by Vivian Wood
“Ahh!” I gasp. “God, that feels so good.”
He smirks, looking up at me. “Everything I do to your body should feel that good.”
Then he elbows me aside, lying down. I look at him a little quizzically, but in the next second he lifts me onto his body, so that I’m straddling him. He angles me so that he’s planted face first between my breasts, and my bare ass is in the air. I’m a little shocked at how easily he picked me up, but he clearly has other things on his mind.
He licks the skin between my breasts with his tongue, then pulls one nipple into his mouth. I moan as he bites it and sucks it, alternating pain and pleasure for me. His hands wander down to my hips. He runs his hands over my ass, groaning as he shapes my body.
He releases my breast with a wet pop, looking up at me. “Fuck. Do you know how turned on I am?”
I blush, slowly shaking my head. “Uh uh.”
He pushes my hips down until my pussy is pressed directly against his cock through his unbuttoned jeans. We both groan as he bucks up against me. He runs his hand through my hair, fisting it, and uses his hand on my hip to guide me just where he wants me.
I gasp silently as he lifts his hips and bears down on me, his denim-clad cock almost touching my clit. He starts kissing and licking my neck. He sucks the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, bucking his hips up, and my eyes roll back into my head.
“Fuck!” I cry. “Lars—”
He’s not satisfied with that, though. He releases me, pushing me off of his lap. I’m left breathing hard. He gets up and starts to peel his jeans off.
I’m taken aback for a moment by the image of Lars, completely naked. He’s all muscle, his cock juts proudly out… and right now, he’s looking at me like he’s going to consume me.
He climbs onto the bed, dragging me down to lie beneath him, and he starts kissing my neck again. I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him closer. I can feel his hardness against my thigh, long and hot and throbbing. He sucks at my neck, my breasts, and then he moves lower.
I don’t know if I can even handle his mouth on my clit, but he passionately kisses my thighs and my knees. His five o’clock shadow tickles me in the best way. I open my legs wide for him, spreading my thighs. He makes a growling sound as he kisses my clit, and my whole body is suddenly alive with electric sensation.
“Oh my god!” I cry out, my hands burying in his hair.
Already, I’m bucking my hips against his mouth, desperate for more. He closes his mouth around my clit and sucks on it in long pulls, each one sending ripples of sensation up my spine. My toes curl as he brings his hand up to my pussy and introduces one thick finger. He ever so slowly pushes his finger inside as he circles my clit with his tongue.
I come suddenly, clenching and crying out. His tongue slows, helping me ride out my orgasm. Soon though, he climbs up my body, kissing me hard. I taste the faint flavor of my own juices on his tongue and shudder.
He pulls back a little bit, grasping his cock and positioning himself just so. The blunt tip of his cock presses against my pussy, and I still for just a second. I’m busy looking at his cock, biting my lip with anticipation of how he’s about to stretch me out. He pushes inside the barest inch.
I gasp, feeling so full of his hot cock.
Lars glances down at me, biting his lip. “You’re so tight, Pippa.”
I’m honestly not sure if that’s a good thing or not, judging by his face alone. He looks like he’s trying to defuse a bomb or something. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling at him a little, urging him onward.
He closes his eyes and pushes himself inside, inch by slow inch. I feel like he’s stretching me out, little by little, filling me up and touching every single part of me. It’s uncomfortable, even though I’m wet, but I push for more. When he is finally inside me to the hilt, he opens his eyes, staring down at me with the most intense aquiline gaze I’ve ever experienced.
I look him right in the eye, remembering that I’m in love with him. I don’t care that his dick is so big that it hurts a little; I’m too busy being stupidly, dumbly in love with Lars.
I reach up to pull his mouth down to mine, tenderly kissing him. He kisses me back, starting to move his body, withdrawing his cock and then thrusting back in.
“Ahhh, that’s so good,” he mutters, raising himself up so that he can see our bodies joined together. “Fuck, Pippa. God, you’re so damned beautiful.”
He grabs my wrists and pulls them up above my head, working his thick cock in and out of my pussy. I dig my heels into his upper back as he starts kissing and biting my neck again. I start to forget the discomfort, focusing instead on the pleasure of his lips on my skin, the wonderful weight of his body against mine.
I moan as he releases my hands in order to palm my breasts. It feels natural to wrap my arms around him, to lightly rake my fingernails down his back.
Lars suddenly withdraws from me, flipping me over. He guides me to my hands and knees, positioning his cock at my entrance before he plunges back inside.
“Ohhh!” I cry out, feeling my innermost muscles clench.
“Your pussy feels so good,” he grits out. He takes my hand and guides it down to my clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. “I want you to come. Show me what a good girl you are. Make yourself come for me.”
His words send a shudder of pleasure down my spine. He lets go of my hand and grabs my hips, thrusting his cock into me again and again, as hard as he can. I call out, an insensible sound, as I start to touch myself.
The way he is fucking me now is rougher, coarser than before… but for some reason I like it more. A lot more. I close my eyes, rubbing my clit, and feeling the brutal way he handles me, ramming into me over and over again.
An invisible spring tightens deep inside me with every thrust, feeding my craving. My fingers help me along, but it’s really Lars’s cock that makes little ripples of pleasure swell and burst across my body.
He’s touching some spot deep inside me, a spot that I seem to be able to angle my body just so to encourage him to hit over and over again.
“Yes,” I groan desperately. “Yes, right there… I…”
And then I’m calling out his name, screaming it, as I go over the edge, falling into a deep ocean of pleasure. He stiffens and growls, filling me with three single, brutal thrusts. I can feel him pulsing inside my pussy.
He slows at last, half-collapsing on the bed with me. He turns me over, kissing me tenderly.
I curl up against his chest, completely satisfied, and feel like a warm glove has been wrapped around my body.
23
Lars
“Move that stack of boxes right over here by the door,” I say. “Be careful.”
“Sir.” The mover hauls the last of Pippa's boxes into the huge main room of my loft apartment and sets them down.
I smile at him, passing him a fat wad of cash as a tip. “Thank you. And remember, Pippa and I are really not telling anyone that we are moving in together yet. So if by chance someone tells the newspapers about us living together, I'm going to blame you. I'm going to blame your company. You don't want to know what kind of legal headaches that will entail for you guys. Okay?”
He swallows, nodding. “Yes, sir.”
He hurries off down the hall, pressing the elevator button insistently. As soon as he is in the elevator and the doors are closed, I turn around and look at my messy apartment. There are boxes on every surface and I've given up two entire closets to Pippa's enormous clothes collection. But I did actually convince her to move in… At least for the time being.
Pippa sticks her head out of the bedroom, brushing back her magnificent curls. “Is that the last of the boxes?”
“It was,” I say, smirking a little as I sauntered towards her. “You're officially a resident now.”
She rolls her eyes, a little flush rising in her cheeks. “I'm not officially anything and you know it. This whole moving in business is just to further your little deception. Let's not forget that.�
�
I sidle up to her in the doorway of my bedroom, leaning against the frame and leaving only a few inches between us. “I hear you talking, but I don't see your point.” I look down at her loose black tank top and black leggings, running a finger down her shoulder and into her cleavage. She giggles, embarrassed, and smacks my hand away.
“I am busy unpacking!” she protests. She can't help but grin as she says it though. “Look, I'll make you a deal. We will unpack a whole room and then after we’re done with that, we will take a break together. Does that sound okay?"
I pull a face. “You're no fun. Didn’t I offer to have people sent here from the royal palace to unpack your things for you?”
She shoots me a look. “This is what normal couples do. They move in together and they are messy and they don't have servants to attend to their every need. People all over the world do this exact same thing. Whether they're in a real relationship or not.”
I groan and roll my eyes. “Ja, whatever. Just promise me that when we finally get naked, you will let me do that thing I brought up last night.”
She glances at me, wide-eyed. “Are you talking about… anal?”
I wink at her. “I may be. Have I ever done anything to you that you didn't like?”
She gives her head a tiny shake. “No.”
“Then start unpacking somewhere. Pick a room.” I frown. “A small room. Let's get this show on the road.”
She looks around with a sigh. Pursing her lips, she heads toward the second bedroom. “I might as well start in the closet. I can't think of the last time that I even looked in your spare bedroom…”
She pads down my hallway and disappears inside the second bedroom. I follow her with a frown. It's not that I don't trust her, per se. It's just that there are several boxes tucked away in the walk in closet that are full of my personal things.
Childhood mementos, long distance use sportswear items, and some heavy jackets that have been long forgotten about. Blowing out a breath, I turn and head out of my second bedroom and start grabbing the heavier boxes. Pippa may be mostly disorganized, but she is on top of her packing and moving game. Every box has a tag with specific components that can be found within the boxes contents. Dress shirts, summer. Or books, not for rereading.
I sort through the boxes, starting with the heaviest ones, and figure that I should bring her the clothes into the closet she’ll be using first. It turns out that Pippa has a million different boxes of clothes, at least forty percent of what she owns.
So for a little while, it's just a lot of moving boxes into the spare bedroom. I stack them all neatly by the wall and figure that she will just find the ones that she needs. After I move things for a while though, I get curious about what Pippa is up to.
I stick my head into the walk in closet, finding Pippa up on her knees, sifting through a box of my stuff. A knot forms in my stomach. She wasn't supposed to be looking at any of my old stuff. She's just supposed to be making room for hers.
But when she turns her head and looks at me with the biggest, brightest grin, the knot loosens a little.
She raises a picture of all of the Løve siblings, taken when I was probably four years old. We are wearing matching naval uniforms and all looking bored. “I didn't mean to find this,” she swears. “But look at how serious you were as a child. Look at your face!”
I sigh. “Ja, I like the fact that we are all wearing matching outfits. Somebody thought that was a good idea, apparently.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I think it's kind of cute actually.” She takes the picture back from me, sticking it back in the box full of mementos. Just underneath it is a plastic binder that I vaguely recognize. I step in the closet and reach down, pulling the binder loose.
My lips curl up. “Ah. So, I remember this well. My English tutor as a kid was a failed poet. So we all had to learn about poetry.” I laugh a little, flipping through the pages. “Here's the very cutesy poem that I did about a ladybug.”
Pippa gets to her feet, coming over and peering over my arm. “The ladybug has tons of spots, which should go on and on, red and black…”
She looks at me, touching my arm. “You're adorable. I mean, you were adorable. But also, that you are now.”
I hand her the sheaf of papers, clearing my throat. “I'll have you know that I did the best out of all my siblings on this specific subject, according to the would-be poet. So there you go.”
She grins, returning the paper to the box and tucking it inside before closing the flaps. “You mind moving this over there?” She points. “I'm trying to make space.”
I grunt and move the box for her. She sort of sighs. “It figures you would be good at that. You're good at everything. When we were in school together, I was often jealous of the fact that you were just effortlessly talented at everything.”
I cock a brow. “It is hard to be in the presence of perfection, I can only assume.”
She shakes her head, continuing as if I hadn’t spoken. “God, remember how we both got really into photography for a while there? You were so good at it. It drove me nuts.”
My lips twitch. “Ja, I think when we were around fifteen years old. I had a dark room installed in the royal palace, as I remember. I spent many hours there for about three months and then…” I shrug.
Her lips curl up. “I think that was right around the age that you discovered how to drive. Another thing that you are just so stupidly good at. Ugh, was there anything that you weren't naturally good at?”
I roll my eyes. “Well, it helps that I came in second to Stellan at basically everything. Not only at being the crown prince, but almost everything else as well. I only look good to you because you aren't witnessing how badly I was beaten in every competition on a regular basis.”
Her eyes narrowed a little on my face. “What? What competitions were you and Stellan part of?”
I turn around, shaking my head. Walking out of the door, I yell back at her. “Anything and everything. Stellan was groomed to be the king from an early age. And I was always kept as his backup. It was fucked up, looking back at it. I didn’t know that at the time, though.”
I walk out into the main area of my apartment, pursing my lips. My eyes roam around, trying to decide which box to pick up next.
Pippa follows me out of the bedroom, a frown on her face. “Give me an example.”
I shrug. “I don't know. When we were in school together, before I was sent to St. Matthews, we would often go head to head over spelling or naming the world capitals. Or really any subject. And it seemed like Stellan, for only being a year older than me, easily had the answers to everything. It wasn't fair, or didn't seem that way at the time.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
“My entire life growing up I was compared to Stellan, told that I was the second choice. You know, until Stellan reached eighteen, I wasn’t allowed to do anything fun. Nothing dangerous, nothing risky, nothing that could possibly put me in harm’s way.”
Pippa tilts her head a little. “I remember there being a long list of things you were supposed to do, yes. I also remember that you and I did most of them anyway.” She smiles a little. “Remember when we climbed up that mountain and all the teachers at St. Matthew’s were looking for us for hours? God, we caused much trouble.”
I smile at that. “I remember that we both forgot to wear sunscreen on that trip and we got back to the school and had the worst sunburn ever. I just remember that I couldn't sleep because I was so sunburned.”
Pippa sidles up to me, catching my wrist and pulling me closer. I grab her around her waist and lift her up, my lips lifting as well. “I thought we are supposed to be unpacking things.”
She wrinkles her nose and presses a kiss to my lips. Maybe I was hasty, deciding not to take advantage of the helpers that you offered. I forgot that unpacking things is just so boring.”
A deep rumble slips from my chest. “You know what's not boring?”
Her eyebrows raise a little bit. “What?”
I wiggle my eyes brows at her. “I'm so glad you asked.”
I carry her into my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me, and she giggles with glee.
24
Lars
“Just keep going,” I say aloud to myself. “No matter what, just keep going.”
I'm jogging on a treadmill hooked up to the space agency’s many machines, measuring my heart rate, pulls, oxygen level, and of course speed. I’ve been running for almost twenty minutes now and I'm starting to feel some serious fatigue.
That really is the point of this test; what happens when I feel fatigue?
Sweat rolls down my brow, soaking my shirt. I'm aware of a tiny bit twinge in my left foot, just above the heel. But I don't let myself be distracted by it. Instead, I look straight ahead and count to myself. Someone a long time ago told me that counting to thirty would give me the purpose needed to run any length of time. And I have kept it going since then. I just count to thirty then start over again.
The clock to the right of my field of vision hits twenty minutes, blinking in bright red letters. I slow my pace on the treadmill, breathing hard. I'm used to running ten miles every day as a regular course of affairs, but I'm rarely running flat out as I am now.
I spend about half a minute slowing my pace, coming to a halt finally. I'm winded, sucking in deep long pulls of air, leaning on the treadmills arms as I press the stop button.
“Very good,” the older doctor says, stepping in front of me. He smiles at me kindly, motioning for me to get down off the treadmill. “Please, come down. We can remove all your guide wires now.”
I breathe out. “How did I do?"
The doctor smiles lightly. “You did well, I'm very sure.”
“Ja? How did I do in comparison with the other candidates?”
He gives me a cool little smile. “I'm sure you did well.”
He removes the guide wires and the bits of plastic stuck to my chest then steps back. “That's all we need right now. Have a good day, your royal highness.”
