“What is it?”
My cheeks are flushing as I say it, but the words spill out of me. “I want to watch you make yourself feel good,” I say.
He makes an amused noise. “Si?” He adjusts me in his lap. “Is that what you want?”
I nod and slide off of him, slipping back into the pillows, propping myself up. He presents me with his palm.
“Lick,” he commands, and I do. I lap at his hand, painting his skin with my saliva. “Good girl.” He takes his cock in hand. It’s rock-hard and waiting, the tip flushed as red as my cheeks.
“After this, we do what I want,” he says, “since I’m giving you a show.”
My mouth goes dry and I nod. Anything, to see him touch himself, show me exactly how he likes it.
“Do you know how long I’ve thought of this?” he asks me as he grips his rod, his face turning dark. His eyes burn over my skin, and I don’t want to ask him how long, or why, because I’m too busy drinking in the look of him, spine steel-straight, head slightly bowed, as he works his hand up and down his length.
My lips part as he watches me watching him. This is the most erotic thing I’ve ever done in my life. The wet sound of his hand over his skin makes my sex throb. My thighs tighten together.
I want him, that, inside of me.
I feel hot all over, and he groans, spreading his knees, bracing a hand next to me on the sheets as he works himself over.
“After this, you’re gonna give me what I want.” His words are breathy and thick. His eyes close tight and his hand stills on his cock, his hips hitching like he wants to fuck into his fist. “Lie back, beautiful.”
I obey, flattening myself. He straddles me, his heavy thighs bracing on either side of my body. His cock bobs in front of my face and my mouth opens automatically.
“Is this what you want?” His voice is a soft rasp. “I just bathed you last night. Made you clean. And now you want to be dirty again?”
I’m too overcome to do more than whimper. My breasts are heaving.
He’s stroking himself faster now, tipping back his head, caught in his own passion. “Leah,” he breathes, and comes. The blast of seed spills from the head of his cock over my lush breasts, frosting my skin with silver.
He leans down, swipes his finger across my coated breasts, and feeds his cum to me. I round my lips and suck hard, pulling on his digit. His gaze goes black.
“Principessa mia.” He breathes the words like they’re a prayer, and bends over to open a drawer, pulling out two black, silk lengths of fabric. He gives me a look that should strike fear right into my heart. But it doesn’t.
“Now,” he says. “We do what I want.”
I hold my breath as he takes my ankles and ties them apart. Then he settles between my bound legs, and licks me until I beg him to stop.
Leah
The sheets rustleas I wake up, melting from the dark back into consciousness. My fingers slip along the crisp linen, seeking the warmth I’m starting to get used to finding?—
Nothing. My hand closes on empty space and I sit up, my curls tumbling away from my face.
Royal’s gone, and my heart squeezes hot and tight in my chest. Light is sliding through the room, gray and overcast. I guess the storm is still haunting us, keeping me here.
The clock on the bedside table has its hour hand pointed to two, and I squeak.Two in the afternoon?I haven’t slept this late in years.
I need to get up.
The carpet is plush against my feet as I get out of bed, and for a moment I want to leave the blankets rumpled in memorial to an epic night and early morning, but I can’t. I smooth the duvet, and straighten the pillows. It seems like a crime to leave things a mess when this bedroom is more beautiful than anything I’ve seen on HGTV or pinned on my Pinterest board.
Warmth radiates up from the floor, caressing my skin, and I’m very aware that I’m not wearing anything. Me, naked, my curves bare in this beautiful, minimalist shrine to masculinity. Anyone could walk in right now. I sneak across the room, feeling like an intruder in this place, Royal’s home.
I squint at the closet doors, wondering if there’s something behind them that would work for me. Even a shirt of Royal’s would fall down past my thighs. That would be okay to tide me over. It’s going to be awkward to figure out what to wear home.Um, Royal, can you buy me some clothes so I can ride the bus?
Talk about a walk of shame.
