Crown Jewels

by Ella James

  My brain explodes with memories of perfection wrapped in wet boxer-briefs. I’m not thinking. I just touch.

  He sucks back a sharp breath. I trace the plump, perfect head, hating the fabric barrier between my hand and his skin. Liam groans, his length jutting toward me.

  I look into his eyes and find them hazy. “Lucy…”

  “You want me to touch it?” My voice is sultry, not my voice at all.

  I’m rubbing him before he has the chance to answer. His breath catches. Then he moans low in his throat and starts to pant. His eyes are shut, I find as I rub his thick cock through his pants. His hand hovers over my mine as if he wants to grab me. His long fingers curl into a fist.

  I drag my fingers down the length of him, surprised to find he’s even bigger than I thought. His heavy eyelids lift a little. My Lord, he’s fucking gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect male, and this one, shirtless, panting as he presses up against my hand—he turns me on so much I want to screw him.

  Holy hell, I want to screw Prince Liam.

  I try to grip him through his pants, fondle his balls, waiting for him to jump up and throw me on the bed. Waiting for him to scare me.

  But he doesn’t.

  He just locks his big fist up over my arm and leans his head back on the pillow, groaning through his locked jaw as I unbutton his pants and come to his black boxer-briefs. I can see his head so well. I see the rim of it. I rub a fingertip over it and he mutters a curse.

  His hand uncurls, the side of his fingers touching my wrist. I reach inside his boxer-briefs and wrap my hand around him. Still, he doesn’t grab my arm. I watch his face as I firm up my grip and stroke him. I can feel his hips tremble. I fold his fly back, try to pull his briefs down. He lifts his hips and pulls them down himself. I look with wide eyes at what has got to be an eight-inch dick and the weighty balls below. Crown Jewels.

  I touch his balls and watch them draw up underneath my fingertips. I run my hand from the base of his cock back up toward the tip. His eyes open on a deep breath.

  “Fuck…”

  Oh my God, is that a little bit of precum? I feel a rush of heat between my own legs as I blink at it. For the first time in two years, I clench. I feel greedy. Needy.

  Holy hell, I have to have him.

  My head spins as I climb on top of him, straddling his hips as his eyes rise to meet mine. He flexes beneath me, and a zip of fear streaks through me. That he’ll throw me off and get on top of me. That he’ll grab my wrists and squeeze. Instead, Prince Liam peers up at me with hooded eyes, smiling a pirate’s smile as his hand rubs my knee.

  I pull my dress up and struggle with my thong. My hands are shaking too hard to pull it off. I rub myself against him, panting. Liam groans.

  “Christ almighty…” His jaw is locked as he rasps, “Lucy.” Then he rips my thong.

  He says something else in what I realize must be Gaelic. Then he’s reaching down, stroking himself. With the fingers of his other hand, he parts my lips. He rubs a finger over me, making me tremble.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful…”

  I don’t know how he knows because his eyes are shut, but I love the way his face looks. Suddenly it’s all I can do to stay still. And then I can’t. I’m shaking as I pull his cock away from his amazing abs. My legs quiver as I rise up, holding his shaft, pushing his thick head against my entrance.

  His lips are parted now, his eyes still shut. I sink down on him inch by slow, amazing inch and watch him writhe, knees coming up around me as I take him deep—so deep I can’t help crying out.

  His hands squeeze my hips, not to hard. And then he’s lifting me off him, his muscular arms straining so my legs don’t have to. His powerful abs ripple with each thrust: he rises just a little, letting me sink down on him. I put my hands over his and use my legs to rise and fall, taking control of things. Taking control because I have to.

  He doesn’t let me fully. Liam sets the pace, his big breaths punctuating the rhythm of our thrusting. I’m rising up, using the well-honed muscles of my thighs, but his hands around my hips are lifting, too.

  When I sink, I lean over, pinching his nipples sometimes, reaching around behind myself to cup his balls. His groans are loud and ragged. His face is tense, almost pained, and I love it when I feel the goose-bumps on his diamond-chiseled hips.

  Then he changes something up… Changes the angle. When he fills me up…I lose control. I can’t stop the sounds from pouring from my throat. Can’t stop the way I lean sideways against his raised knee, gripping it with my arm. I hear a whimper, and it’s mine.

  “Oh God!” I’m so full. I don’t think I’ve ever been this full before…

  “That’s right,” he murmurs, thrusting harder.

  When he pulls out and lifts me up, I’m desperate for him, scrambling to get back on that huge cock. My skin tingles with sweat. My mouth is open; I can’t breathe—

  I feel him harden, swell and tighten, stretching me. When I’m filled with him, I grind around.

  “Oh my God!”

  I’m right there on the edge. He draws me off him, and I fumble to grab onto his arms and press myself back down. My fingers graze his hips, and then he pushes me down hard. I’m filled so deep and full, my body starts to quake. My stomach quivers, and my eyes flip open just in time to find he’s watching me.

  His lips are curved, his eyes lust-hazed.

  I do the only thing I can think of to equalize the situation, reaching around behind myself again to roll his big balls in my shaking fingers. One roll, followed by a gentle tug. I feel his cock thump hard inside me, causing me to lean down on him. That’s where I lie as heat fills me: there across his flawless chest.

  For just a second, his hands cup my face. His eyes linger on mine, his mouth still open with pleasure, his thick pecs rising under me.

  “Luce. Goddamn.”

  It’s an exultation.

  I feel so good there on him, I can’t move for a long moment. He just came inside me, and it feels so right.

  I marvel at how…fine I feel. How tired and good and…good.

  I stroke my nails up his side. “Mmm.” I grin.

  Liam laughs, a throaty sound.

  I feel his lips on my forehead as he leans up, the quick swipe of his palm over my hair. “You are fucking perfect, Lucy Rhodes.”

  He pushes up on one elbow, holding me against him for a moment, one big arm around me.

  Then I’m easing off him, and he’s moving lithely off the bed. “Let me get you something.”

  I sink into the covers, waiting for the fallout: for a shudder, for a sob. But nothing comes.

  He returns smirking, and grins broadly when our eyes meet. Instead of handing me the warm, wet cloth, he delves under the covers, his knuckles grazing my belly as he spreads the cloth over me and lays his hand there, as if offering some wordless blessing over my vagina.

  I start laughing, and he laughs with me.

  “You’re a real prince, Liam.”

  He grins. “I’ve been told.”

  And it’s so natural, I don’t feel funny cleaning up under the covers with him there beside me.

  I stretch out on my back, catching my breath. I’m thinking how sad I’ll be to get up when he lies beside me, his big shoulder bumping mine.

  “You were incredible,” he says in a gravelly voice. And somehow, it’s not patronizing or weird. Just very, very genuine.

  I giggle like a dumb teenager.

  He turns over on his side, propping his head in his hand as he looks down on me. Then he lies back flat, wraps an arm around me, pulls me close, and kisses just under my ear. One of his legs rubs mine. He makes a soft, male sound, then falls asleep as if we do this every night.

  I lie awake staring at him in the darkness. Who is this man? I run my open palm over his hair, which he let down sometime when I wasn’t looking. He relaxes just a little more against me, and I like it. That’s the last thought that I have before I wake up to an empty bed.
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  * * *

  Liam

  Several hours later

  “I can’t believe you fucking did that.”

  I shrug, wiping my forearm over my busted mouth.

  “You know we have to leave now, yeah?” my cousin Heath asks.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I see little yellow starbursts, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. “We don’t have to.”

  He sighs, gassing the Range Rover. “Ain says we do.”

  “Fuck Ain.” My head of security is a world-class ball buster. I’m sure he’s shitting his pants if he knows what just went down.

  “This is the wrong time for shit like that, and you know it.” For drama, Heath means.

  He’s right. It’s definitely the wrong time for drama. Not that I give a fuck.

  “Ain has our things loaded on the jet.”

  I shut my eyes as he hangs a right, driving too fast in the direction of the private airport.

  “I hope this was worth it,” Heath says.

  I grin, even though it pulls my bleeding lip open.

  It was more than worth it. Knowing what I’m returning to in Gael, I can’t think of another thing that would make me feel as good.

  FIVE

  Lucy

  Later that afternoon

  “Have I seen that bathing suit before?”

  I lower my iPhone, where I’m lost in an ebook. Even with my shades on, I have to squint at Amelia, who’s lying on the chair beside me, just a few inches from my family’s pool.

  I give her a funny look. “Um, yesterday?”

  “That one? The yellow?”

  I smile. “Yes. This same yellow.” I set my phone on the table beside me and reach for my lemon drop martini. “You must have been drunker than I thought.”

  “Did it have the little eyelet holes?” Amelia tugs at her white bikini bottoms, as if to reinforce she’s talking about my swim suit.

  “Yesss.” I laugh.

  She shakes her head, touching her lips. “I swear…you just look different.” Then her mouth drops slowly open. Her eyes pop. “Lucille Sutton Rhodes…” Her hand claps over her mouth, stifling a squeal. She starts to bounce. “You had been with Mags last time I saw you! Mags who came home in Dec’s jersey. When Char and I looked for you after we saw Bryce, we couldn’t find you. Not till 5 a.m. We weren’t worried because Mags was with Dec when he had Bryce thrown out. Charley kept thinking she’d seen you, but she was trashed out of her mind.” Amelia lunges out of her pool chair and slaps me on the bicep. “YOU DID IT! You got laid! Who was it? Dec’s cousin Trent? No! It was Stephen Reece!”

  I swat at her. “He’s rude and has weird teeth.”

  “Oh my freaking goodness, Luce! Who was it?”

  I can’t stop myself from cackling. “You’ll never guessssss.”

  “You better tell me, hussy! I’m your best friend!”

  I can’t help the grin that splits my face. “That’s why I can’t,” I whisper.

  “Noooooo you didn’t. No you didn’t! Oh my God, you didn’t tell me! LUCYYYYY!”

  I leap off my chair, dash to the diving board, and cannon-ball into the pool. I feel Amelia’s fingers swipe my arm before I reach the surface.

  “BITCH!” She dunks me.

  I open my eyes underwater, grasping at her bikini top. I pull it off and kick away from her. She snags my hair and tugs.

  “You better—” she gasps as we tread water— “tell me everything!”

  “He’s a grower,” I shriek.

  I’m not sure who’s louder, Am or me. We make it to the steps, smacking each other, doubled over in hysterics, me embarrassed and elated, Amelia cracking up the way she does for no real reason.

  “Jesus Christ on a cracker! Lucy Rhodes! You saw Crown Jewels with your two own eyes?”

  “My vagina’s eyes. First hand account.” I cover my face with both hands, leaning my lower back against the top step as I crack up.

  “You’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat!”

  “Am I?” I’m blushing, too.

  “So he was good. Amazing. How on Earth…?”

  I shrug, then hop up, practically skipping to my lounge chair. “It just happened.”

  “Holy fucking cow! I need the details. Right now!”

  I’m surprised to find I’m glad to give them. It feels good to have a story of my own for once. It feels good to…live…I guess is what I did last night. That Bryce was there, well, all the better.

  When I left Liam’s room, I found that it was being guarded by his own security detail.

  “It was kind of like a fairy tale,” I tell her smugly.

  “What a lucky little ho.”

  I stick my tongue out, but I can’t help grinning.

  I spend the next hour re-hashing every detail, from my Bryce freak-out to the way Prince Liam played with my hair.

  “I know it sounds insane. It just felt right, though. He was just…I don’t know. He made me feel safe.”

  Amelia smiles over the rim of her Manhattan. “This makes my day.”

  “It was just a one-night stand.” Even so, I’m still riding my high a few hours later when Char and Maggie drag themselves outside, both in dark sunglasses, chasing Advil with Gatorade.

  Within five minutes of their arrival, everybody knows almost everything. It’s embarrassing. It’s ridiculous. It’s fabulous.

  “I almost want to see your pussy, Luce. Like, get its autograph or something,” Charley grins.

  “That’s super gross, and no way.”

  As I’m getting up to flip from front to back on my chair, Maggie jumps up from her seat, walking to the lawn’s edge with her phone pressed to her ear. We’re still discussing just how beautiful the crown jewels were when she turns back toward us, phone in hand. Her face is slightly pale, her mouth gaping.

  “Oh God,” Charley says, at the same time I say, “What’s wrong?”

  She shakes her head, waving her phone around. “Everybody sit down. And don’t worry. Nothing that bad. Just…” she blinks, “surprising. Luce, down on your ass.”

  I sink onto my chair. “What?”

  Maggie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Bryce,” she says sharply, “is in the ICU. He got his ass kicked last night. On the beach behind the Parsons’ place.”

  My heart rises up into my throat, where it flutters for a sick second, then sinks slowly into my belly. “What happened?”

  Maggie shakes her head. “Nobody knows. That was Dec on the phone. He’s being very strange about it. But it wasn’t him. I mean…” She chews her lip.

  “I guess you’re his witness,” Amelia murmurs.

  “Lucy, were you with Prince Liam then?” Mags asks me.

  I nod, and don’t correct them when I realize that I wasn’t. Not all night, anyway. I woke up at 4:15 alone in Liam’s room and didn’t leave until close to 5. When I stepped into the hall, one of his guards told me he had something urgent come up and was sorry that he had to go. I figured it was probably what he had them tell all the one-night stands, but it didn’t put a damper on my spirits.

  “I heard Bryce has been gambling,” Charley says. “Since he’s been here, since he got here yesterday. I wonder if he lost a hand.”

  Amelia shrugs, her lips pulled downward. “What goes around comes around.” That’s how I know she loves me, that my super sweet best friend would say something so callous. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me, because it might have been.”

  “Karma’s a bitch,” Charley agrees, picking her cuticle.

  Maggie’s still looking down at her phone, now texting. “Luce,” she glances up, “Dec says the cops may ask you questions. Just because…” She shrugs.

  No need to spell it out; we all know why.

  I nod, and Maggie’s head bows again.

  “He says tell them security footage has you upstairs with ‘your guest’—” she rolls her eyes— “until 6:10 a.m.”

  “But that’s not right,” Amelia says.

  My stomach tightens.

&nbs
p; Maggie’s eyes find mine.

  “Did you see Bryce?” Charley asks me. “Did Prince Liam see you see Bryce?”

  I shake my head. But he’d seen me lose my shit.

  “He knew something, didn’t he?” Amelia asks. That girl can read me like a book.

  “Does he have a blue and white jet?” Maggie asks me.

  “How would I know?” I stand up, pressing my martini glass against my hot cheek.

  “One left earlier today. Eastward bound,” Mags says. I was leaving Dec’s house then. That’s when I saw it. Isn’t the Isle of Gael’s flag white and navy blue?”

  My mind is spinning.

  “I’m not going to say that would be romantic,” Maggie starts.

  “I’m not going to say knight in shining armor, either,” Amelia puts in.

  “Lucy, did you give some killer head…or like…what happened?” Char can’t stop the grin from spreading over her face.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, rubbing my temples. “You guys. I need a nap, I think.”

  “I think the prince just avenged your honor, darlin’,” Maggie drawls.

  I don’t know what to think. But I know how I feel. That night, I dream of him draped over me, his body like a shield. When I wake up in the morning, I realize that I didn’t take my Ambien. I slept all night.

  * * *

  We spend three weeks in Southampton, like old times. A few days after we find out about Bryce, Maggie lets me know the police won’t be coming my way, and Bryce is going to recover. No one mentions him again, and I don’t think about him too much. Only on the tail end of a thought about Prince Liam.

  I can’t imagine a cosmic purpose behind our encounter at Dec’s party—other than my own healing. We barely talked, and yet we slept together and shared amazing sex. He was dominant but not dominating, gentle but not patronizing, kind but not phony. He left his guards by my door and went and did something no one else would have been able to do: he kicked Bryce’s ass.

  Who would make Liam pay? The authorities in his country? Yeah, right.