"I'm not going to harm you, silly."
He understood better once she shut the door of her bedroom. Possibly small by his standards, but the bed would suit their needs and she liked it well enough.
"Is this it?" he asked. Leaning against the door, he lifted his leg up and touched the opposite wall with his foot. "It's a bit small, isn't it?"
"Shut up," she said, getting to her knees and trying to figure out how to unbuckle his pants.
"Is that a bed?" he asked, scrutinizing her straw-filled mattress on the floor. "There aren't fleas, are there?"
"How do you get this off?" She didn't have a million experiences with men, but most of the ones she'd bedded wore pants much less fancy than this.
"Oh, you just do—" He unsnapped a buckle, undid a few buttons, then pulled at a certain spot and his pants dropped to his knees. "—this."
She grinned, looking at her reward, and—then frowned. "You're not even hard."
"I'm nervous!" he said. "I wasn't expecting this."
"Is this going to happen often, because I'm not sure why we added sex into the agreement if so?"
"No! No, look, hold on."
Roland put his hands under her arms and picked her up from the ground so she was standing next to him. "Let's—let's take it slow. Savor it."
Elizabeth shrugged and laughed. "Whatever you wish." For twenty gold coins she could go as slow as he liked. Even for less, she might agree, because Roland was a Prince and rather handsome. Just the fact of sleeping with him could get her money from someone, she was pretty sure. And hopefully he was a good lay, since they must train royalty in that or something, right?
He removed her glasses and placed them delicately on a shelf nearby.
"I can't see." She frowned.
"Shhh."
Despite his previously awkward nature, he did end up being rather good at this. His hands were masculine and strong, yet smooth, unlike the rough fingers of most every other man she knew. He unbuttoned her white blouse down to the top of her black corset, then pushed away the fabric above her chest. Moving in, he kissed the tops of her breasts and licked along the curves of her collarbone.
Elizabeth melted. Most men she knew, and occasionally fucked, went straight for the goods. They never bothered to unbutton anything, they ripped her clothes off. They didn't kiss her, they slobbered on her. They didn't—
Roland pulled her towards him, his hands on her waist. She was shorter, so he ended up grinding his crotch against her stomach, but somehow this was more erotic to her. With fast movements, contrasting with the slow, languorous kissing along the bottom of her neck, he spread her legs with his foot then picked her up with his knee. Pressing her against the wall, with her body lifted up on his knee between her thighs, he held her in midair.
"You're very beautiful, Elizabeth," he said, whispering against her skin, inching his lips up along her neck to her cheek.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and she smiled, looking down at him. Her vision was terrible, and he was a blur, but she liked the way he looked like this. A soft stretch of colors, like a ghost, lifting her off the ground and teasing her.
One hand groped her breasts through the cloth of her blouse and corset while the other deftly undid the buttons on both. Once finished, he opened her clothing and revealed her bare skin. She felt strange, wanting to blush, except this was sex for money, so why should she? Business, pure and simple, and very good business at that. She forgot all of that when his lips descended on one of her hardened nipples. He sucked it in his warm, wet mouth, and rolled his tongue across the sensitive nub with tender passion.
She writhed in his grip, scared she might fall but not able to control herself. He held her up, though, steady and sure, body pressed close to hers while his knee found a good place to nestle between her thighs. He inched his knee upwards just as he gently nibbled on her nipple, eliciting a gasp from her. With practiced, obvious skill, he maneuvered his thigh and knee so that with even the faintest movement he could make the cloth of her skirt and panties rub against her clit and smooth, moist lower lips.
"Fuck," she said. "Are you hard yet?" It was a chore to speak during his manipulation of her body, but she managed somehow.
"Yes, but—"
"Let me down, let me down," she said. "I need you inside me so bad. On the bed, on the bed!"
"I'm trying to—"
"Do I have to beg? I want you to fuck me!"
~*~
You can find the rest of this story here: The Prince's Pet
Other Writing by Cerys du Lys
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The Prince's Pet
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Hunted by the Beast
Claimed by the Beast
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Caitlyn St. Cyr
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About the Author
Cerys is a USA Today Bestselling Author. She has charted on numerous best sellers and hot new release lists internationally and with multiple books.
Cerys lives in the Greater Boston area in a small town in New Hampshire. She spends her days writing, reading books, learning, and working. And maybe sometimes she flirts with the mailman. Some of her most favorite activities involve understanding and learning about emotions and relationships.
She adores pondering sexual sensuality, as well. Most of her writing delves into this in some way, exploring reactions and relationships between different people. While she enjoys writing steamy romance, her goal is to give you substance and intrigue with your sexy scenes. Every story she writes has a delightful plot along with the more devious and delicious scenes we all want to read.
She prefers romance stories with a little mystery and suspense and the occasional romantic thriller. While many of her novels happen in a contemporary setting, she occasionally dabbles in fantasy and paranormal romance.
Check out more from Cerys du Lys (here).
Afterwords
If you have any questions about this story, or requests for a future addition, feel free to email them to [email protected] . I can't promise a response to every single one, nor can I say that requests will be fulfilled, but everything will be read. As long as they are appropriate and respectful, at least.
His Absolute Authority: A Scandalous Billionaire Love Story (Jessika, #3) Page 23