“Good. Because I’m about to come.”
“Let it go, baby, I want to feel you fall apart on my dick.”
She pulled me closer to her, and I buried my head into her neck, wrapping my arms tight around her. Her walls started to contract around my cock, inching me closer and closer to release.
“I’m there, Knox. Please let me come.”
“Let me hear it, baby. I want to hear how good it feels.”
She fell apart around me, her moans louder and louder as she screamed my name. I gripped her hips and guided her up as I thrust harder and harder until I felt that heavy pull at the base of my spine. One more thrust and I was there with her.
I emptied everything I had into her as she leaned againstmy chest and made soft noises of satisfaction. I caught my breath and then rolled her over onto the bed so I could toss the condom in the trash.
When I turned back, Birdie was gone, and there was a ringing in the room. I looked around and couldn't find where it was coming from…
The sun shone through the slit in the blackout curtains that hung against the window of my room. My phone alarm was ringing.
I reached over to silence my alarm as the realization hit me.
…It had been a dream.
Holy shit, that was far too real. So much so that my dick was rock hard and felt like it was about to rip a hole in my boxer briefs.Fuck.
I flipped back the covers and was met with two very judgmental eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. You don’t even have balls, so you don’t get to judge.”
Eugene let out a snarky bark.
I got up and made my way to the bathroom—a difficult task given my raging hard-on. I flipped the switch, turned on the heated floor, and stepped inside the shower to get the hot water and steam going as I discarded my pants.
I wish ithadbeen real.
The thought flitted through my mind before I could stop it. I knew that Birdie was here to court Oliver, and I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about her. I had tried so hard to put herout of my mind from the moment she agreed to join the competition, but last night had clearly demonstrated my failure in that regard.
Maybe it was just lust or the fact that I hadn’t been laid in a while. Yes, that must be it.
Water flowed from the rainwater shower head in the ceiling of the shower, and the built-in jets along the black slate walls shot right into my shoulder blades. The tight knots started to melt away. I stood there for a good five minutes just letting the water do its work before I grabbed my shampoo and started to massage and lather it through my hair.
The hot water did nothing for the rage going on down below. I knew there was only one way to get it to go away and I started to rub myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about my dream and how corporeal Birdie had felt.
Birdie. The girl my best friend was supposed to be courting. Guilt washed over me along with the water. I tried pushing her from my mind as I grabbed my aching cock, starting from the base and running my hand along the length. But as I pumped my hand, flashes of Birdie's face, the way she moaned my name in the dream, and the way her ass had felt in my hands back in New York danced through my mind.
Jesus, I was the worst. This girl was there for my best friend, not me. And I was going to have to see her today. I tightened my grip and thick, white ropes of cum flew across the shower and washed down the drain. I hit my hand against the stone wall.
“Fuck!” This couldn’t be happening. I could never think of this again. I couldn’t fuck this up for Oliver.
As I took a seat on the antique damask sofa in the queen’s office, a staff member hurried over and set a small teacup and saucer in front of me, pouring the hot liquid into the cup.
“Thank you,” I said, a tinge of guilt running through me because I didn’t know her name, something I made a point to learn for every new palace employee. As head of the grounds team, I knew the hard work that each staff member put in and wanted them to know that they were seen and appreciated. Making sure that everyone was recognized and thanked was important to me.
“Would you like any sugar, sir?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“No, thank you,” I replied with a smile. “Are you new here?”
“Yes, sir. This is my first week.”
“What a week to start.” I picked up the dainty white cup painted with pine boughs. “What’s your name?”
