Royal Ruin: A Flings With Kings Novel

by Peterson, Jessica

  “So this twat ex of yours tore you apart,” I said. “What can I do to help put you back together?”

  Emily furrowed her brow, her smile fading.

  “Why would you want to do that?” she asked. “That’s not your job.”

  I took my hands out of my pockets. I kept my eyes locked on hers. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I was full to bursting. Full of her. Hurt. Hope.

  “Maybe I want it to be my job,” I said. “Maybe I miss you—the real you. The girl who’s fearless and smart and sexy as hell.”

  Something flickered in her green eyes, making them spark. I waited for her to step back. To tell me to fuck off.

  What the hell was I doing?

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking away as I kicked at an imaginary pebble on the floor. My face burned. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  I looked back up to see Emily staring at me. I couldn’t read her expression. But she didn’t move. Good sign? Bad?

  “Kit,” she said. It was the first time she’d used my first name. Fuck, I liked the sound of it on her lips. “I have a boyfriend.”

  I was already in for a penny. Might as well go for the pound.

  “The dickweed who cheated on you? That boyfriend? I care about you, Emily. And I mean it when I say I want to help you.”

  She blinked. “Help me,” she repeated. Her voice was hoarse again.

  Her eyes flicked to my mouth. They went a little hazy. I could practically see the idea forming in her head.

  The muscles and sinews in my core tightened. Came alive. Energy—a magnetic heat—pooled between us. Did she feel it, too? I knew I was being stupid. But was I mad as well? This fire inside me, stoked by a semester’s worth of exciting conversations and ideas and glances that lasted just a little too long—it burned so bloody hot, I wondered how the hell she’d not feel it.

  “Yes,” I said. “Anything you want.”

  She took a sharp breath. “God, you smell good.”

  “Thanks. I showered today, just for you.”

  She scoffed, biting down on her bottom lip.

  “You can help me forget,” she replied. “Forget him. Forget the hurt.”

  I nodded. “Of course. Just tell me what to do.”

  Emily looked at me for another beat, like she was debating whether or not to say what she was about to.

  “You can fuck me,” she said at last.

  My heart leapt to my throat. I started. “Pardon?”

  “Just this once. Nothing leaves this room, remember?”

  It was my turn to stare. Out of all the things she could’ve said, I was definitely not expecting that. Hoping for it? Fantasizing about it? Yes. But expecting it—hell no.

  My cock leapt at the idea. I’d wanted to put my hands on Emily—really put my hands on her body, get to know it, savor it—for bloody months now.

  It was wrong. But I wanted it. Badly. And now that I knew she wanted it, too…

  “Now or never, Kit.” She swallowed. “Please.”

  My body moved before my mind did. I angled my foot against the chair between us and shoved it aside. Emily’s lips parted at the sound.

  Fuck it. If this is what Emily Kilpatrick wanted, then I’d give it to her.

  I’d make her forget this asshole ex of hers. Maybe then she’d think about me instead.

  I’d make her mine.

  I didn’t hesitate. I stepped into her, pressing my body against hers. This felt so good. So bloody good. My pulse thundered as I cupped her face in my hand. In one smooth, impatient motion, I bent my neck and tilted her head and brought her mouth up to meet mine.

  She drew a breath as I kissed her, rising into my caress.

  I kissed Emily Kilpatrick in the middle of my office like I had nothing to lose.

  It hit me that I didn’t. I’d already lost myself to her a long time ago.

  Chapter Two

  Emily

  I knew the second Kit’s lips met mine that this was the best and worst idea.

  The best idea, because I could already tell Kit knew what he was doing. Three seconds in, and I knew I’d forget Luke. For this afternoon, at least.

  The worst idea, because Kit really knew what he was doing. I surrendered to him, my heart hammering in my chest as the shock and the excitement and the electricity of the moment held me captive. This was going to be dangerously good. What if I couldn’t control myself? My feelings?

  I shoved the thought aside. The request had been stupid, yes. Fuck me. Honestly, who says stuff like that? But it had genuinely seemed like a good idea at the time. I was attracted to Kit. Why not give in, just once?

  And I was desperate to forget Luke. Forget the hurt and the doubt and the longing that haunted me day and night.

  Honestly, I didn’t think Kit would say yes. I’d seen the way he looked at me sometimes in class—with a softness in his eyes, a hint of interest. But I never would’ve guessed he wanted me like this. Weren’t princes exclusively interested in the beautiful offspring of billionaire real estate developers and their Swedish supermodel wives?

  I guessed not.

  Whatever our reasons, this hook up was happening. And I’d be damned if I didn’t enjoy it. Kit’s hand was on my face, tilting my head a little more to deepen the kiss. His mouth was hot and soft. He tasted clean; I picked up on a hint of something herbal, something that tasted like tea.

  God, he was so British.

  And God damn could he kiss. He drank me in, hungry and slow all at once, taking his time as he explored my lips, the corners of my mouth, my tongue. His fingertips tickled the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

  When was the last time someone adored me like this? I hadn’t seen Luke since I’d left the states back in August. I guess I’d forgotten what it felt like to be kissed so well and touched so eagerly.

  The growing heat between my legs throbbed at the idea of peeling his suit off. I bet he looked even better without it on. He had an athletic build, broad shoulders and a trim waist; his body was firm against mine. What princely sports did he have to thank for that? Polo? Shooting? Sailing, maybe?

  I met him stroke for stroke, trying to deepen the kiss even further.

  “Mine,” he growled against my mouth. “You’re mine, Em, and so is this kiss. Let me have you.”

  A shiver moved up my spine. That authoritative edge in his voice just took on a whole new meaning. I liked it.

  I liked it too much.

  “Okay,” I said.

  Even though Luke was the first guy I’d ever slept with, I’d fooled around with a couple of guys before him. They were all either hesitant to the point of annoyance or pushy to the point of making me uncomfortable. None of them had really known what he was doing.

  But Kit. Kit definitely knew what he was doing. He was a man. He knew what he wanted, and he took it. I’d never experienced anything like him before.

  It was incredibly arousing.

  He tugged at my bottom lip. Then he trailed his mouth down to my neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin there. I gasped as a wave of potent desire shot through me, goose bumps popping up on my arms and legs in its wake.

  I was getting wet. Really, really wet. My clit throbbed.

  My arms, still crossed, had been trapped between Kit and I. I uncrossed them, rotating my hands so they rested on his chest. I curled the lapels of his jacket in my fingers, gliding my thumbs over the silky fabric. Then I slipped one hand inside and put my palm on his shirt. The heat of his skin seeped through.

  His heart was going wild.

  Kit groaned, his breath hot on my neck.

  “Get on the desk,” he said, and then he pulled away. Air, cold and unwelcome, rushed into the space where his body had just been. He towered over me, breathing hard.

  I looked up at him. His blue eyes met mine. They were a little unfocused.

  Hungry.

  He hooked a finger into the knot of his tie and gave it a vicious tug.

/>   My knees wobbled. He looked so fucking hot right then. The eyes, the shoulders, the tie—he was all coiled masculinity, seething with need and determination.

  I didn’t know what he’d do next, or if—when—his control would snap. The idea that he could lose his shit at any moment scared me.

  It turned me on to no end.

  Now Kit was ripping the tie through its knot, the scrape of the silk loud between us.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes and swallowed. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded. I wasn’t all right. Not by a mile.

  I was overwhelmed. I needed him to touch me. Fuck me. Turn me inside out. His kiss had cleared my thoughts. I was all physical sensation. I was out of my head, and I didn’t want to go back there.

  I didn’t want him to stop.

  “Where do you want me on the desk?” I asked.

  Kit nodded at the hulking mass of dull metal and wood. “Sit on the edge.”

  Kit quietly locked the door while I cleared a spot on the desk and sat. I watched as he opened his bag and dug out a foil packet, slipping it into his pocket.

  The need between my legs tightened.

  He turned and made his way toward me. I watched, heart in my throat, as he rolled back his shoulders and took off his jacket.

  It struck me that I’d never seen Kit without his jacket on. In class, he was always put together—never a hair out of place. He took his job seriously. We’d talked endlessly about his plans for his parents’ foundation, and how he hoped to put the ideas we’d come up with into action when he took over.

  He looked good in just his white button-up shirt and slacks. I didn’t know where to look first. The rounded muscles of his shoulders and arms. Or the way his chest filled out his shirt. With long, patient fingers, he unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled them up, revealing deliciously thick forearms.

  He had a very obvious hard-on.

  I sat up straighter, rolling my clit against the seam of my jeans.

  Kit put his hands on my thighs and pushed them apart, stepping between them. He trailed his hands up to where my legs met. Then he pressed his thumbs against my heat. Immediately I arched against him, wanting more.

  “These are coming off,” he said. His voice was rough.

  His fingers moved to my fly, making quick, careful work of the button and zipper.

  “Lift your hips.”

  I obeyed, toeing off my boots as Kit slid my jeans down my legs. Tossing them to the floor, he stepped between my legs again. He reached down and tugged my thong aside. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, whimpering.

  “Please,” I said.

  I watched as he slid his middle finger between my lips, hitting my clit right away. My eyes snapped shut; I drew a sharp breath between my teeth.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” he growled. “Jesus Christ.”

  I grabbed onto him, fisting his shirt in my hand. “Kit, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on.”

  My eyes were still closed, but he swallowed loudly enough for me to hear it. The air around us tightened. For a second I wondered if this was the moment—if his control was slipping.

  I wanted him to slip. I wanted to be the one to push him to that point. I wanted to turn the perfect prince into an animal. Maybe then he’d tear me to pieces, and there wouldn’t be enough of me left to go back to my heartbreak.

  Kit took a deep breath through his nose. Let it out.

  Then he slipped another finger between my legs. He sunk one of them—the middle, I think—into me, while he played with my clit with the other.

  I rolled my hips against his hand, seeing stars behind my closed eyelids. Kit put his hand on my hip, holding me in place. Holding me against him.

  The smell of his skin was driving me crazy.

  His fingers were getting tangled in my thong.

  “Fuck this,” he said, and ripped it in two.

  I grit my teeth. I was going to come. I needed to come so badly it hurt.

  “Kit,” I pleaded.

  “That hurt? Shit, I’m sorry—”

  “No.” I shook my head against his shoulder. “I’m close.”

  He sunk both fingers into me. “I can feel it. I’ve got you, Em. Go.”

  His other hand moved to my ankle. He lifted my foot and put it on the edge of the desk, spreading me wide. It was hot. Dirty. I felt myself stretching, pulsing.

  He flicked his thumb over my clit.

  I cried out.

  I came.

  Pulses of heat and light and sweetness tore through me. I fell into Kit, fell into his broad chest, and muffled my cries in his shirt.

  “Keep going,” he said, leaving his fingers inside me as I pulsed around them.

  My legs shook; my heart pounded. I gasped for breath as the waves kept coming, pulling me under, drowning me in such exquisite release that for a second I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.

  Kit looped an arm around my middle and held me against him, my knee curled to his chest. It terrified me, how safe I felt in his arms. How fucking fast he made me come.

  It had never been like this with Luke. Ever.

  But then again, this was insane. Maybe that’s what made it so good—the danger of it.

  The fact that we only had this moment before we walked away.

  Chapter Three

  Kit

  Something loosened in my chest as I watched Emily come. Her cunt was small and sweet, the echoes of her orgasm still pulsing around my fingers. She held nothing back; she didn’t play games, and she didn’t pay me empty compliments. I knew Emily wasn’t exaggerating when she’d said she’d never been so turned on. She was honest to a fault, and open, and she trusted me despite what that wanker of a boyfriend had done to her.

  I wanted Emily. Badly. My entire being ached with it. This quick, lewd encounter in my office wasn’t going to quench that want.

  If anything, it was only stoking it to new heights. I’d enjoyed Emily’s mind and her creativity for months. Now I was enjoying her body.

  I wanted both—her mind and her body. She was making a greedy man of me. I wanted all of her, every thought and smile and sigh. I’d met enough people to know women like Emily didn’t come around that often. In fact, they didn’t come around at all in my corner of the world.

  Hope flickered inside my chest. Was I an idiot to even consider the possibility we could be together? The semester was almost done, which meant I wouldn’t be Emily’s TA anymore. I knew she was studying abroad for a full year, too, so she’d be coming back in the spring. And it sounded like things might really be over with this boyfriend of hers.

  Bloody hell, could I actually have her? Could I make this thing—whatever it was—work? I didn’t know how I’d do it. But I knew I wanted to do it with her.

  I knew I’d never felt the things I was feeling for anyone else.

  My dick strained painfully against my trousers. Emily lifted her head from my shoulder and looked up at me. My heart rose. The tears were gone. Her cheeks were flushed; her lips were swollen.

  I saw a glimpse of the Emily I adored. I was doing it—I was putting her back together.

  I brushed my lips against hers. “Lift up your arms, love.”

  She did as she was told. I lifted her jumper over her head and dropped it on the desk beside her. My mouth went dry when my eyes fell on her bra—black, lacy—and the clean, milky white skin of her belly. I just stared, and kept staring, reaching out to run my palm up her bare side. Her body was beautiful. Soft. Curvy and warm and vulnerable.

  I felt a rush of protectiveness. No one was going to hurt Em. Not while she was with me.

  I slid my hand to her breast, cupping it. I met her eyes. She arched into my hand, and her lips fell open when I dipped my fingers inside her bra. Her nipple pebbled against my fingertips.

  Her eyes still latched onto mine, Emily reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the side.

  I looked down. Her tit
s were perfect, high and full and firm. Her nipples were the same shade of pink as her lips.

  I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my hands around her ribs and flicked my thumbs over them. Her breasts pressed eagerly against my palms.

  “Kit,” she gasped.

  “My trousers,” I said. “Unbuckle my belt.”

  My cock swelled as her fingers slipped into the waistband of my trousers. Her touch was impatient; she made quick work of my belt and fly. I grit my teeth when she reached inside my knickers and pulled out my dick.

  * * *

  Emily

  It was all I could do not to stare.

  His dick jutted out from his hips at a deliciously obscene angle, hard and proud and perfectly sized. Not too big, not too small, just on the large side of right. I wrapped my hand around him, gliding my thumb over the slick, sensitive head.

  I looked up to see a muscle in his jaw ticking. His nostrils flared as I tightened my grip and brought it up, down, up again.

  He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the condom. He stepped closer, the tip of his dick pressing against my belly. I reached for the packet.

  “I can—”

  “No,” he replied, ripping open the condom and rolling it onto himself in quick, short strokes. “I’ll come if you keep touching me.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Kit was on the edge, too, and it was a thrill to know I’d brought him there.

  He put his hands on my knees, pushing them wider. His fingers parted me, and he guided himself to my center. He waited there for half a beat, sucking a breath through his nose.

  “Don’t stop,” I said. Begged.

  He wrapped an arm around me. “I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

  And then he pulled me to him and bucked his hips and slammed inside me, burying himself to the hilt.

  I cried out; he grunted; he kissed me, a deep, thorough kiss.

  He stayed put for a moment, letting me adjust to the feel of him. It had been a while since I’d had sex last, so the pleasure of having him inside me was edged with the tiniest bit of pain. But with each heartbeat, I relaxed, and the pain morphed into the sweetest sense of fullness I’d ever felt.