Royal Rogue: A Sexy Royal Romance (Flings With Kings Book 3)

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Royal Rogue: A Sexy Royal Romance (Flings With Kings Book 3) Page 15

by Jessica Peterson


  She scoffed. “Beer makes everything better, doesn’t it?”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I said, popping a chip into my mouth. “I’m glad you called.”

  A beat of heated silence passed between us.

  “I am too,” she said, a little more quietly. “How was your day?”

  This took courage—her calling. Letting me in like this. Teasing, asking questions, flirting.

  Jane was sexy as hell. But I think her confidence was the sexiest thing about her. Her confidence, and her courage.

  Would she still be that way after everything went down on Friday? After she found out the truth?

  The questions sat like an elephant on my chest.

  I did my best to push it aside. I opened my sandwich and took a wolfish bite, not tasting a fucking thing.

  I imagined I felt the listening device poking into my butt cheek through my wallet.

  “It sucked,” I said. “But it’s better now that I’m here.”

  I meant that. I had a lot of acquaintances, but I didn’t have a lot of friends. The kind you hung out with like this.

  Jane was blinking hard again. “You’re not afraid to lay it on thick, are you?”

  “Not when it’s the truth.”

  She swallowed, hard, then finished the half of her sandwich. I smiled when she reached for the other half.

  “Although I will say I felt a little better making this stuff. I miss my mom, but I always feel close to her when I’m in the kitchen.”

  I feel close to her when I’m with you.

  “I wish I could’ve met her.”

  I looked at Jane. “She would’ve loved you.”

  Her cheeks were really pink now. “I think my parents would’ve really liked you, too, Charlie.”

  “Ah,” I said, suddenly desperate to lighten the mood. Change the subject. Something. “They had a thing for douchebag Americans?”

  “No.” She scoffed. “They had a thing for men who are kind. And real. And who don’t mind how obnoxious my brothers can be.”

  I reached for my beer and took a long pull. Finished it. I’d never been the guy you brought home to your parents. But Jane made me feel like I was all of a sudden. Like I was worthy, just for being the things my mom raised me to be.

  “I just—I feel like I can be myself with you,” Jane continued. “And they’d want that for me. Same as what your mum would want for you, I imagine.”

  Thunder rumbled. Distant danger.

  A beat later rain began to fall. The sound of it through the open window was soft. Like the sky had finally let out the breath it’d been holding.

  Mom definitely wanted that for me—someone like Jane. But here I was, deep in a con, tightening my net so I could steal from her. This excellent human being.

  I didn’t know what the fuck to do.

  Jane was looking at me.

  “What do you want, Charlie?” she asked.

  Honestly?

  “I want you.” I set down my empty bottle. It fell over on the carpet; my hand was shaking. I picked it back up. “But you know that.”

  I was tempted—so fucking tempted—to tell her everything right then. Confide in her and end this stupid game. I couldn’t, though. Jimmy’s gun was to my head. The shop, my brother, our future—it all depended on me making the right fucking choice here.

  I could live in my lie for one more night. But then I had to get real.

  Get back to business.

  Jane looked at me. Her eyes darkened. My eyes flicked to her chest. Her nipples pebbled.

  My cock pressed against the fly of my jeans.

  Agony.

  “And I want all of you,” she said. “I’m done holding back. I’m done playing it safe.”

  My heart was racing now.

  I wouldn’t offend her by asking if she was sure. She wouldn’t have said it if she weren’t.

  I could do this for one more night. Even though the ground kept shifting beneath my feet. What was solid ground one minute turned to quicksand the next.

  I grabbed onto the only thing that was real.

  Jane.

  I reached over and curled my fingers around her shin. She was breathing hard now.

  “I’m yours,” I said, meeting her eyes. “Do what you want with me, princess.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jane

  I was so wet I could feel it.

  Charlie had been in the driver’s seat our first night. But now it was my turn.

  He wanted me to take the lead. And I would. Because I was brave enough to take that on. I’d put myself out there with Charlie in a way I never had before because I fucking could.

  I was still scared. But for the first time, I trusted myself. Trusted Charlie and the things I was feeling. No one had ever adored me for just being myself the way he had.

  I was out of my cage and soaring.

  It was the headiest feeling ever. The sexiest, too. I’d never felt more desired than I did right then. Charlie’s eyes on me.

  Hungry.

  Hurting.

  “Get on the sofa,” I said, nodding at the one behind him.

  His lips twitched. “As you wish.”

  Giving my calf one last squeeze, he set the paper on his lap aside and pushed himself to his feet. He landed on the sofa with a soft oomph.

  More thunder outside. The rain came down a little harder now. Cooling the air coming in from the window.

  Charlie looked at me. Rising to my knees, I pulled my shirt over my head. I’d ditched my bra and underwear earlier. I felt sexier without them on. I also wanted to drive Charlie a bit mad. The way he drove me mad with his unbuttoned plaid shirts and chest hair and scruff.

  His gaze flicked to my tits. His nostrils flared.

  “Are you listening?” I said, taking them in my hands. I flicked my nipple with my thumb. The one that wasn’t pierced.

  We both drew a sharp breath. I felt that in my clit.

  I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “I am.”

  “Good. Now unzip your pants and touch yourself.”

  I played with my nipples. My sex pulsed. My hips began to roll.

  He tugged down his zipper roughly, then reached inside his jeans and pulled out his dick. As swollen and delicious as I remembered it.

  I began to scoot forward, one knee at a time.

  He ran his hand up and down his cock, stroking it. Thumbing the crease on the underside of the head. A pearlescent bead of pre-cum shone there.

  I licked my lips.

  I put my hands on his knees and spread them apart.

  “Stop,” I said, meeting his eyes. They were a little unfocused now. A little wild.

  He pulled his hand off his dick, holding them both up. Surrendering.

  I reached down and took him in my hand. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, wincing.

  “Jane,” he said.

  A warning.

  “Are you okay?”

  He looked down at me. “I am so not fucking okay. And I’ve never felt better.”

  I grinned. I wanted to make Charlie feel as good as he’d made me feel. Return the favor. Show him my gratitude.

  Holding his girth in my hand, I ducked my head and ran my tongue along the crown of his cock. His cum tasted salty. Like him.

  He bucked his hips, surging against my lips.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry. I just—it’s hard not to lose my fucking mind when you touch me, honey.”

  Honey.

  I looked up. Met his eyes. The reverence I saw there—the pain and the lust—it hit me dead center in the chest. An arrow that arced through me, landing between my legs.

  Right where I wanted it.

  Right where I wanted him.

  “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?” I said. “I’ll stop if you need me to.”

  Charlie nodded. “I’m okay.”

  Gently—carefully—I opened my lips. Pressed the flat of my tongue to his head. He let out a breath—a little pa
nt—and put his hand on top of mine on his knee.

  Slipping my tongue underneath him, I opened my mouth a little wider. Took him in a bit at a time, curling my lips around my teeth so I didn’t catch him. Now his hand was in my hair. Not pressing my head down but caressing my scalp, fingertips trailing lines of poignant sensation in their wake.

  I began to move my head a little more. Taking him all the way in. He hissed when he met with the back of my throat. I pulled back, thrust forward again. His hips were rolling a little now. He groaned. But he didn’t tell me to stop.

  He tasted like Charlie.

  I cupped his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.

  He reached for my breast. I lifted myself a little so he could have it. Need bolted through me when he thumbed my piercing, drawing my nipple to a hard, painful point. I hummed around him.

  “Fuck—Jane—that’s it,” he hissed. “If you keep going…just. Please let me put myself inside you.”

  Desire cracked through me. I was doing this. I was breaking him. Bringing him to the edge.

  It was a powerful feeling.

  I wanted him inside me, too. I was dying for it. Literally throbbing. I wanted him to peel my leggings off and get between my legs. I wanted to feel him, every inch and breath and heartbeat.

  Slowly I pulled back, releasing him. And then he was taking my face in his hands and guiding me up to him. He covered my mouth with his, kissing me hard and well.

  Charlie liked a passionate kiss. He was always doing this—always holding my face like I was precious. Always going after the corners of my being I’d kept hidden.

  I kissed him back. Kissed him hard, closing my eyes. I lost myself in him. Willingly. Heart forward.

  He moaned. He was losing himself too.

  My pulse beat strongly inside my skin. I slipped a hand up his forearm and gripped his wrist. Then I pulled him forward, pulled at him with my hand and my lips. He fell to his knees on the floor. His jeans slipped off his hips. His cock bobbed through the slit in his boxers.

  I pulled back a little. We were both on our knees. His eyes were pleading when they met mine.

  My stomach bottomed out.

  “Your shirt,” I said. “Take it off.”

  Charlie reached down and took the hem of his shirt in his hands. He lifted it up, the muscles in his chest and arms bunching as he tugged it over his head. His skin—the smattering of hair on his chest and belly—he was so beautiful. So big. All shoulders and biceps.

  His eyes found mine again.

  “Now watch me,” I said. I laid back, sitting on the blanket. I lifted my hips and wiggled out of my leggings.

  Charlie’s breathing was uneven as he eyed my tits. My legs.

  Pulling my leggings from my feet, I sat up. Naked.

  Bent my knees to my chest and let them fall apart. I could smell my arousal.

  His gaze caught on my cunt. His nostrils flared once, twice.

  I reached down and drew my first two fingertips over my clit. Circled it. God, I was swollen. Hot. I gasped, my hips already beginning to roll.

  Charlie watched me. His mouth was a tight white line. I got wetter. More swollen.

  “Jane,” he growled, taking his dick in his hand.

  Dropping my middle finger lower, I slipped it inside me. “I want you here.”

  “You can have me.” He gave his dick a hard, quick tug. “All of me. Fucking take it, honey. Let me give it to you.”

  I shook my head, sinking both my fingers inside my sex. “I want to give it to you, Charlie.”

  His eyes flickered with something dark. That sadness. His brow creased.

  “Why?” he whispered. Another tug on his dick.

  I blinked at a rush of warmth behind my eyes.

  “Because you deserve it,” I whispered back, my fingers going still. “You set me free.”

  He let out a pained breath. “Jane—”

  “Condom,” I breathed, my throat suddenly tight. “Fucking now. Charlie—”

  He took another breath, his chest heaving. Then he reached for the box on the other end of the blanket. He fell down beside me, kicking off his jeans and boxers before tearing open the box. Tearing open the foil packet.

  His elbow brushed against my belly as he rolled it onto his length. He winced.

  “Tell me how you want me,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I rolled over to him and swung a leg over his hips, sitting up to straddle him. His eyes went wide. Then his hands stroked up my sides to my breasts. He cupped them. Thumbed my nipples, currents of electricity hitting me right in my clit. I arched into his touch, moaning.

  I spread my legs a little wider and pressed the lips of my sex up against the length of his cock. I slid up and down, up and down. Making Charlie’s mouth fall open.

  I was pulsing. Ready to come. Charlie was playing with my nipples and my clit was hitting him just right.

  Just where I wanted him.

  I lifted my hips. The rug rubbed against my knees through the blanket. “Put yourself inside me.”

  Charlie nodded silently, reaching down to grab his dick. He angled himself at my entrance. I felt the pressure right away, the girth of his head making me gasp.

  He was so fucking hard.

  He looked ready to break. Exactly how I felt.

  My legs shaking, I lowered myself onto him one delicious inch at a time. His eyes were locked on mine. He didn’t push. Didn’t rush. He just let me swallow him. Let me do whatever I wanted with him.

  He trusted me. I trusted me.

  The warmth in my eyes got hotter.

  His hand was on my hip now. Holding but not guiding. Firm but patient.

  I sunk lower. Took him all the way in, to the point of uncomfortable fullness. He groaned.

  “I don’t,” he said, taking a steadying breath. Closing his eyes. “Deserve you.”

  Rolling my hips, I leaned down to kiss him.

  “I say you do,” I whispered against his lips.

  And then I rolled my hips harder. Harder. He sucked a breath through his teeth, both his hands on my hips. I kissed him, my tongue plying his in time to my thrusts. My clit was catching on his groin when I did it this hard.

  I wanted him to come first for once. Every time we’d had sex the other night, he’d made sure I came before him. But I was so close. Need spiraled between my legs. I felt perilously close to the edge. I gritted my teeth, even as I felt my sex tightening around him.

  His brow was still furrowed. Eyes still closed.

  “I feel you,” he said. “Come, Jane.”

  “Not yet.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. I want—” He pinched my nipple between his fingers. I gasped. “Christ, Charlie, I wanted you to go first.”

  “It’s okay, Jane.”

  I closed my eyes. And knew I couldn’t hold on any longer. Not when he filled me like this. Touched me like this. Let me be like this.

  Guiding his hands back to my breasts, Charlie said, “Honey, what do you need?”

  “This,” I said, my voice and my legs and my resolve trembling.

  I reached down and touched myself. Touched my clit, running the pad of my index finger over it once.

  That’s all it took.

  My orgasm hit me, lifting me up on a tidal wave of sensation. I arched my back, rolling my hips as my sex clenched and my vision went blank. It pounded through me, the release, making me tighten around him so hard he cursed.

  Fuck. You’re fucking perfect.

  Everything seemed to come together in that moment, gathering between my legs and inside my chest. Heat and light and blood. An entire universe existed inside this feeling. This was the closest I’d ever let myself be to someone.

  It was overwhelming.

  I came apart beneath the weight of it, crying out. Crying. I lost grip on my control and on my feelings. Everything tumbled down, leaving me exposed. Helpless. So happy I couldn’t breathe.

  “Charlie,” I pleaded, collapsin
g on top of him.

  He curled me into his arms, pressed his lips to my forehead. He didn’t try to comfort me. He just held me, his dick pulsing inside me.

  “I’ll take it from here, okay?” he said softly.

  I nodded against his chest, blinking back tears.

  Charlie sat up, still holding me against him. Still inside me as he sat up, one arm locked around my waist. Still breathing hard as he laid me gently on my back. He slipped out of me, but only for a moment. He settled his weight on top of me, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder.

  And then he was inside me again. Working over me with deep, athletic thrusts that had him panting. Our skin was damp with sweat now. Hot to the touch. He kissed my breasts, my neck. My mouth. He kissed me everywhere, quieting the aftershocks of my orgasm. I was surrounded by him. Safe.

  He was worshipping me. Taking his time. Doing it right.

  He swiveled his hips, hard. One last time.

  He pushed a breath through his nose when he came, going still inside me.

  I was pinned to the ground. A little breathless from the weight of him.

  Eyes still closed, I put my hand on the center of his chest. His heart was going wild. Same as mine.

  I’d had great sex before. But it’d never been like this.

  Never left me so shaken and so sure.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jane

  Charlie canted his hips, slipping out of me with a wince. Kissing my shoulder, he rolled over and carefully took off the condom.

  “I’ll go get cleaned up,” he said, standing.

  I watched him go. Well—really I stared at the milky white perfection of his ass. It was adorable, pert and round and masculine. Blinking, I wiped my eyes.

  My legs were still a bit shaky, so I got up slowly, taking the blanket with me. I wrapped it around my torso. My skin burned from Charlie’s touch. So did my eyes. I felt full to bursting.

  I needed some air. Some space.

  I pushed through the set of doors furthest to the left. The rain was really coming down now. A silvery filter on the world that muted colors but turned up smells. Dirt. Pavement. The perfume of flowers. The gravel on the pathway bit into the soles of my feet. I kept moving. Moving out from under the cover of the pergola into the wide open space of the garden. The rain came down on me, slowly at first, dappling my scalp and skin. I closed my eyes and raised my face to the white sky.

 

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