Page 98 of Royal Legacy


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I tugged my shirt over my head.

“I don’t know what that word means.” I popped the buckle on my belt and shoved my pants down. Thinking quickly, I closed the bathroom door—all the way this time. I pushed the lock so we would have no unexpected interruptions.

“Excruciating. Intolerable. Unbear—”

Leaning forward, I snatched her to me, cutting off her English lesson by thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She squeaked. But as I moved against her, she began to fucking suck.

I nearly came right there.

Shucking my boxers, I climbed into the bathtub, slapping the glass partition shut. Poppy reached for me, but I caught her hands, forcing them above her head. She hissed against my mouth when I pinched her nipple. The hot air rushed against me. Delicious.Sweet.

“What were you doing in here? Hmm?” I murmured, voice thick with need.

Poppy stared up at me, a challenge dancing in her own eyes. “Plotting your death.”

A rough laugh barked from my throat. “A likely story.”

“No, it’s very plausible.”

There was another big word. Time to silence her vocabulary.

“On your knees, flower.” I hooked my thumb in her mouth, pressing against her jaw, and forced her down.

She sank her teeth into me with a hiss. I dropped my hold on her wrists, gripped her hair tight, and with unforgiving direction, bent her low.

Poppy had to blink the spray from her eyes.

“Suck,” I commanded.

Such a sinful sight. On her knees, the prayer gleaming in her eyes.

Poppy pulled my thumb deep into her mouth.

“Do you see what you do to me?” I breathed. I pumped my cock, once—twice. “Does it scare you?”

“No,” she garbled around my hold.

I smirked. For once, I liked that answer on her lips. But only just this once.

“What should I do about this?” I slid my grip over the velvety surface. “I hate taking care of the problem alone in my room. But if that’s what you want me to do, I’ll go.”

Her chest rose and fell as she considered me. Up and down. Air in and out. Behind me, the showerhead pelted rain in a relentless onslaught. The other wand shot water in a cutting stream against the wall, splashing back on us as it fell.

Poppy pushed against my thumb with her tongue. I let her spit it out. If she refused me, I might die. But then, she leaned forward. That lush mouth closed hesitantly over the tip.

Pleasure shot straight up my shaft. It struck deep in my belly. I’d had body shots from an opponent’s fist that packed less punch than this.

Poppy’s elegant fingers brushed over my thighs, exploring the ridges and dents of muscle. She rose on her knees, pulling me deeper into her mouth.

Stars bloomed in the bathroom. The world went black then bright white in a blinding instant.

“Fuck,” I hissed. “You’re good at this.”

Poppy snorted. “Beginner’s luck.”

The drone of water and a full mouth muffled the words. I stared at her, not trusting what I heard.

She was hesitant at first, sucking and tasting, but as she gained control of the situation, her tempo increased.