King Size: A Royal Bad Boy Romance

by Lexi Whitlow

  “You won’t be needing these.”

  Before I have time to backtrack or even laugh nervously, Gates is on the floor. His lips find my thighs, tracing down to my knees and back up again. “It’s been a long time for me, whether you believe it or not.”

  I feel his touch against my skin, and involuntarily, I arch my back to meet him and the gentle touch of his lips. I moan softly. I don’t care if that’s the truth or not. My sex is alight with need, slickness coming to the delicate folds of my pussy. My whole body is wanting him, welcoming him. And I need him, perhaps more than I’ve ever needed anything.

  Gates doesn’t say anything else. Instead, I feel his tongue, grazing one thigh and then the other. Teeth nibble the tender flesh there, and his breath is tantalizingly hot against my skin, against my aching pussy.

  “You want this?” He pauses for a moment. I can tell he’d rather not pause at all.

  I laugh quietly, bringing myself up to my elbows. I lift my hips and look into his amber eyes as he brings his head up. In response to his question, I pull my dress over my head, freeing my breasts—my entire body—for him.

  I nod. “And then—maybe dinner.”

  He dives between my legs, his tongue pressing against my clit, his lips pulling me in. He kisses and sucks at me there, his tongue moving in quick circles as he groans, the vibrations sending me over the edge. I buck my hips upward, wanting more, my body begging to be satisfied. My hands come to my breasts, cupping them, my fingers teasing my nipples. A low groan escapes my lips, and I pant, throwing my legs over his shoulders.

  This isn’t me. Not the sweet, religious little girl who does everything her parents tell her to. This is someone else entirely—someone with adult needs, desires. Someone real.

  Gates’ tongue dives deep into the folds of my pussy, penetrating me, and I cry out. My toes curl. My body shakes, and I come, hard, my voice echoing through the empty warehouse.

  While I’m still riding my orgasm, the waves shaking me to my very core, Gates flips me over so I’m on my hands and knees. My ass and pussy are exposed, on display for him. He starts licking me again, and this time his tongue finds my puckered hole. My eyes startle open, and I let out a cry, low and animal as the new sensation of pleasure racks my body. His tongue dives inside of me, and the edges of my first orgasm seem to come together again, extending the waves of pleasure beyond what I thought was possible. I’m gasping for air, groaning, mumbling his name.

  I feel him pull away and I look behind me to see him lowering the shorts he wore for the photoshoot to reveal a magnificent cock, throbbing and veiny and clearly very, very ready for me. He strokes himself even though it’s clear he’s already impossibly hard, and he groans like he’s savoring the taste of me, like my simple orgasm him brought him to this gravity-defying level of hardness.

  Gates catches my eye and grins.

  “You ready?” I moan and nod my head softly. Gates takes me by the hips, his hands grasping me tight. He pauses with the large head of his cock resting gently against my clit, and he grinds into me softly, moaning ever so gently. “Winter, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Without further preamble, he presses the head of his cock into my waiting, eager pussy. I gasp at the long forgotten sensation of being stretched open. I brace myself for his full length, but instead, he holds himself there, gently groaning and letting his hands roam over the curved planes of my ass.

  Eager, I push back into him. He smacks my ass and doesn’t let me fulfill my pleasure—not yet. He takes his time, fucking me gently with just the head of his cock. My pussy grows even slicker, the wetness surrounding him. Gates grunts and finally slams deep into me, filling me with one deft thrust. Hands holding my hips steady, he crashes into me again and again, his balls hitting against my clit.

  Impossibly, I feel the spark within me begin again, building and building until I need that release.

  As if he senses my impending orgasm, Gates picks up his pace, fucking me in earnest and filling me to the hilt with each swift movement.

  “I want to—” He pauses his words and groans, still slamming his cock into me as if he couldn’t possibly make himself slow down. “I want to come inside of you,” he growls.

  I whimper. I know I shouldn’t. It’s stupid, even if I am on the pill.

  “Please,” I beg. “Please come inside of me.”

  He speeds up more, gripping me so that I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. The pain mixes with the driving pleasure of it, and my mind goes blank for an instant. I see flashes of color instead of blackness when I close my eyes, the synapses in my brain firing in overdrive. The climax builds within me, my body quivering and quaking. A sound comes from deep within me. It’s dark and deep and something I don’t quite recognize.

  And I come, again—long and hard and powerful. I feel Gates bucking against me, his rhythm finally broken. The warmth of his cum fills me, shooting inside of me.

  I like the feeling of it. The walls of my pussy tighten around him as my pleasure crests and falls again.

  “Oh God,” I whine. “God, that’s so good.”

  He thrusts into me a final time, his hands still tight on my hips. We fall to the floor together and lie together for some time.

  I roll over to face him and look deep into his eyes.

  It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to someone, and I’m not sure quite what to do.

  All I know is that I’m glad he’s leaving in a few days time.

  Or I would certainly be in trouble.

  Gates

  Winter is incredibly beautiful, lying in her hotel room, red hair spread in a fiery splash across the pillow. We were up all night, exploring each other’s bodies.

  It’s been a long time I took a chance like this. I guess the impending mortal doom thing factored in this time.

  It might have also been Winter.

  I kiss her to waking. Her lips are deep peach in color, and there’s a spray of freckles across each cheek. I want to kiss her there. To feel her skin against my lips.

  “Muscle,” she says, stretching her arms up. Her eyes aren’t open yet. I can see the white tips of her eyelashes, a few red hairs falling in her face. The view from here is absolute perfection.

  “Gates,” I say, kissing her again. She opens her eyes, almost startled after her luxurious stretch.

  “Shit,” she mumbles. “I’m naked.”

  “I’d like you to stay that way today. And tomorrow. So I can remember exactly what you looked like this weekend.”

  Instead of responding the way she did last night, she quickly pulls the white hotel sheet around her, and her complexion turns ghostly pale. “Gates, you don’t understand. If my father finds out—”

  “He won’t find out. Plus, you’re a grown ass woman. Who cares what he thinks?”

  “You don’t know my dad,” she says, groaning, and lying back on the pillow. “I need to get out of here and back on my normal Saturday schedule before he knows anything is different.”

  I get a tight, clenching feeling in my gut. Any man who intimidates his daughter to this point sounds like a piece of human garbage. I want to say something, but I hold my tongue. I’m not in the business of doling out advice to women I barely know, especially when it comes to family. I probably won’t even see this girl again. That thought makes my gut clench even tighter, but I push aside the feeling.

  I’m a SEAL. I don’t even have my own home address.

  I have student loan debt, my mother’s credit card debt. All kinds of shit that needs to be signed, sealed, and delivered before I can even consider being with someone.

  This is just fun. I should let her go.

  “Stay,” I say. “Let me show you a good time today.”

  “You have a way with words, Navy SEAL. Simple words, but your eyes are very convincing.” She laughs a little nervously. “That’s why the camera loves you. If you ever wanted a career in acting, you could probably go for it.”

  “Nah,” I say. I pus
h a lock of red hair behind her ear, letting my fingers roam down her neck. Gently, I pull away the sheet covering her. “I’m only good at fighting bad guys.”

  “Sure thing,” she says. “Be self-deprecating. But I know a star when I see one.”

  I shrug, glad to see the color returning to her cheeks. Her deep, sparkling eyes are focused on mine. I let my fingers move to one of her ripe, firm breasts and then the other.

  She moans softly, almost musically. I love the sound of it. I brush my thumbs over one nipple, and it stiffens beneath my touch. My cock is already at half mast and growing harder the more I touch winter. Shuddering beneath my touch, she leans in and kisses me, hand on my thigh.

  “I’m not this type of girl,” she whispers.

  “I didn’t think you were.”

  “I don’t normally do things like this.”

  “I believe it,” I respond. I lean in and kiss the nape of her neck.

  She pulls herself onto my lap and kisses me hard, and I’m lost in the sound and the scent and the feeling of her. She takes my cock in her hand and climbs onto my lap, whimpering slightly. The need in her voice is apparent, and it stirs something in me that I haven’t felt in a long time, maybe years. Impossibly, my cock gets even harder as she brings it to the dripping wet lips of her pussy. She moans and gently lowers herself down on my cock, slowly at first.

  “Gates,” she sighs. Her eyes meet mine, and she looks almost sad for an instant. Then she closes them again and takes me to the hilt, filling me with the insatiable, aching need she instilled in me earlier this week—from the very first time I saw her.

  “That’s so good,” I groan, leaning back and letting her work my cock with her impossibly tight, hot pussy. I feel ready to explode, but I hold myself back, waiting. Winter increases her rhythm, bouncing up and down on my cock, taking me completely each time.

  She might not be the type of girl who does this, but she’s damn good at it. I groan, long and loud. She responds, picking up her pace, grinding her clit against me. Her eyes pop open again, and she gives me a piercing, desperate look.

  “I’m going to come,” she moans. “I want you to come inside me again.”

  I don’t wait for any more prompting. Instead, I lean back and let the feeling take me over. My balls tighten, and the insane, lingering need deep in my core reaches a tipping point, and I pass over the edge. My mind goes blank, and I fill her up as she rides me, moaning and panting.

  Winter’s body shakes and quivers, her arms wrapped tight around my neck. “Holy shit,” she mutters, her body still rocking against mine, her body pressed close into me. “Shit, that was good.”

  “Yeah, we do pretty well together. Especially for two people who don’t do this kind of thing.”

  She laughs, and rolls away from me. We’ll go out to lunch. I can give you that.

  “Okay,” I say. “We can shower and then go.” I grab a towel and head towards the hotel bathroom. It looks like there’s room for two inside.

  “Oh, I need to call Ella and get some stuff worked out for Monday. You go ahead.”

  I nod and go into the bathroom alone, but I get a strange feeling somewhere between turning the water on and shampooing my hair. I let the feeling slide by. I don’t want to go back to the hotel room, naked and dripping wet, calling Winter’s name.

  She already seems gun-shy, and that behavior might make her go from gun-shy to totally freaked out by an insane man. I take my time, washing my hair, thinking of the new ramen place I might take Winter. I could convince her to stay until I absolutely have to leave, and we could enjoy each other. I could get her number—maybe—for when I come home.

  When I step out of the shower and go to shave, the room seems quiet, eerily so.

  I dab a bit of shaving cream on my face, but I still feel it. I don’t hear Winter, don’t feel her presence.

  I shouldn’t go in there. I should shave. But I can’t bear it any longer.

  I sling a towel around my hips and walk back into the hotel room, glancing from one side to the other.

  “Fuck,” I groan. The room is as empty as it was when I checked in. “She fucking ghosted.”

  Beside the nightstand lamp there’s a handwritten note and a hotel key. The script is small, tight, neat. It reads,

  “Had to catch an early flight for my next job. Sorry I had to leave. Ella told me I needed to go ASAP. Turn in the key at the desk. Good luck on your deployment. Stay safe.

  —W.”

  No last name. No number or email address. Nothing. Just a one-night stand with no forwarding information.

  I get that tight, clenching feeling in my chest. I feel instinctively that she wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t deathly afraid of her father. And that girl was terrified.

  I hope I never get tangled up with that man, because I’d find a very creative way to end him.

  “Fucking hell,” I groan. “I don’t even know her last name.”

  She’s a memory now.

  And with any luck, I might meet her again.

  Download Lexi’s Latest at tiny.cc/muscleman.

  Excerpt from Wild

  Zelda

  The snow was supposed to come tomorrow, not today.

  It was a long drive up the mountain and an even longer hike. I thought I knew something about mountains, but Utah is different from Virginia. These are not the rolling, gentle Blue Ridge mountains. These are stark and cold.

  Cold.

  It was supposed to snow tomorrow, but the sky changed. I was half way up the trail, to the east of Fox Guthrie’s supposed estate. There weren’t even traces of a house, a cabin. Anything.

  And this man is supposed to have more money than God.

  But there’s nothing.

  Dr. Wu lied when he sent me to Utah. That’s the explanation. And then Derek Guthrie lied when I asked him about his brother?

  That doesn’t make sense.

  It took a long time to make it this far. And then.

  A bear trap. A pain, like lightning. My teeth chatter, and I think about trying to get to my pack again. To my phone. But the snow is piling high, quick. I can see one brown strap, and that will be buried soon.

  How many hours has it been?

  My head nods, heavy with sleep. I pull the emergency blanket around my shoulders and lean my back against the tree, trying not to move my ankle.

  It’s broken. Is it broken?

  The snow is red with blood. My blood.

  To the bone, I think. That’s what it felt like.

  My eyes close, and my head nods again. I can hear my pulse in the dark, quiet recess of my brain. Pounding, pounding, pounding.

  If it weren’t for pain in my head, I could fall asleep. Right here, in this blanket. My ankle and foot are starting to go blessedly numb, and the pain in my leg is subsiding as well.

  I drift off for an instant—maybe fifteen seconds—and I dream that I’m warm, inside my parents’ big, old house back in Richmond. My cousins are all there, gossiping. There’s a fire going. The TV is on, playing a football game. My dad is talking about his law firm to my uncle, and my mom is serving cookies. Fresh chocolate chip cookies.

  My head snaps back up, and I involuntarily jerk my leg.

  I let out a long, low moan. Like a wounded animal. The pain is like rage. Like nothingness.

  “Mom never once made cookies,” I laugh. “The nanny did.” I laugh again, louder this time.

  I want to go back there, to that warm, imaginary place.

  My teeth chatter.

  I close my eyes again. This time, I just listen. The snow is falling around me.

  I think of the sounds that have been in my life so far—the din of the press room at the Boston Globe, the sounds of my parents as they griped about my dyed hair, my major, my choice of friends. My everything. Everything was always wrong.

  The click-clack of keys on my computer as I searched for this man, for the ultimate story.

  Click click.

  The endless searching. Em
ails to his contacts. A flight to Japan to talk to the new head of his company, Akira Sakae. That was a particularly interesting adventure.

  The things I uncovered… illegal activity on the darknet markets, billions of dollars in currency unaccounted for, and every trace of Fox Guthrie, otherwise known as Digerati Faux Hon—eliminated.

  He’s a ghost, and I thought I’d finally found him after I talked to his brother, Derek, two days ago in Salt Lake City, Utah.

  “Oh yeah, he’s got property on that mountain. Now, I’ve never been there, and I haven’t seen him for six months. So I do think he’s there… but I can’t be sure…”

  It was as much of a clue as I’ve ever had to go on.

  But there’s nothing now. No sound except for the muffled sway of wind through the pine trees. If I stop breathing for a moment and the pounding in my head subsides, I can almost make out the gentle fall of snow on the ground.

  I didn’t find him. My target. The billionaire with the bag of gold coins, the ones worth billions upon billions of dollars. And growing every day. Digital gold coins.

  I laugh a little. The thought of it is funny even now. How did he disappear? Where’s he been? Not here.

  I’ve been hunting for a day. Days?

  There are empty cabins. Mazes of trails. No sprawling properties or huge houses, nothing like I’d been told would be here.

  My stomach turns, and my eyes open again.

  “Just hold on,” I mutter. “Don’t fall asleep.”

  That’s what they say in the survival books. Don’t fall asleep. Warm up your body. Stay warm.

  But my lips are numb now, and my teeth are no longer chattering. My foot couldn’t move even if I tried. I won’t try. I don’t have enough energy. I look up at the trees and over to the grove where my phone and my pack with the fire starter fell when I stepped into this thing.

  Hard, cold, scraping metal.

  A bitter memory. It seems distant.

  But it was an hour—maybe hours?—ago. Maybe it was yesterday. I can’t quite remember.