine, tongue desperate, his large, working man’s hands on my bare breasts. I am vulnerable to him. Naked. A virgin. And he’s going to have me.
I’m going to have him.
I’m going to collect this one incredible night and live off it for decades.
Or maybe not. Maybe there will be thousands of these nights, Rex loving me beneath the starry sky, his perfectly substantial weight bearing down on me.
Maybe…I’m being a little strategic.
If Rex and I make love, surely he won’t be able to let me go. Let me marry a prince.
What if Rex has been my prince all along? The eventual king who will rule beside me? There is no one more suited to the job. He is a giant among men. A fair-minded, hard-working, lion-hearted hero. The court will push back against the idea, but I will fight them. I will marry for love and protect the kingdom at the same time. Sure, we will be losing a potential alliance, but we will be gaining a man with a lion heart and great courage.
A stubborn one, as well.
Yes, stubborn.
So I can’t just come right out and ask him to be my king. I have to give him some time to come around to the idea. I have to make it impossible for him to let me go. Starting now.
Rex’s mouth lets mine go, his lust-lightened eyes boring into mine a moment before his lips trail down my throat, kissing every inch of my sensitive skin. His journey propels him lower until he’s lapping at my nipples, both of my breasts clutched in his huge hands, squeezing slightly, holding me in place for his licking and suckling. That’s when I discover there is a buzzing hot wire between my nipples and the place between my legs, for it swiftly grows wet and achy until I’m actu
ally pushing Rex’s mouth toward my sex, begging in clipped whines and sobs.
He laughs darkly against my belly, his thumb parting my flesh like he owns it, rubbing up and back over my swollen nub. “Are you ordering me to lick the royal pussy, my queen?”
“Yes.”
“Say it, then.” He kisses my mound, each of my inner thighs. “I like coarse words, too.”
“I couldn’t,” I gasp.
“Say it, Britta.”
“Lick me, please,” I say in a rush, closing my eyes. “Use you tongue on me as if it’s the only meal you need for the rest of your life.”
Rex’s answering groan is pure, shocked gratification and it vibrates me head to toe, rewarding me for being bold. “That’s not such a stretch, love.” Eyes on my face, he drags the tip of his tongue through the slick valley of my sex, once, twice. “I’m going to put my fingers inside your gorgeous, little cunt. Deep, my queen. To make you ready for me.” His middle finger presses into my opening, going farther than I expect, so I suck in a breath, trying to get used to the full sensation. “I’ll be plucking your cherry this way. When I can still soothe the sting with my tongue and go slow,” he grits out. “Because once my cock is inside you, I’m going to lose my fucking head.”
I nod. Somehow, with my limited knowledge of sex, Rex’s explanation makes sense—and I trust him. I trust him with my heart, my body, my life. “Okay,” I breathe.
Watching me closely, he milks his middle finger in and out of me, until the sounds of my wetness fill the stall. I might have been embarrassed by that if Rex wasn’t so turned on, his breath shuddering out, eyelids drooping.
He adds his ring finger, plunging those two thick digits deep then shallow, his tongue swiping back and forth over my clit. And slowly, that pump of his fingers goes from uncomfortable to incredible. I’m hinging on the next inward slide, outward draw, my hips rolling in time with the movements.
“You’re so bloody beautiful,” he rasps, pressing his face to my stomach. “Grab hold of my hair, love.” I do as I’m told—and he takes a long, shuddering inhale, punching his two fingers past my virginity, ripping a harsh cry from my throat. “Shhhh. My love, my love, it’ll get better soon. I promise.”
The anguish, the reverence, the emotion packed into those words anchor me and I look down to find I’m practically ripping his hair out. Immediately, I loosen my grip and as I do, my womanhood begins to adjust around his fingers. I force myself to relax, to focus on his tongue, which is back on my clit, licking me eagerly, trying to dim the pain—and his care of me brings back the desire even stronger this time. “Rex…” I whisper. “I’m ready.”
He lifts his head, the hunger in his eyes making my heart race.
After one final lapping lick of my buzzing hive of nerves, he comes to his knees and grips the hem of his white shirt. He hesitates slightly, then strips it off. And I quite simply gape at his perfectly padded brawn. I was right about his hair. There is a lot of it, black and thick, the abundance of it caressing his broad chest and thick belly lovingly.
Rex looks down at himself. “This body is not worthy of you,” he says, unfastening his pants. “But my cock is long and sturdy. It will service you well. I’ll see to it.”
With that, he unloads his shaft from his pants and I suck in a breath. Long and sturdy do not begin to cover it. The sight of him is almost…crude. Nestled in a thatch of black hair, his sex is wide-veined, curved upward. Mottled red from the pressure within, it has the circumference of my ankle. For all its fearsome qualities, it is the most sensual, exciting thing I’ve ever seen.
“You are beautiful,” I whisper. “Every inch.”
He swallows, emotion flickering in his eyes, and reaches down to cup me between the legs, gathering my virgin blood in his palm and smearing it across his chest, growling in a gratified manner as he performs the task. Then he drops all that glorious weight down on top of me, positioning his hips between my thighs. “It will be the greatest honor of my life to ride you, my queen.” His mouth finds mine, kissing it slowly, thoroughly, his tongue sinking into my mouth again and again. “To bring you to orgasm. To make the smoothest thighs in all the kingdom and beyond shake around me.”
I stroke my hands through the unruly black hair atop his, coasting them down his back, running my knees up and down his heaving ribcage. “I want to please you, too.”
His laugh is a rough scrape of sound. “A given, love.” Rex guides his shaft between my legs, making a sound in his throat as he feeds several inches into my body. “Christ, but my queen is so tight. You’re just a wee girl of eighteen, aren’t you?” he grits out. “I should be ashamed of how soundly I want to fuck you.”
My sex contracts to the tune of his rough language, my hands flying to his shoulders and clinging tight when the discomfort begins to take hold. I look up at Rex, trying to show him all the trust I have in my heart for him—and he seems to momentarily lose his breath over it, before he chokes out a desperate sound and punches forward with his hips, seating himself completely inside of me.
There is a sharp twinge of pain in my middle, the discomfort of being stretched so completely. Without reverse. I can feel him making me his and that visceral proof of being claimed steals my focus from the hurt. And I just see Rex. Just feel Rex.
“Britta. Ah God,” he pants. “Sweet fucking hell, it’s so warm and wet.”
He wasn’t lying when he told me he’d lose his head.
Rex moans, low and masculine, his jaw unhinging. His big body heaves down onto mine, that bulky lower body seems to thrust involuntarily, pushing my thighs open by force, flesh smacking into flesh in quick succession. For long moments, he seems unable to do anything but…but rut me with great, brutal drives, before visibly reining himself in on a groan.
“Forgive me,” he says brokenly into my neck. “I’ve never known heaven like this.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, grazing his scalp with my fingernails. “I love it.”
He breathes relief over my fevered skin and balances himself on his right forearm, trailing the fingertips of his left hand down to my breasts. He teases my nipples by rolling them between his big, blunt fingers, molding the whole of my breasts in his palms. Loving them openly. Eyes locked on mine, as if voracious for the knowledge of what I like, the journey of his hand continues downward until he reaches my clit, pressing against my swelling nub, creating a slick, firm pattern that has me gasping for air. And as he wrecks me with his touch, he tunnels his huge sex into me, pulling out and slapping straight in, faster and harder each time, grunting, the muscles in his thick buttocks flexing and straining.
There is no trace of the discomfort now. There is only Rex on top of me, the very picture of a warrior enjoying the spoils of war. He blocks out the rest of the world, whittling my existence down to the breadth of his mountainous shoulders, the sensual chafe of his chest hair raking up and down over my breasts, abrading my nipples deliciously.
I’m being driven to the brink by his fingers between my legs, but the sensation of being…plowed full is so base and raw, it unlocks a sexual appetite I didn’t know I possessed. I start to focus on that pounding inside me, the magical lands Rex reaches with every punch of his shaft, and my body quickens violently, an ominous eddy swirling in my belly.
“Is my queen enjoying that cock?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Tell me it’s yours,” he begs gruffly, his glazed eyes imploring me.
That requests lifts me higher, closer to the precipice, bringing me to another level of this connection between us. I know exactly what he wants and I have need to give it. This is our own language, true and honest and urgent. “That big, stiff thing between your thighs is mine, Rexington,” I say, yanking his head down, so I can speak right against his ear. “It serves me and only me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he heaves, pushing my knees up to my shoulders, bearing down on me with breathless desperation, that big body in a blurred state of motion, animali
stic mating. “Only you. Only you.”
“Come inside me,” I purr, burying my nails in his back and ripping them downward, gripping the hard slabs of his buttocks, slapping them, making him bellow choppily. “Come inside me as deep as you can.”
“No, Britta, no.” And yet he thrusts harder, his hands scooping beneath my bottom to hold me stationary for his ferocious drives. “I cannot do that!”
I lock my ankles behind his back. “That’s an order.”
“Ahhh fuck. Fuck.” He grits his teeth and starts to shake. “I can’t stop it. My seed is coming, love. But I will have your satisfaction first.”
He flattens me, all of his weight on top of me now, rutting me furiously, his hot breath echoing in my ear. I didn’t have far to go to begin with, but the animal quality in him awakens mine and I begin rubbing my sex on the fat trunk of his. Meeting him slap for slap, grind for grind, my teeth digging into the meat of his shoulder, the climax washing over my head and dragging me down.
“The queen comes for me,” he roars triumphantly, rearing back and rapping a fist to his blood-smeared chest. “I make you come, Britta.”
“Yes, Rex.” My head thrashes side to side, my body squeezing around his impossibly large shaft, already sore from the force of the constrictions. “My Rex.”
My claim makes him jerk and his eyes go blind, that huge body stilling. His mouth falls open and he moans, long and low, wet warmth hitting my womb in ropey spurts.
“My Britta,” he roars.
Just as I asked, he holds himself in the deepest possible recesses of my body, unloading himself with violent shudders, his hoarse groans echoing in my ear. Long moments pass of Rex in the throes, my backside caught in his bruising grip, his seed overflowing my sex and soaking into the blankets, dripping down my legs, into his palms.
Finally, he heaves himself down onto the blankets beside me, a sheen of sweat shining on his hearty body, and I can’t help a sense of feminine satisfaction to have felled this gorgeous giant with my body. And my love. His arms go around me and he holds me against his chest, rocking me to sleep, holding me like he’ll never let me go.
