My Stepbrother, His Highness: A Royal Stepbrother Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
Page 34
As he came, so did I. I leaned into him, my forehead against his chest as I gritted my teeth and felt that sweet orgasm crawl under my skin once more, reaching for every single corner of my mind. I breathed out deeply, feeling his cum gushing inside of me, coating my insides and dripping down.
Eventually he let go of me, his cock twitching one final time before he allowed himself to sprawl his arms to the side and surrender to that sweet ecstasy that blanketed the both of us. I let his cock slide out of me slowly, and then rolled to the side, lying next to him.
Exhausted, my body still victim to the occasional twitch, I took my hand and reached for his. Finding it, I laced my fingers around it. As he squeezed it back, a wave of comfort rode through me.
Being there, with Tristan… It was hard to admit, but it almost felt like I was finally home.
The Fight
Sunlight streamed in from Park Avenue and into Tristan's bedroom window, waking me.
Oh look, you're in Tristan's bed again...
But this time it was okay. This time I was smiling. This time, his strong, muscled arm was wrapped around me, and I could feel him spooning behind me. Contentment flooded through me, followed by..
Hunger.
I felt his cock, semi-hard nestled between my ass cheeks.
It's found a home. Awww...
But sadly, that wasn't the hunger I had been referring to. This was a hunger for food. I wondered when the last time I ate had been. Not since lunch yesterday.
Yeah, well you were busy, you know, having orgasms and all...
I shuddered in delight at the thoughts from yesterday. That had to be the greatest sex I had ever had of all time. I don't think I had ever had an orgasm more powerful or more intense ever. It was literally deserving of the name 'life-altering'. I had been so exhausted with pleasure afterwards, so completely satisfied, that I had drifted off to deep, dreamless sleep. But now, my body wanted only one thing.
Food!
But despite the hunger, I still felt a little tingle of pleasure thinking back to the mind-numbing, toe-curling sex that Tristan had bestowed upon me yesterday. Something I would never forget. Not that I had any plans to forget him in the near future.
You realize you've formed emotions now right? You've failed at divorcing sex from feelings.
I didn't care that I had disobeyed my cardinal rule for living in the big bad city filled with players. I smiled to myself and wiggled my butt onto Tristan's cock. I could feel it come to live. I continued wiggling, pushing back onto him. I felt the arms tighten around me. In a moment I felt the stubble of his chin lightly graze my back as he began to stir. I turned my head back and looked at his beautiful face with wide, adoring eyes. His eyes were deep, dark, and soulful, and they stared directly into me.
"Good morning, lover," I said by way of greeting. "You forgot to take me out on the town and feed me dinner last night."
It took him a moment to get his bearings and understood what I said. "I ate," he said, "And so did you. Just not food."
Oh snap!
I slapped him lightly and playfully. "You can eat me out whenever you want, dear, but I need some carbs. Desperately."
"You want to go to brunch?" he asked me.
I looked at the clock. It was 10 am. "Don't you have to go to work?" I asked.
He shrugged. "It's Saturday. And I've met the girl of my dreams. I think they'll be able to understand."
Girl of his dreams? Me?
"Well then, Mr. Carnahan, I would be delighted to go to brunch with you," I whispered to him. "Besides, I still have more questions about you. I'm not done yet."
"Right now, the only two words you're going to need is 'harder' and 'faster'," Tristan said, pulling me to the side so that I was lying on my back.
"Why is that, exactly, Mister?" I asked with a mischievous smile as I saw his head begin to descend. First underneath the covers and then down my body until it reached the intersection of my legs, inches from my pussy. I felt his breath on me and then a tongue come out and delicately lick my lips, as if in greeting. Without knowledge it darted out and massaged my clit, sending jolts of electricity through my legs and to my brain.
Oh, right. That's why.
It was now noon and we had finally managed to get out of bed. We had showered separately (unfortunately) and then headed downtown to Balthazar for brunch. Tristan was wearing a pair of jeans with a V-neck sweater that showed off his amazing legs, slender waist, hugged his abs and pecs and showed off his arms. I decided to wear something cute as well but the best I could come up with was a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. Even that was enough for Tristan to look at me wolfishly as we left the apartment, grabbing my ass in the elevator and even slapping it as I got into the taxicab.
This guy has the sexual stamina of the fucking Energizer Bunny.
It had occurred to me that he and I had never been out of the apartment together on any sort of outing. I guessed that when you thought the other person was paying you for your body you wanted to keep enough of your own alone time that any of it with that person was pretty low on the totem pole.
Nevertheless, I was pleasantly surprised by just how gracious, accommodating, and generally good-natured Tristan was, especially for a New Yorker.
"You're too nice to people," I whispered to him at our table. "People are going to think you're a tourist."
He smiled. "I'm with the most beautiful woman in the world, I think I may be falling for her," he said. I couldn't help but smile from the other side of the table. "And, I'm about to eat. Thank God, I am so fucking famished!"
"You know, our arrangement had specifically said that you would take care of my shelter as well as my food," I said with some snark. "Looks like you failed in that one category there last night, bucko."
"Yeah, but I blew the scale off the other category like five times," he said with a smirk and confidence that came from somewhere I didn't know.
It's that giant cock and huge balls of his...
"Were you always so confident?" I asked, deciding it was best to change the topic.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I've worked hard for everything in my life - even if someone was trying to just hand it to me. I don't stop until I know that I've perfected it."
"How much did you practice, uhmm, going down on people?" I asked.
He smiled.
What the fuck!
"You have to remember, I was a Prince. Of Saint Maalden - one of the last remaining island countries where we have a democracy but still retain a royal family. I was a star."
Jesus, humble much?
"So you're saying you're kind of a man-whore?" I asked, not wanting to let the annoyance show up in my tone.
"I don't think so," he said. "Besides that part of my life is over."
Tristan reached over the table, past the Bellinis that they had served us to take my hand.
My heart melted just as quickly as my walls had gone up. He really was an amazing man.
"Alicia," he said, looking at me directly in the eyes. "I have only one woman I'm thinking about right now. And that's you."
I nodded, needing a minute to keep from having tears stream down my face and destroy my mascara.
"So the whole part about Prince, I kinda get, even if it's crazy as all hell," I started, desperately finding something to talk about. "But what's with all the cash?"
Tristan sighed. "I have a trust fund that pays me out monthly that was set up for me by each successive generation of the Carnahan clan. A portion of my investments and interest goes towards setting up for future descendants of mine as well."
I nodded. "I'm with you so far."
"However, by renouncing the ties that led to so much self-destruction, I can't in good conscience take the money. So each month, there is roughly $80 million dollars that is made out to me, and I take that money and place it in a holding account that I do not touch. It sits, waiting for me."
I nodded. I was struggling with nickels and dimes here and this guy w
as talking aobut tens of millions of dollars. It was all a little difficult for me to comprehend. "Wait," I said trying to do the math in my head. "$80 million a month. So you must be worth over..."
I trailed off and watched Tristan as he wrestled with himself how to bring about saying whatever he was going to say.
"The combined Carnahan family net worth stands over $500 billion, yes," he said, looking into my eyes directly. I shuddered. I had never even thought of that kind of money before. It was an abstract concept, like a gajillion trillion, and impossible to comprehend with a straight face.
"So...I guess you're paying for brunch?" I asked with a grin.
Tristan squeezed my hand and we each took a sip of our Bellinis.
I figured with so many questions answered, now was a good enough time to go to the ladies room. I needed just a small bit of time to process everything.
I excused myself and began to walk to the restroom.
He's watching your ass! Sway! Sway!
I added an extra swish to my hips, wiggling my ass a bit in my yoga pants. I could feel Tristan's eyes locked onto it. Despite everything, I smiled to myself. I was going to have a lot of fun with him, I could already tell.
The bathroom was deserted when I got inside and I quickly went to the farthest stall. No sooner had I sat down however when the door opened. I could hear the two girls talking as they went towards the sink.
"And she told me it was a fabulous apartment. 46 stories over Park Avenue and the owner of the apartment is like some sort of startup guy. Either that or he works on Wall Street," the voice finished her sentence she had started from outside the bathroom.
"So, what happened?" the other girl asked, curious.
"Well, so they were, like, talking over the phone, and she asks how much the rent is, not sure if she can afford it."
"But I thought you said it was just some housekeeping duties for free rent?"
My skin went clammy. Were they talking about me? Who else could they be talking about?
"Well, that's what she thought too, but then she got the pictures off CityRealty when she was given the address and googled it. It was profiled on some interior decorating website back in the day, but I guess it's just one guy who lives there now. Used to be, he lived with his wife and she prettied it up," the voice answered.
"Anyways," the voice went on. "Anyways, so she talks to this guy over the phone. And it turns out there's no rent. And the housekeeping duties are all like cooking and cleaning, and shit. But..."
Oh holy fuck…
"On top of all of that, she has to fuck the guy on a regular basis!" the voice cackled. "Can you believe that shit? The guy is looking for some chick to come in and clean and cook for him and fuck him too."
"I don't believe it," he other voice replied. "It's so totally like the 3 C's of True Womanhood or something that Bill used to joke about."
Oh no!
"What was that again?" the first voice asked.
"Like cooking, cleaning, and cocksucking or something like that."
"Oh, gross!" the voice exclaimed. "But that's exactly what this creep was asking for."
"So what did Vanessa do?" the second voice asked.
"As if! She hung the fuck up before he could say anything else. Never even met the fucker. She probably would have kicked him in the balls if she were there."
"So that was a month ago," the second voice said. "What's she doing now?"
"Oh, she had to move back to Boston with her parents. She couldn't find anything in her price range. But you know, after something like this, I think she just completely wanted to get away from the city altogether. But you know what? She’s like the 20th person who has a story that’s like this. This guy is asking all chicks under 30 it looks like!”
"Yeah, I don't know what I would do if something like that happened to me..." the second voice began to speak, but drifted off as the two girls went outside.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.
I sat there trembling for I don't know how long. Here I was in love with a man who was gorgeous, wealthy, kind, and hard-working. He made me explore sides of me sexually I had no idea I had. But he was, in essence, a creep. A pervert. An asshole. Someone who paid money to young girls for sex. Someone who traded off his wealth to take advantage of people in less fortunate circumstances.
He had told me he had asked only five people. But it turns out he was a serial sex-buyer! My Tristan, the love of my life, was a perverted purveyor of pleasure…
You're falling in love with a creep!
What had my life come down to? I had compromised and compromised and compromised until I was left at the very end, at rock bottom, sitting in the mud. I had lost any sort of moral high ground I had and fallen into the worst Stockholm Syndrome situation that could have befallen anyone. I was falling in love with someone that I used to hate passionately a month ago.
What happened to separating yourself from the sex? No feelings remember?!
I had to be strong. I couldn't - I wouldn't let myself fall for Tristan. That was his plan. No, I needed to show him that I was able to play his sick and twisted game and beat him at it. That I could only beat him because I was a better person.
I walked out of the bathroom, hoping I had enough resolve to carry out what needed to be done.
I went to our table and picked up my purse. Tristan, seeing the look in my eye stood up.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"I can't do this, Tristan," I said flatly.
"Do what?"
"This," I said gesturing to him and me. I kept my voice low. "I can't love you. Not when I know you were willing to fuck anyone and I just happened to be it."
"What are you talking about?" Tristan asked again, confusion coming through his voice as it rose. People started to stare.
"I'm going back to the apartment, Tristan," I said. "I'll continue to keep our end of the arrangement, but I need to follow the letter of the agreement. Nothing more," I said coldly, looking into his eyes as I saw his heart break. "I'll cook for you. I'll clean for you. I'll fuck you. But don't ask me to love you."
You tell him, girl.
Thinking I had made the biggest mistake of my life, I turned around and walked away.
In the cab, I pulled out my phone and found my messages from Jon. He had texted me back a few times, but I had never replied.
Alicia: Hey. Want to meet for a drink in a few hours?
I waited for a reply as I considered what I was doing.
Be very careful you want to go down this road...
I knew there was no going back.
Jon: Free all day for you, doll. What time?
Alicia: I’m in a cab. How about you meet me at Irish Exit in twenty minutes?
Jon: Sounds like a plan, chica
I would drink with Jon. Then I would take him back to my room and fuck his brains out. Tristan would hear. And he would realize that it was all sex with me. That he had no power over my heart.
Yeah, let's just tell ourselves that. Just keep trying.
Trying. I never realized it rhymed with dying. Which is what my heart was doing right that moment.
The Jon
It was 2 pm on a Saturday and I was trying to act happy that I was sitting and having a beer in a divey Irish bar on Second Avenue. I was across the table from Jon, who I had flirted with back and forth a few times via text ever since a work happy hour that had occurred shortly after I had moved in with Tristan.
You better like him. You’re going to have sex with him soon.
I shuddered mentally. I had been sitting here for two hours, listening to Jon talk about the vagaries and nuances of something called World of Warfare or World of Craftwars. I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about so I started looking at his face and thinking how it looked handsome with a prominent nose.
But not as prominent and aristocratic as Tristan’s.
Fuck. I couldn’t let my mind wander to the Creep. Instead
I tried to think about Jon’s muscles.
That’s nothing compared to what Tristan has built.
Jesus Christ. I was going to be having sex with this guy. Maybe I needed to stop nursing this one beer and have a few more.
You’ll just end up having sex with Tristan.
I hated myself. I did the only thing I knew to shut my brain off. I reached over towards Jon and took his arm, intertwining my fingers into his. I looked into his eyes, and smiled sweetly.
“Want to come back to my place?”
So the deal was in my head that fucking Jon would do two key things.
First, it would help me get over Tristan.
Which will never happen.
Second, fucking Jon would show Tristan that I could separate sex from emotions. And it would get him to stop pursuing me or doing things that got me to fall for him.
This is not going to work, girlfriend.
It had to work. Because the only alternative was that I had lost my heart to a perverted creepo who paid women for sex despite being a billionaire prince.
Did you just hear yourself say that sentence? What world do you live in? Can you say first world problem?
I took a deep breath as we got to Tristan’s door and cleared my thoughts. I had to hope that Tristan was inside.
Jon reached over and stuck his tongue into my ear.
What the fuck is he doing?
I turned over and brought my mouth to his, kissing him lightly. He reached over and grabbed my ass.
I moved his hand away. “Let’s wait till we’re inside,” I said. I didn’t want the neighbors to think I was a slut. Just Tristan.
I opened the door and saw that Tristan’s room had the lights on.
I walked in.
Tristan came out of his room.
Fuck.
“Alicia, we need to talk…” he began but stopped once Jon walked in behind me. My eyes met his, and I cocked my head, hoping that I was making my point.
Tristan did nothing. He nodded to Jon who nodded back.