Sold to the King

by Falcone, Carmen

  They had a lot to work out, but now he needed to show her how much he wanted her. How much he’d do for her if she let him—if she trusted him.

  He removed his mouth from hers, sliding his tongue down her graceful neck. Groaning, he worked his way down her body, licking the valley between her breasts, greeting the hard peaks with the flick of his tongue, then resuming his mission to bring her undone.

  When he was eye level with her pussy, he pushed in her scent of female arousal, and nudged her legs open. Eagerly, he thrust his tongue between her soaked pussy lips, reveling in that sweet, tangy, remarkable taste. God, he could feast on her delicious cream forever.

  “Nassor. So. Good.”

  His cock strained against his pants, and he unzipped himself with his free hand, for some release. He felt the pre-cum dampening his underwear, so he pushed it down, and his dick jutted out, hard as fuck.

  He slid his tongue between her pussy lips, alternating between sucking her from top to bottom, teasing her with the tip of his tongue. She quivered, her thighs trembling, but he kept them in place, determined to keep at it no matter how fidgety she became.

  His own desire pounding on his pulse points warned he wouldn’t be able to delay his pleasure for long. Damn it, he had to try. He couldn’t get off before she did.

  To ease some of his pain, he stroked himself, catching some of his jism, then rubbing it in her pussy. He loved when his liquid drenched from her thighs, his scent on her most intimate spot. He thrust his fingers into her cunt, finger fucking her until she thrust her pussy into his hands, riding it, grinding his fingers. His pulse vibrated, and he stroked himself harder, squeezing the tip of his cock, desperate for a release. She came, and he didn’t let up, continuing to slam his fingers in and out of her relentlessly, all through her first and second orgasms, even if that killed him.

  With balls heavy and tight, he stood when she paced her breathing, and put her on the counter. She wrapped her legs around him, welcoming him, egging him on. He plunged into her sex, fucking hard and deep, all the way to the hilt. She clenched her pussy lips around him, so fucking tight, it was like she was a virgin again.

  “See what you do to me, sweetheart,” he said.

  “God, Nassor, I love when you fuck me like that. Touch my ass too.”

  “Do you want me in there?” he asked.

  “Yes. Yes. In both places.”

  Sweat sheened his forehead. Adrenaline arrowed into his bloodstream, spiking his heart rate even higher. His dirty virgin enjoyed double penetration…hmm. “No one else will fuck you, do you understand?” He cupped her chin, to make it clear. A shiver of possessiveness rolled down his spine. “Ever.”

  “Only you,” she said, her eyes darkening in a haze. The same one he experienced.

  Her answer made his shoulders relax a bit. He circled his fingers round her, and she was already spreading her cheeks when he slipped two digits into her back entrance. She threw her head back, a delightful flush covering her cheeks. Turned on, he didn’t ease into it like he had before, and slammed his fingers into her naughty channel, while finger fucking her pussy without reprieve. “Oh, yes. This.”

  She bucked in between his hands, thrusting her sweet ass into his fingers, then rocking forward. He intensified his plunges in both entrances, as pleasure built inside him—a pleasure he could no longer deny. She jerked her body, then quivered, her moans filling the air, and he kept his eyes on hers the entire time.

  Gorgeous. Stunning. With a growl, he announced his own release, and felt the hot gushes thundering through his dick into her cunt. He trembled, his body roaring with the aftermath. Damn. He hadn’t planned on going all the way here in the bathroom, but resisting her was a hard task.

  He picked her up then carried her from the bathroom and deposited her on the bed, plopping next to her. An adorable shade of pink pinched her skin. “You’re amazing, Izzy.”

  “I’m alive, and that’s a feat after what we just did.”

  He chuckled. “Killing you wouldn’t be a good thing.”

  She tensed up, and it dawned on him. Shit. Her stepmother had been killed, probably, and that was no laughing matter. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs one over the other and pulling the bedspread to cover her nakedness.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of what’s happening.”

  “It’s okay. I know you trust the guy who you sent to pick up Obasi. I appreciate all you’re doing, but from now on I need to be involved in every way. No more giving me the news—I want to discover it.”

  “You got it.” He sat next to her. “I’ll do anything for you, my love,” he said, the words parting from his lips before he had the chance to filter them.

  She looked away, then when he nudged her side, a playful way to dispel the tension, she gazed back at him. A glint of fear flashed in her eyes, and she chewed her bottom lip. He cleared his throat, processing the reality of their situation. Declaring his love for her had scared her. She seemed uneasy, confused. I have to be patient—but how?

  How could he wait until she loved him in return? That could take forever—or never happen. In the meantime, he had a country to rule and obligations.

  “You looked very handsome tonight,” she said, with a tentative glance at him. “I’m a history teacher and the idea of a real king being into me is insane.”

  “You’d better get used to it.”

  A small lump bobbed its way down her throat. “I know,” she said, in a small voice. “I just want you. Now,” she said, reaching to touch his cock, awakening it again, “inside me, inside me so deep everything else will disappear.”

  He pulled her into his lap and lowered his lips to hers, kissing her with so much intensity, as if the secret to convince her to open up to him lay in his mouth. He grazed her lips, needing to sink his teeth into her flesh, needing her to feel the same sting of lust overpowering him so quickly.

  She moaned, a sexy sound he could hear forever, and upped her game, intensifying the claim of his mouth, too, embracing him tight. She didn’t need to say it out loud—he got the message. She wanted him quick, rough, and deep.

  And I’m going to give it to her.

  …

  A crazy need to have him inside her arrowed through Izzy.

  When he’d overwhelmed her with his kind words, she’d decided to take charge and ask him to screw her. The only way for her to shut down the background noise in her head. The nagging doubts.

  He shoved the linen aside, and she reveled in the skin-to-skin contact, and the perfect mold of their bodies. He was hard where she was soft. He had ridges where she had curves. She wrapped her legs around him, her pearly cream coating her folds, a deep craving coiling low in her stomach.

  “Nassor.”

  “That’s right, baby. That’s the name you’ll be screaming when I fuck your ass soon.”

  The idea sent another thrill of excitement through her. She’d never imagine she’d long for him to take her in such a wicked place, but when he’d played in there with his fingers, the in-and-out friction teased all her nerves and she enjoyed it.

  He slid his fingers into her pussy, kneading her folds, flicking her clit. “You’re drenched for me. Oh, yes, Izzy.”

  With a sexy growl, he flipped them around and put her on all fours. Drunk with desire, she swayed a bit, her hips undulating, and she found it impossible to keep still. He placed his palm on the small of her back, and the warmth of his hand propped her to stop moving. He nudged her thighs open with his leg, the promise of what was about to come quickening her heart rate. He quickly walked to her nightstand, retrieving the lube from the first drawer. She heard him squirt some of it on his fingers.

  She tossed a glance over her shoulder to find him behind her with an intense gaze at her ass. She licked her lips, a shiver traveling up her spine.

  He ran his fingers between her ch
eeks, and a jolt of awareness throbbed in her cunt, swelling her clit painfully fast.

  She whimpered, clenching the bedspread, lost in a mix of wanting him to claim her ass and wanting him to have already done so. The experience craved and feared—much like his love.

  “Nassor. Please.”

  He slid two fingers into her hole, playing with it, stretching it like he’d done before. The lube warmed inside her, causing little sizzles of awareness to tingle in her anus. “Touch yourself,” he said.

  She slid her hand down to her sex, cupping, feeling the wet heat before she even slid fingers into her pussy. She mimicked some of the movements he’d done so many times, slamming deep into her then retreating only to return again.

  He caressed her hole with more vigor, and when she began teasing her clit, he rubbed the thick head of his cock into her back entrance. She sucked in her breath, then exhaled, trying to relax her muscles for the sweet invasion. Without a word, he waited for her, and only resumed easing inside when she loosened her shoulders. “Play with your naughty clit, babe… I love the way it throbs on my tongue when I’m eating you.”

  She caught the pulsing nub between her index and middle finger and squeezed it, sending a shot of pleasure up her body—the current so strong, it almost made her buckle her limbs and fall on the mattress. He inched more of his cock inside her, a discomfort pinching her bottom and traveling through her body. To distract from the ache, she inserted three fingers into her wet pussy, then kept a shallow invade and retreat motion, violently, quickly.

  Little dots dimmed her vision, her heart pounding in all her pulse points. Somewhere between her touching herself and his exploration of her anus, pain succumbed to pleasure. He thrust deeper, and she mimicked his actions, plunging her fingers inside her pussy. When he withdrew a bit, she did the same, and they continued in tandem for long minutes.

  Sweat coated her face and limbs, and if she continued at this rate, she’d slip from her position and flatten herself on the bed. Not yet.

  Sparks of pleasure built in her core, sending sizzles through the rest of her, and she could no longer stop herself. She plummeted her digits into her sex one more time, and with a loud, long-winded moan that sliced the air like a blade, she let go. Waves and waves of the best sensation she’d ever felt washed over her, accompanied by little aftershocks of awareness, like she’d just experienced a short circuit within her.

  He put both hands at her sides, and intensified the rhythm of his invasions, slamming into her ass. Unable to keep on her fours, she fell to the mattress, but he lifted her ass and fucked her, until his own release came and she felt his cum in her hole, in her ass, on the small of her back. The hot, sticky liquid dribbled down her thighs, cementing his claim of her. With an animalistic growl, he slumped next to her, breathing ragged, body sweaty.

  “I don’t think I can move,” she said, half joking, half serious.

  He scooted close enough to kiss her shoulder. “I finally got you right where I wanted you.”

  She smiled, concealing the insecurity snaking into her gut. What if she couldn’t give him what he needed, despite the sexual stuff?

  What if I don’t know how?

  …

  “Izzy. How nice to see you here,” said Kesia the following day.

  Izzy clenched the book about ancient African history she’d bought during a quick visit in town and looked at Nassor’s mother. She’d hoped to be able to make her way through the private lobby section of the castle without his mother noticing her. Damn it. She should’ve simply waited until Kesia left.

  She’d seen her, talking to the concierge, probably going over chores that she would never have to do herself. The life of a queen.

  “Same. I was just—” Izzy lifted the book, unsure of what to say. She’d walked out of the event the previous night, a feat she imagined not many did to the royal family. Should she apologize or move on? She hadn’t meant to offend the queen, even though she suspected Queen Kesia had been smart to bring Morowa Peete as her plus one.

  Kesia lifted her hand in a silent gesture for her to keep quiet. “I’d love to have a word with you in my studio.”

  “Of course.”

  Izzy followed her into Kesia’s quarters, a wing of the castle she’d occupied since returning to the limelight months ago. Or so had Candace, Izzy’s maid, said. Silently, Izzy walked alongside Kesia, striding through a pristine hallway with long family paintings displayed on either side.

  She opened heavy French doors, and Izzy entered the large space, filled with canvases, a multitude of brushes, and colored tubes. Fascinated, Izzy studied the finished paintings. They reminded her of impressionist masterpieces, with ordinary landscapes like the sea, the woods, and the castle, but with an intense color variation that ended up making the image more meaningful like poetry in motion. “These are amazing. Did you paint them yourself?” she asked.

  Kesia glanced around, a spark of recognition and pride illuminating her coffee eyes. “Yes, I was hoping to use some of them for a fund-raiser in a few months.”

  “It’ll do really well. If you need any help, I used to help with the after-school art program and small-scale charity events,” she said. Help? Most likely, she wouldn’t be here in a few months. Anxiety cooled her veins, and Izzy shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  Why on Earth would Kesia need someone like her, with her public school experience, to help manage an event where art pieces could easily cost millions?

  “Thank you.” Kesia sat in one of the beige tufted chairs and gestured for her to do the same. “Have a seat.”

  Izzy ran her fingers through her hair, wishing she’d been more prepared for this conversation. Was this when his mother would offer her money and a return ticket home? Slowly, she chose the loveseat across from Kesia and sat. She’d been through worse in her life, way worse. This conversation should be a piece of cake.

  “You left in a hurry last night, didn’t stay for the rest of the event,” Kesia said. She shot her an intriguing look, like she wanted to figure her out.

  “I apologize for leaving in a hurry, but I’m not sorry I left.”

  Kesia lifted her chin. “Why not?”

  Izzy squared her shoulders, ignoring the heat churning in her stomach. Damn it. “Because I felt like a third wheel. If we’re being honest, I understand you brought that gorgeous woman as a future match for Nassor, and I wasn’t going to stay there and watch.”

  “Yes. I didn’t know my son would take you, and when I found out it was far too late.”

  “I understand.”

  “You do?” Kesia asked, moving in her seat and angling her head, somehow diminishing the distance between them even though a heavy coffee table still stood in the middle.

  “Yes. You love your son, and you want what’s best for him. I’m only a distraction, and if he marries that lady and the others, it’ll be good for his kingdom,” Izzy said. She cleared her throat—twice—to keep talking. “I want what’s best for him too.”

  “And what is that, in your opinion?”

  “Whatever he wants. I’m not here to cause any harm, Queen Kesia. You shouldn’t worry about me.”

  “I thought so too. But last night, after you left, Nassor was really mad at me. Like hurting you hurt him. He still hasn’t talked to me, and knowing him, I don’t think he will for a while.”

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked for the sake of asking, doubting Nassor would be the kind of man easy to sway.

  “No.” Kesia sighed. “There is, though, something I can do.”

  Izzy drew a long breath, contracting her stomach so much it gave a small cramp. This was it. Just like in the movies, Kesia would make an offer or a threat. Maybe she’d already snooped and discovered Izzy had been adopted from an international orphanage, someone without a traditional family. A lost soul alone in the worl
d.

  “I can get to know you better,” Kesia said, with a small smile. “If my son is so smitten by you, I need to know why. I’m not going to jeopardize my relationship with him because we try different approaches to reach the same goal.”

  Izzy swallowed, processing what she just heard. Nassor’s mom wanted to get to know her? She loosened her shoulders for a moment, then a lump of apprehension formed in her throat.

  She looked at Kesia square in the eye. “I appreciate the offer. You’re being generous. I have to say, though, you might want to buckle up, because I’m not like any of the fine bachelorettes you want to set him up with. I had a bad childhood, and I’m not perfect.”

  Kesia nodded, a warm glow gleaming in her eyes. “Neither am I. Let’s talk and get to know each other a bit better.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Former adviser Rasheed is here, Your Highness,” Guban warned through the intercom.

  “Let him in,” Nassor said.

  Ever since he’d fired Rasheed for indecent use of the castle accommodations, he hadn’t heard from the disgruntled former adviser. Of course, some of the other ones he’d fired got pissed as well, but they should’ve known change was afoot. And a day earlier, Rasheed had called, demanding a quick meeting with him.

  Nassor could have refused, but dealing with these matters head-on was better. The man probably wanted to discuss his severance package or have access to his former office to retrieve a personal item that he’d left behind and the staff failed to deliver. A housekeeping problem, sure, but better to deal with it than ignore it altogether.

  Within seconds, Rasheed walked through the door and quietly closed it behind him. The smirk on his lips and the casual stroll he took to the chair didn’t speak of desperation or disgruntlement.

  “Your Majesty.” He bowed.