My Royal Hook-Up
Page 3
“Me?” I say, my voice rough. “I make you feel at ease? The monster of a prince who isn’t even welcome in his own country? You want me to take the most precious gift you have to give?”
Because suddenly this isn’t a game anymore. It’s real. So fucking real my chest hurts. Because this woman deserves better than I could ever give.
Pleasure, yes. I have plenty of that in store. But how can that be enough for her when she knows what her future holds beyond this night?
She tugs me toward her, and before I know what is happening, I’m between her legs, my tip stroking her folds as she sucks in a series of sharp breaths.
I groan. She’s wet, warm and soft as silk. “What the fuck are you doing?”
She presses her chest to mine, squeezing my cock between her thighs.
“There’s no such thing as love at first sight,” she says, echoing her words from the Lovers’ Leap. “Take me, Damien. However you want.”
Before I can say anything in response, she tangles her fingers in my hair and pulls me to her, crushing her lips against mine.
You’re right, Princess. There’s no such thing.
Juliet
Damien feasts on me like a man possessed. Moaning, I surrender to his tongue’s wicked assault, savoring each possessive glide. His mouth is everywhere as he treats my body like a triple-scoop chocolate fudge sundae with a cherry on top. I am reduced to making halting, mewling whimpers like a lost kitten.
My entire life I have felt alone, but in this moment, I am found.
“What happens next?” I gasp as he licks up the side of my belly. “You insert your penis in my vagina and we commence procreation?”
“Procreation?” he barks out a laugh. “Jesus, Princess. Imagine taking the Nightgardin throne with an Edenvale bastard in your belly.”
I flush, reality returning for an unwelcome moment. “I’m sorry. Growing up I was never allowed to call sexual congress by any other word than procreation.”
He stands and tilts my chin so I am staring up at him dead-on with no escape. No shame either. I’m utterly naked and at his mercy, and yet feel safer than I have in years.
“We’re not having sexual congress either, my lady.”
“No?” My voice is husky.
He shakes his head and leans in, his lips pressing to my ear, nipping my sensitive skin until an enticing heat spreads down my neck, radiating to my breasts. “This is the part where you say, ‘Fuck me, Damien.’”
The word surges through my core like a jolt of electricity. “I... I don’t say such things.”
He smugly arches a single brow. “Too bad then. Because you don’t get my cock unless you ask. No, scratch that. Unless you demand it. Because tonight’s lesson is this...” He strokes the ruddy erection standing at attention between his muscular legs. “This isn’t a penis. It’s a cock. My cock. And I don’t just put it in you.”
I press my hip bones against him. “What...do you do?”
He feigns a solemn expression, but by now I know better. “Utter the secret password and you’ll discover all.”
“P-password?” I stumble.
“Fuck me, Damien.”
I lick my dry lips and avert my gaze to his biceps, perfectly sculpted and coursing with thick veins. Goose bumps pepper my skin as I mumble the words.
“I’m sorry,” he replies coolly. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
I repeat myself a fraction louder, my hands balled against my sides.
He kisses me deeply, his tongue teasing mine in leisurely, long licks. “Still not quite hearing you.”
I grab his chin and force him to look me straight in the eye. “Fuck me, Damien,” I announce, loud and clear—so much so that I don’t recognize my own voice. Because no such words would ever spill from my lips. Yet here they are. “Fuck me...hard?” I add the second part to my question on impulse, but it makes me achy and wet all the same.
He growls his approval. “Good girl.”
He scoops me into his arms before I can draw another breath and carries me to a bedroom with an impressive king-size bed.
I expect him to toss me down and ravage my body like a depraved animal.
Instead, he eases me onto the mattress as if I am a rare and delicate gift.
“You are every inch a queen.” A low rumble vibrates through his chest. His gaze full of dark promise...and something that I’d be tempted to describe as wonder.
Sweat mists my fevered skin as invisible flames fire through my belly. I know, I know, that I don’t believe in love—especially with someone I just met—but at that moment, I swear I fall for him...just a little. Enough that I’m dizzy and giddy at the thought of his hands on me again.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“Now I get some protection so we can fuck without doing any of that procreating you are all so fond of in this realm.”
He turns and walks to his dresser, opening a top drawer. I admire his firm, masculine ass. I memorize the indents on either side of his buttocks and the way his hard quads bulge with muscle.
When he returns, he clutches a small silver square.
“How does the protection...work?” I grimace. But in this such case, I was never meant to be protected, for what queen would want protection from her king?
“Watch and learn.” He rips the corner with his teeth and removes an object that I don’t recognize. Then he places it on the edge of his...cock...and rolls it down.
“Oh, I understand!” I exclaim, catching on at last. “You are going to use that to catch all of the semen.”
His laugh is no more than a single gruff bark, but nevertheless, it’s genuine. “You’re an odd little duck, you know that?”
I raise my chin. “No one addresses me like that.” But then I drop the fake imperious routine and crack a grin. “All right, all right, you win. I am as odd a duck as there ever was. Sorry.”
“No. Never apologize.” His nostrils flare. “Your innocence, it’s a rare thing this day and age.”
“Perhaps, but I’d rather it wasn’t my sole value.”
Something flashes deep in his eyes. “I understand. And I’m not just turned on because you are a virgin. I... I...need you to know that.”
I’m surprised. I never expected to see this notorious playboy seem uncertain.
“Here’s the deal,” he says. “I don’t know what’s happening here. But since I saw you in that alley, it’s as if I’ve left the real world and entered some kind of dream.” He crawls over me, tangling his hands in my hair. “Life suddenly feels brighter. I swear I smell roses and hear snippets of music. What the fuck are you doing to me, Princess?”
“This.” I wrap my legs around his trim hips, and he presses right at the center of me, positioning himself at my wet, but tight, entrance.
“You’re sure you want this?” He searches my face, and I do the same with him.
I know what he’s really asking. Do you want me?
And god forgive me, I do. I really, really do.
He is so beautiful, scars and all. “I wanted you before I knew you. After all, you’re very handsome,” I admit shyly. “But now after meeting you... Damien. I need you. I need you to be the one.”
He presses his forehead to mine, and as he gives me a deep, lush kiss, a shudder rocks him. “I don’t know what the hell I’ve done in my shitty life to deserve you, but whatever it is, I’m grateful.”
I laugh softly. “You promise you won’t go for the, you know, back door?”
The corner of his mouth quirks into a roguish grin. “I am a man with sexual urges. I make no apologies for that,” he says. “But I’ve only been inside one other pussy, and that was a long, long time ago.”
“I imagine it’s like riding a bike,” I say, fighting for a levity that I do not feel.
His eyes darken as his tip parts
my intimate lips. “Gorgeous, trust me. It’s nothing like riding a bike.”
And then, slowly, inexorably, he begins to enter me, inch by slow inch.
“Oh!” I gasp. There’s a sharp bite of pain and then... “Oh.” I moan. “Oh God.”
He starts slow and gentle, sliding in to the root and then out again with such care it makes me ache.
Ache for him. For more.
“Christ, Princess,” he says, sinking into me again, and I run my fingers over the taut muscles of his arms, his abdomen. And then I squeeze that perfectly sculpted ass.
It’s glorious.
“I didn’t know.” My voice shakes. “I didn’t know what I was giving up. And now that I do—”
He gives me a searing kiss before I can finish, and it’s a good thing. Because if I spoke what I know now is the truth, I’d damn us both.
I don’t ever want to give you up.
I’m being cared for. Revered. Worshipped. Damien slides a hand between my legs and works my sensitive pearl while filling me with every last perfect inch of him.
Sweat sheens our bellies. I can’t be quiet. I try, but it’s impossible. You might as well ask me to catch a rainbow between my fingertips. I buck and arch, my body moving like a wild thing that cannot—that from here on out will not—be tamed. I’m drenched and swollen with need. My inner thighs soaked with my own arousal, creamy for his granite erection.
He pulls me up and falls back on his knees, still joined to me and takes my breast into his mouth, sucking at my hardened peak in hot, confident pulls until I cry out, a sound so guttural I wouldn’t know it was human if it hadn’t come from my own lips.
“Fuck me, Damien,” I whimper, and he raises his head, his eyes meeting mine, his gaze narrowed and intense.
“Louder,” he orders.
“Fuck me!” I command, riding up then slamming down over him until he’s filled me to my core.
He answers me with an animal roar, lifting me off the bed completely and pinning my ass against the wall, his cock still buried inside me, nestled against some hidden bundle of nerves.
He kisses me hard, and I bite his lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood. His thrusts come hard and fast, each expert stroke coaxing me to buck against him until my vision threatens to go black.
Then—I explode. I am a million pieces, every nerve so sensitive I fear the slightest touch now will bring me to tears. I’m not sure I’ll ever be whole again.
I lower my legs to the floor, but Damien still holds me, as if he knows I might fall.
“Juliet.” He whispers my name in my ear. “That was god damn beautiful.”
His voice is full of the same wonder that courses through my veins.
I can tell it is with a groan of regret that he pulls from me, and I feel a flood between my thighs.
“Shit,” he hisses.
“What happened?” I dip my head to see milky white liquid running down my legs. “Have I done something wrong?”
He should be smiling, but his expression is grim. “No, gorgeous. You were perfect. More than perfect. But the condom broke.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Damien
I SHOW A shaken Juliet to the bathroom, and she locks herself in. I press my palms to the door, my head falling against the heavy wood, and I hear the shower start.
“Fuck. What the hell have I done?”
I’ve most likely ruined the future queen of Nightgardin. I haven’t set her up for banishment. I’ve put her on the path to execution.
Somehow I make my way to the edge of the bed where I sit, head in hands. Two women. I’ve only been with two women like this, and I’ve likely now sent both to their graves.
I hear the click of the bathroom door, but I don’t dare move. How can I look her in the eye?
“Damien,” she says softly, resting her warm palms on my bare thighs. “Damien, look at me. Please.”
I lift my head, realizing the emotion that overwhelmed me when I was inside her was not merely from sex. Because at this moment I realize I’d do just about anything for this woman—this stranger whose life is forever changed because of me.
I expect her cheeks to be tear-soaked, the whites of her eyes to be bloodshot. Instead, I find a crystal-clear gaze coming from a woman I almost don’t recognize.
“Juliet?” I ask like a fool. Of course it’s her.
“Everything will be okay,” she says with a sureness that makes my chest ache. Because she could not be more wrong.
She’s wrapped in a plush white hotel towel, her rich brown locks dripping onto her shoulders.
“I fucked up,” I say, cradling her cheeks in my hands. “Don’t you see? This is who I am. I ruin anyone and anything I care about.”
She grins and strokes my hair from my forehead.
“Are you saying you care about me, Damien Lorentz?” Then she lets the towel fall.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask as her gaze falls to my cock, hard as a rock, my body betraying me.
“I am not fertile,” she says. “At least, not right now. My governess taught me to chart my fertility the day I first bled. Orders from the king and queen. They wanted to be sure that as soon as I turned twenty-one and they handed me off to Nightgardin’s next king that he would plant his heir in me on his first try.” She grabs my cock, squeezes my shaft in her now-expert grip. “Of course I have not tested the method’s effectiveness before tonight.” She bats her long lashes at me.
My eyes widen. I’ve never heard of such a method, yet I’ve never given a shit what a woman did since what I did in the bedroom never put me in danger of getting a woman pregnant. How is she not afraid? How is she not beating her fists against my chest, berating me for ruining her?
“I’m free of disease, if that’s something you’re worried about,” I say, aiming to reassure her when the truth is that she doesn’t seem the least bit nervous, and I wonder if it’s not my own apprehension I’m trying to assuage. “I’ve always been safe with—” Saying it aloud now seems too boorish.
“With the countless other women you’ve taken from behind?”
Juliet finishes the thought, my bold little princess.
I nod. “Why is it different with you?” The question is more to myself, but something in me wants her to know that the second I buried myself inside her, everything changed.
“I don’t know,” she answers. “I sought you out for what I thought you could do for me physically.” She kisses my forehead, her taut nipples brushing against my chest. My cock pulses in reaction. “But you were kind and caring the second you approached me outside the club.”
“You were hurt,” I say, curtly.
“And you could have left me to fend for myself. But you didn’t.”
She strokes my hair, her gaze unblinking and fixed on mine. Then kisses the tip of my scar at the side of my jaw, and my chest tightens. I’ve survived for years on the rush of fast cars and the types of encounters with women that allowed my heart to remain numb.
I rest my hands on her hips, my fingertips kneading her soft skin.
“I wasn’t supposed to feel,” I admit, realizing I’m treading on very thin ice. Because feeling something for this woman is not an option.
“Do you want to know what I feel, Damien?” But she doesn’t wait for me to respond. “I feel trust.” She lifts my palm to her chest, my fingertips tracing the arrow of birthmarks, placing it over her heart—and her beautiful bare breast. “Right in here. And I feel safe.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “You’re deluding yourself, Princess. No one is safe with me.” Of this I am certain.
She climbs over me, balancing so the tip of my cock teases her opening.
“If you could keep from hurting me, would you?”
“Yes,” I admit with zero hesitation. “But we both know that isn’t an option.
”
“This is, though,” she says, sinking over me like a custom-made racing glove.
She gasps, and I growl.
“Juliet... Jesus... Do you not...understand...what just happened?” I can barely speak because I am inside her with no barrier, her rich, tight warmth driving me out of my goddamn mind. “If your little chart doesn’t work, I could have put you at more risk than you ever anticipated.”
She pushes my shoulders, urging me onto my back.
“I understand three things,” she says. “The first is that it will take days for anyone to find me, as my governess believes I’m spending the weekend cloistered at the royal church praying and thanking God for the good fortune of my match.”
This makes me grin. “You really are an evil genius in disguise. Do you know that?”
She raises a brow. “The second is that I’m not ready to give you up for my duties after only one night. Not yet.”
I grip her hips tight and pulse inside her.
She writhes.
“And the third...” She pauses, and I watch that now-familiar flush creep up her chest, to her neck, and finally to her cheeks.
“Just say it, Princess. It can’t be worse than asking me if we were going to procreate.”
She lets out a nervous laugh, then leans down, pressing her breasts to my chest, her lips a breath away from my ear.
“The third is that when I do go home and marry Rupert, I’ll have the memory of my short time with you—the closest I will ever get to being passionately, ass over elbow, in love.”
I flip her over and kiss her with the hunger of a man starved of food, of water, of air, of anything and everything essential to the most basic survival.
Because she is all of these things and so much more. And so, for the next two days, I eat, drink and breathe nothing other than Juliet. I worship her body, and she nourishes my soul. She has unlocked a gate I thought no longer had a key, and hell if I know how the hell I’ll ever close it back up.