by Parker Grey
Declan
Step by step, I remind myself that she’s not there.
Step by step, ever upward, I remind myself that she’s got more important things to look to than whatever this is. As I rise I tell myself, again and again, that Aurora nearly died today. That it was her brother, not me, who saved her life.
That right now, she probably just wants to hug her family, be with them, drinking cocoa by a roaring fire or whatever the fuck it is they do. Even though the present I’ve got for her is heavy in my pocket, I remind myself that it’s not going to get used tonight.
But I need to go anyway. If nothing else, I want to be there, in the place where we’re together. In the place where it doesn’t matter that we’re not supposed to do this, where Aurora is utterly and completely mine, no holds barred.
I push open the door, breath held, hoping against hope, but she’s not there.
I told you, I think. Of course she’s not, you lovesick idiot, she’s with—
Standing in the shadow, next to a window, nearly invisible, a figure turns toward me with a swish of black silk, and my mouth goes dry.
“Declan,” she whispers.
“Aurora,” I murmur.
The moonlight plays off her curves, and she walks toward me, slowly. There’s something panther-like in her gait, something sinful and dangerous that’s never been there before.
Instantly, my nerves sizzle. My cock goes rock-hard and my whole body thrums.
I might be in control here, but Aurora has all the power. She could say one word and ruin me, another word and I’d walk from here to Russia for her.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” she says, tilting her head to one side.
“I didn’t think I’d find you here,” I say, shutting the door behind me, turning the heavy iron key in its lock.
Aurora licks her lips, glances at the lock, looks back at me. She walks up to me, still dangerous somehow, and I’m rooted to the spot, mouth dry with pure lust.
“Declan,” she murmurs again, her voice a purr, pure poetry.
I put one finger on her lower lip, trace it down her cheek, her neck, to the hollow of her throat, between her breasts. I can see her nipples harden under the flowing silk, her eyes heavy-lidded.
“I need you to ruin me,” she whispers, and in one quick motion she reaches behind her neck, unbuttons something.
Her gown falls to the floor, a puddle of black around her feet, Aurora’s pale skin glowing in front of me. She’s completely naked, her nipples hard pebbles on her small, perfect breasts.
Jesus, there’s nothing I’d rather do.
I claim her mouth, kissing her until she bruises, lifting her out of her dress and pushing her backward until she falls on the bed with a small, “Oh!”
Her red hair pools around her, and I grab her by the waist, tossing her until she’s lying properly on the bed, legs wide open. I can already smell her arousal, her breath coming in quick gasps, her chest rising and falling.
I reach for my belt, but I’m not wearing one. No tie either, not even a bowtie, because I ripped the goddamn thing off the second I could.
Fucking tuxedos. How’s a man supposed to tie a woman up after a formal event?
I grab one of Aurora’s hands, close it around the brass bar of the headboard. She grabs it with the other automatically, and I shove her knees wider, pushing my clothed erection into her wetness. Aurora moans, her hips rolling and back arching.
“Don’t let go,” I growl. “Understood? Don’t. Let. Go.”
I grab her chin in my hand again, my cock grinding against her. God, I can already feel her wetness soaking through my tuxedo pants, onto my cock, and I tighten my fingers on her chin just a little.
“Say yes,” I whisper roughly.
“Yes, Declan,” she whispers back.
I kiss her hard, claiming her mouth with mine, grinding against her, my cock already sticky even though I’m wearing pants. I move my lips down, biting the cords in her neck, her collarbone. Probably hard enough to leave a mark, but she can wear a fucking turtleneck.
I bite harder. Aurora gasps. I glance at her hands on the headboard, knuckles white, her words echoing in my ears.
Ruin me.
I bite, suck, lick her neck until the purple blossoms just under her skin, marking her as mine. I do it again just under her collarbone, leaving a path behind myself, one more on her delicate pale breast just above her nipple before I close my teeth around that.
Aurora cries out, moaning, her whole body a vibrating string that I’ve plucked. Her legs wrap around me and pull me in, her hips working unconsciously against my cock.
I reach down with my other hand, pressing into her hip, and still her against the bed. I’m rough, rougher than I need to be, but her breathing goes ragged as I hold her down against the bed, dragging my teeth over her nipple.
I bite, I lick, I suck until it’s puffy, bright pink even in the moonlight. She’s still bucking and writhing under me, still soaking through my tuxedo pants with her arousal, a little more with every ounce of force I apply to her.
I move to her other nipple, just as rough with that one. I push my hand to her dripping pussy, push three fingers inside her with no warning, and she rewards me my rolling her hips toward me, forcing them a little deeper so I bite her bruised nipple to remind Aurora who’s in charge.
“Oh God, yes,” she moans quietly, sighing. “I fucking love it when you’re inside me.”
My whole body surges with the words. They’re fucking magic, but I suck the delicate skin of her breast into my mouth, giving her yet another reminder of who’s been there, and move my fingers faster, crooking them against the front wall of her channel, the spot I know makes her come in seconds.
“Aurora,” I say, finally taking my mouth from her nipple. “I want you to come when I say.”
She just nods, breathless.
“Yes,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Not a second before,” I tell her, working my fingers even harder. I can feel her muscles fluttering around me. She’s close.
I circle my thumb around her clit, watching her ribs expand and contract with pleasure.
“It feels so good when you fuck me,” she moans.
“I’m not fucking you yet,” I remind her.
“It feels good anyway,” she whispers, the whisper slowly turning into a moan.
Her muscles are starting to clench, her eyes sliding closed, her head turning to one side, so I slow my hand. I stroke her inner walls gently, lessening the pressure, my thumb moving slower around her clit.
“Look at me,” I order, and she opens her eyes.
“Let me come,” she begs, her gaze steady on mine. “Please, Declan.”
“Not yet,” I murmur, hand still working.
I bite a nipple again, suck it hard, make her moan. Her whole body shudders but I still don’t let her come.
She said ruin me. By the time I’m done with Aurora, I want her shaking, weak, barely able to move.
I want my princess limp on the bed, completely and utterly mine, body and soul.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aurora
“Turn over,” Declan commands.
I stare at him, my mind hazy, my hands tight around the brass bar of the headboard. He’s still got his fingers inside me, still fucking me slowly with them. I’m trembling, forcing myself not to come, and I lick my lips.
“Aurora,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.
Declan leans over me, shoving my thighs even further apart, and grabs the bar between my hands.
“I said turn over,” he repeats, though he doesn’t stop finger-fucking me as he leans back, no longer between my legs.
I take a deep breath, unlatch my hands from the headboard, slowly extend one leg up and turn my body over. His fingers turn inside me, not moving at all, their rough pads exploring new parts of me.
I feel vulnerable, exposed, helpless as I grab the bar again, but I’m also painfu
lly aroused.
Right now, Declan can do anything he wants to me — anything — and all I want is to let him. I’m reckless, possibly insane, but that near-death moment today unlocked something inside me.
I need to feel alive, painfully, shatteringly, incredibly alive and I need Declan to make me feel that way.
He takes his fingers out of me, and I sigh into the pillow, body shuddering in disappointment.
Fabric rustles. He leans over, takes something from the bedside table, presses his still-clothed body against my back to whisper in my ear.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he murmurs, lightly running one hand along the side of my body.
I raise my head from the pillow, making my back arch.
“What is it?” I ask.
He squeezes one ass cheek with his hand, his thumb tracing through the cleft, making me shiver again.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he says.
Then he smacks my ass, and I yelp in surprise.
“Lift your hips,” he commands, and when I comply, he shoves a pillow under them.
Now I’m even more open, even more exposed, ass up in the air, lying on my front. My hands are tight on the bar, and even though I know I’m free, not tied or anything, I don’t let go.
Declan said don’t, so I don’t. Simple as that.
Then his fingers are on my clit again, slippery with my dripping juices, teasing me. I moan again, bucking backward.
Don’t come, I tell myself, over and over again, gritting my teeth. Don’t do it.
He rubs harder, fingers stroking my pussy. He moves and then his lips are on my thigh, biting and sucking until I cry out, half in pain and half in pleasure. I know without looking that there’s a bruise there, too, that Declan’s marked my entire body as his.
“Declan, please,” I beg.
I need him now. I need him to fuck me until I scream, take me hard and rough and deep. I want to feel where he was every time I sit down tomorrow, to keep his secret bruises between my thighs where no one but me and him can see them.
“I need you to fuck me,” I say, the words flowing out of my mouth. I can’t believe I’m getting used to saying that, but I am. I didn’t even blush.
“I know,” he says, voice rough and low. “You’re soaking wet, Princess, and you moan every time I touch your clit.”
As if to tease me, he flicks his tongue across my clit once, and I gasp.
“But I told you that every part of your body was mine, and I mean to make good on that,” he goes on.
My hands clench, and I bite my lip.
He’s going to fuck me in the ass, I think.
The thought has me wetter in seconds, but I’m nervous, too. I’ve never come harder than when he pulled my hair and fucked me with two fingers up my ass, but there’s a huge difference between that and his cock.
It’s just... logistics.
Something cold touches my pussy. I inhale sharply, muscles clenching.
That’s not his cock.
It moves down, from my pussy to my tight asshole, the cool rounded surface circling the puckered hole smoothly. Declan keeps circling my clit with the fingers on his other hand.
“Relax,” he whispers, slowly easing it into me.
I try to breathe deeply, force my muscles to stop tightening, and little by little, the object slides inside me.
I gasp as it does, tightening my hands on the bar and relaxing, moaning.
“What is that?” I whisper.
Declan just chuckles.
“I’m plugging your pretty little asshole,” he says.
He eases it in even further, stretching me. I moan again, biting my lip.
I know I shouldn’t like it when Declan takes my ass. It’s so dirty, so un-princesslike, but that’s exactly what turns me on. I know I shouldn’t be doing it, that no self-respecting girl in my position should be.
But it feels so good I can’t help myself.
“More,” I beg, rolling my hips backward. “Please.”
I can hear Declan’s breathing go ragged, his fingers on my clit move faster, and I whimper.
Suddenly, it pops through the ring of muscle, and I gasp. Behind me, Declan groans, his hand grabbing my ass, his thumb on the base of the plug, just barely moving it inside my ass.
It’s still stretching me, but the thickest part is inside, pressing up against strange new nerves I’ve never felt before. My pussy is absolutely drooling, and I’m so wet that I can feel my wetness dripping down, over my clit, past Declan’s fingers.
“That feel good, Princess?” he growls, squeezing my ass.
He keeps moving the plug inside me, and I whimper and moan in response.
“You like having your ass filled and stretched, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His fingers on my clit move faster, and my whole body spasms.
“Not yet,” he growls. “I haven’t said you could come.”
“But it feels so good,” I moan.
He rubs me harder, faster, keeps moving the plug in my ass like he’s fucking me gently with it. I gasp and moan, my toes curling. It’s all I can do not to relinquish my grip on the headboard, reach back for him, and guide his cock into my pussy.
I grit my teeth, still forcing myself not to come. I’m holding my breath, crying out in anguish, practically screaming with frustration into this pillow because it feels so good, so incredibly fucking good, and Declan is torturing me.
“I’m gonna come,” I gasp, nearly sobbing. “I’m gonna come, Declan, I can’t—”
He slows. His fingers trace a circle around my clit, not touching it, and my body twitches. All I can do is pant for breath, wonder what’s coming next. I feel ragged, worn out, but still like every nerve in my body is on fire, totally alive.
There’s another rustle behind me, and then Declan’s shirt is on the floor beside the bed, followed by his pants. I’d somehow forgotten he was still clothed, but then he presses his body into mine, the thick, hard length of his cock nestled between my cheeks like a promise as he grabs my hair.
“I’m going to take your tight little pussy while you’ve got a plug in your ass,” he growls.
I just moan, press back against him, still dripping wet. I want Declan to have every hole, to fuck me until I can’t come any more.
I want to be his, owned, claimed. I want him to ruin me.
“And I’m going to fuck your ass,” he whispers, his words sending shivers down my spine. “I’m going to make you come in ways you’ve never thought of, Princess, and you’re going to scream my name while you do.”
“Yes,” is all I manage to say.
His weight lifts off me, his hand still in my hair, but I don’t let go of the headboard even as he slides his cock along my cleft, nudging the plug in my ass, making me moan again.
Then his thick head is at my entrance, stroking my wetness. I’m trembling with anticipation.
Declan pulls my hair harder, slowly pushing his thick cock inside me. As he does he moves the plug in my ass, a symphony of new sensations exploding inside me.
“You like that?” he growls, pulling my hair harder. “You liked getting fucked while your ass is stuffed full, you filthy girl?”
“Yes,” I moan, the only word I can think of right now.
“Good,” he growls. “Because I like fucking you this way.”
With that he sinks deep, hilting himself, and I moan louder. I can barely breathe, barely think it feels so good, every tiny movement he makes is like a shower of sparks through my body.
Declan fucks me hard, mercilessly, growling and groaning. With every stroke he buries himself impossibly deep, his thick cock moving the plug filling my ass with every movement, like he’s fucking me in both places at once.
I can’t do anything but moan, gasp, whimper, and force myself not to come. Tremors have taken over my whole body, and I’m shaking from the sheer force of resistance.
At last Declan leans over slig
htly, his hand between mine again on the headboard, and he pulls my hair even harder, slams his cock into me until I cry out, certain I’m going to explode.
“Come for me,” he commands, but the second he says come my body is obeying.
I scream. I shout, I moan, I say his name over and over again as every muscle in my body tightens. I come so hard my vision goes white and then black, so hard I’m afraid that I’ve actually shattered.
Declan keeps fucking me as hard as he can until finally, he slams into me and I feel his cock jerk and twitch as he explodes inside me, filling me up.
I collapse onto my elbows, hands still locked on the headboard. I don’t think I can move, possibly ever again, and for a long time I just lie there, shaking and trembling, as Declan’s cock goes soft inside me and he strokes my hair.
After a long time, he kisses the back of my head, pries my hands from the bar. He pulls out of me, a torrent of sticky semen flowing from my pussy, turns me over. Kisses me on the mouth.
“You okay?” he asks, stroking one thumb along my cheekbone.
I’m so surprised that all I can do is nod. This is totally different than just a few minutes ago, the same Declan who bruised my body in the best way, who talked dirty while he fucked me hard.
“You sure?” he asks.
“I’m sure,” I say, resting my hand over his. “Thank you.”
His eyes search mine for a long time, and finally, he smiles.
“My pleasure,” he murmurs, kissing me again.
We lie there for a long time. For much, much too long, but all we do is talk. We talk about Grayson and Ella, about music, about politics, about the best place in the Alps to go skiing and all the things we’d do if we weren’t royalty, constantly watched by an entire country.
The whole time, the plug is still in my ass, shifting slightly. Every time it reminds me of what just happened — as if I needed a reminder — but it makes me feel under his control, not to mention just a little wet.
The moon has set by the time Declan finally sits up, kisses me one more time, his gaze roving down my body.
“Do you need it back?” I asking, teasing.
