Royal Rebel: A Royal Romance (The Haldonia Monarchy Book 1)

by Laramie Briscoe

  A chuckle escapes his pouty lips. I watch as he takes his dessert fork, digging into the cake part, scooping it up with a tiny bit of ice cream and chocolate sauce. "Open wide." He holds it up. I do as he says, and when I take a bite, it's the richest cake I've ever had. I can't escape the moan that breaks apart from my throat. It's that damn good.

  He leans in, his lips so close to my ear, I can feel them disturbing small strands of hair. "Dammit Lia, don't moan like that. I can't get through the rest of this if I'm hard as a rock."

  "It’s so good." I close my eyes, savoring the next bite he gives me. “The way the heat and the coolness mix together.” I lick my lips. “Reminds me of other things.”

  After seeing Callum tonight and relieving what he put me through, I need this with Tristan. I need to take hold of my own sexuality and express it any way I want to. He allows me to be open, always up for whatever I want to do. Then way he looks at me, I think he gets that I need this. He doesn’t try and temper my answers or his response to me. It’s heady, and everything I need.

  "This wasn't supposed to give me a hard-on," he growls.

  A smirk plays against my lips. "Maybe it wasn't supposed to, but I'm happy it did."

  "You're evil." He puts down the fork, picking his scotch back up and taking another drink. No more sipping from my man, now he’s half-way downing the tumbler. I’m proud I’ve been able to affect him this way. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

  A quick glance to make sure that everyone is preoccupied with what’s going on at their table, and I reach down to palm his hard cock in my hand. "Oh, I think I have some idea."

  He chokes slightly on his scotch. Not enough so that anyone really pays attention. He mumbles softly. Jesus Christ. Before he clears his throat, looking at me straight on with flaming eyes. His voice is even deeper than it was earlier when he asks.

  "You sure you wanna do that?"

  His eyes darken even further, full of life and fire. I love this look on him, love the fact that I'm the one who brings it out.

  "I'm completely sure," I whisper. Because I’m taking this in my own hands, so to speak. He doesn’t direct me in everything we do, I can be sexual with him and not be ashamed at the way he makes me feel. He lets me be who I am, and who I am with him is completely different than I thought I was.

  "You just wait until I get you in back in the limo." It’s a promise I hope he keeps.

  "Promises, promises."

  A grin transforms his face. "We'll see what you're saying when that mouth of yours is full of me."

  Squeezing my thighs together, I think about what he's saying and I can't eat anything else, all I want is him, and it can't come quick enough for me. "Can we leave yet?"

  "As much as I would like to, we have to make one more round of the tables."

  "Then let's do it fast so we can get out of here?"

  He kisses my cheek. "I like the way you think."

  His outstretched hand grabs hold of mine and as he pulls me from table to table, I smirk knowing our secret.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tristan

  Getting Amelia back into our limo happens at just the right time. We’ve been teasing each other off and on since she moaned, but this is it. We’re finally alone. I help her step into the back, turning around to wave at the public before I scoot in next to her.

  “Straight to the house?” the driver asks. Parker sits next to him, and I know there are enough members of our security team around, we’re safe on the thirty-minute drive.

  “Sounds good,” I answer smoothly. “We’d like some privacy, please.”

  The privacy window goes up, separating us from the front seat, and prying eyes of the other people in the limo with us.

  “Tris,” Amelia gasps slightly. “Really?”

  Turning to her, I pull her hand to the crotch of my tuxedo pants. “Does this feel like I’m playing around.”

  Her eyes dilate, her mouth opens slightly as her palm curls around my length. “Feels like you’re playing with a full deck.” She licks her lips, smirking slightly.

  “I’ve waited too long,” I whisper, grabbing her hand in mine, pulling her across the bench seat of the limo, “to have you in my arms. All night, this is exactly what I’ve wanted.”

  Her thighs straddle mine, and her breath catches as my cock punches up into her core through our clothing. “Me too,” she whispers, closing her eyes slowly, licking her lips again with the same speed.

  It’s like we’re in this slow-mo dream sequence in a movie. She reaches behind her, taking her hair down. The length goes down her back, curling around her body. It’s enough to shroud us in privacy, as she leans forward. Goddamn the fragrant shampoo she uses encompasses us in a hazy cloud of arousal. From now until the end of my days this scent will turn me on. Now that her hair is down, her fingers slide up under my jacket, shrugging it off my shoulders.

  “You look hot like this,” she says before swallowing hard. Her pulse throbs at her throat, showing just how excited she is. “The beard on your face, the bluish-black stains under your eyes, your muscles straining against a tuxedo shirt, your cock straining against the pants.” She grinds down slightly on me.

  Tilting my head back on a groan, I take my hands from her hips, running them up her stomach and cupping her breasts through the material of her dress. They move up, sneaking beneath the fabric, teasing the nipples pulled tightly against her skin. It’s then that I lean forward in the seat, taking her lips with mine. The kiss is out of control from the moment our tongues touch.

  It’s a fast and furious fuck of two people who’ve been under tremendous amounts of stress and all they want is to feel one another. My hands work their way up her body, tangling in the soft fall of her curls. Her fingers tangle in my shirt, pulling at the material. I feel it clear the waistband of my pants, and even that small change in touch is enough to make my cock jump, make me want even more of what I know she can give me.

  Pulling back, I open my eyes, lifting them slightly so we’re looking into one another’s gaze. Her eyes are dark, dilated and full of arousal. “You look hot like this,” I whisper, pressing up into her heat. “Your hair down around your shoulders, your lipstick smeared against your lips, your nipples straining against the fabric of your dress.”

  She makes a noise deep in her throat, coming back in for another meeting of flesh. It’s not the flesh I want to meet, but as she grinds against me, I’ll take whatever I can get. There’s something primal about arousing her. I live for it, love it, and promise to do it as often as possible.

  Her lips go to work on my neck, sucking, kissing, biting at whatever flesh she can get hold of. With trembling hands, I work the fabric of her dress up from the back, holding it around her waist with one hand. With the other hand, I sneak a finger into her pussy from behind, groaning against her shoulder at the moisture coating my skin.

  “Lia, you’re so wet.”

  She moans against my neck, working around to my throat. Her mouth sucks hard, her tip nip sharply as she lets go of the skin. It’s sexy as hell when she’s in control of the situation. “It’s because you’re so hot.”

  Now, I’m a man on a mission. I want to feel her come apart against me, I ache to have to quieten her moans of completion against my flesh. From behind I start a rhythm of moving my middle finger in and out of her body, tapping against her clit on the way in.

  “Right there,” she breathes against me. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”

  An army would have to tear me away from her. There’s something about her coming completely apart in my arms. It makes me feel like the baddest bastard on the block.

  “Faster?” I whisper as I feel her hips start to thrust quicker.

  “Yeah.” She nips at my neck again. Her voice whining as she’s striving toward what she wants.

  “Yeah?”

  She nods, her fingers tightening against my shoulders. I continue my rhythm until I feel her body start to tighten. Then I pu
ll my finger out, grasping her around the hips. Turning to the side, I lay her down on the leather of the seat, getting up on my knees, and burying my head between her thighs.

  “Tris,” she gasps.

  Tangling one of her hands with mine, I use her hand to cover her mouth. “Silence, my Queen,” I command.

  Moving the lace hiding her mound from me, I dive in, using the tip of my tongue to tease her flesh. Her moans are barely hidden against the palm of her hand as I press harder, using one of my fingers to rub against her clit while my tongue bathes her slit. Not able to stand it any longer, I reach down, unbuttoning my pants, fishing my cock out from behind the material of my boxer briefs. As I go down on her, I jack myself. Relishing the feel of relief. I’ve been hard too long without pleasure, and damned if this doesn’t feel like a whole lot of pleasure.

  “Fuck,” I mumble against her flesh.

  I’m leaking, totally wet against the leather of the seat, and it feels good as I bump my hips back and forth, needing some sort of touch against my length. Her thighs tighten around my head and she grabs my hair with her free hand, pulling it deeper and tighter against her. My ears are ringing, not sure of what’s going on around us, all I can do is experience my soon-to-be wife. Her taste, smell, the feel of her skin against mine.

  My name is muffled against her palm, and I can tell by the way she’s pumping up against me, she’s close. Her body is pulled tight, she’s straining, going after what she wants. I love this moment when she’s almost there, and not afraid to be the one to orchestrate what she needs.

  Pulling back, I look up into her eyes. “Come for me, I want to feel it, want to hear it as much as I can. Come for me.

  Her eyes darken before she tilts her head back, giving me complete control over her. For long minutes I feast, fucking refill my well with her. All the shit bothering me over the past few weeks goes away as I’m licking up and down her clit, as I’m feeling her pull against my hair. It’s a cleansing of all the shit I have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

  Knowing she’s close, I jack my cock harder, faster, and rougher. There’s no finesse, no being gentle. No, I like the roughness I’m handling my flesh with. There’s no time for soft touches and even softer words. I want to come. When she blows, I want to blow too. It’s been too long. There are no words as we strain against one another, each of us going after our pleasure.

  I’m the luckiest man in the world, who would have thought and arranged relationship would have this much passion in it? I’ve never had this much passion with anyone, and I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life with her.

  Her thighs tighten even harder against my head, her whole body tightening as I feel her release. She’s moaning against her hand, and later on, I’ll be surprised if the two up front don’t hear it. At the same time, I’m feeling a tightening in my spine, a euphoria in my head. Lifting up on my knees, I pull my boxer briefs in front of my cock just in time for the material to catch my load.

  “Tris,” she purrs as she watches this, her hand coming to the front, touching me through the material. Just the touch alone is enough to coax another spurt from my length.

  I’m gasping like I just ran a marathon, and so is she.

  “We need a bed,” she giggles.

  “And a shower,” I chuckle along with her.

  “This isn’t over?”

  I reach up to her mouth, tracing the one I had inside her around her lips. She opens, sucking me inside, twirling her tongue around. “Nope,” I groan as she nips at the skin. “Not by a long shot.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Amelia

  Tristan breathes heavily, humming loudly. “We’re almost back to the house, we better prepare to get presentable.”

  Somehow I forgot there were other people with us. Like he normally does, Tristan got my attention focused completely on him. Which I needed. Seeing Callum tonight wasn’t part of my plan, and if Tristan had let me, I would have thought about it for the rest of the evening.

  It’s one of the bad habits I have. Letting one thing ruin my entire day. Possibly days. Thank God Tris didn’t let me do it this time. As much as I make him smile, he does the same for me. Maybe even more.

  The limo comes to a stop as I’m trying to push my hair back up into its clip. Tristan is doing his best to button my dress, making sure no one besides him gets an eye-full.

  “Tristan,” I giggle, my body heating up, probably covered with a blush the likes of which none of them have ever seen. “I can’t believe we did this here.”

  “Never done it before.” He wipes as his lips. “You’re a bad influence, Lia.”

  Somehow I don’t believe that.

  We’re more likely a bad influence on each other.

  As I exit, I don’t meet Parker’s eyes. It’s not that I’m totally embarrassed about what happened. I’m also shy about sharing how I like to behave with Tristan. He makes me feel like a lovesick teenager, and it’s just not something I’m used to. I’m ninety percent positive both of the men in the front seat knew exactly what we were doing.

  “Thank you, Parker.” Tristan relieves him as we enter our home. “Your presence isn’t required for the rest of the evening.”

  Parker nods, bows slightly and then takes off for his room.

  “You basically just told him we were going to go screw,” I groan as I lean my head against Tristan’s chest.

  “Screw?” He snorts. “My Queen, Royalty doesn’t use the word screw,” he laughs. “Besides. Trust me, he knows what we did in the backseat. His job is to be discrete, and I have no doubt he is.”

  I squeal when Tristan picks me up, carrying me up the stairs toward our room. “You’re so strong.” I grab hold of his shoulders.

  “Go ahead, tell me more things that’ll blow up my ego.”

  Giving him a saucy grin, I lean in to his ear, grabbing the lobe between my teeth. I let it go, and then say in my sexiest voice. “I’d love to blow up more than your ego.”

  He growls, deep in his throat, it’s the one I love. It travels all over my body, down my arms up and up my chest. Outside the door, he allows my feet to touch the ground. With a smirk, he looks down at me, pressing me up against the hardness of the wood.

  “What?” The smirk is something I’ve never seen before.

  Tilting his head to the side, he moves in slightly. “You’re beautiful, Lia.”

  The heat spreads across my cheeks, I can feel it warming them, making the skin go red. “Thank you.”

  “No.” He shakes his head taking a breath. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  His hands slap against my ears, boxing me in. I don’t want to run though; I want to melt into him.

  “For being here,” he whispers. “I know you’ve been groomed for this since you were a teenager, but we both know you could have said no. It would have caused issues, but you could have refused.”

  “You could have said no too,” I remind him.

  The implication hangs between us. We didn’t want to say no, we both wanted to see where this goes between us. Leaning forward, he presses his lips against mine, before pushing off the door.

  “C’mon.” He grins.

  My hand goes into his as we slink into our room.

  This is our haven, has been, and I assume it always will be. Here we can be who we really are. There are no expectations other than our own. He pulls me into the bathroom, where the lights are low and romantic. We don’t speak with our voices. Our eyes do the talking as they meet at different intervals.

  My gaze follows his as he reaches into the shower, cranking up the main jet, along with the ones running down the sides. Once he tests the temperature, making sure it’s to his liking. A slow smile spreads across his face as he approaches me. My eyes meet his and I see it.

  The passion. The desire. The love.

  It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.

  And I had absolutely no idea I’d get it with an arranged marriage.
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  Tristan

  She’s gorgeous as she bites her lip when I approach. There’s something about the way she becomes coy, almost shy when I let her see exactly how much I want her. Slowly I take first her clothes off and then mine. Still, neither one of us speak.

  I can’t help it now, though. “I didn’t expect you,” I whisper, hoping not to disturb the almost dream-like quality of this room.

  “Expect me?” she questions, her eyes running up and down my body.

  “There were so many things I expected when I knew I hadn’t picked a wife. I thought I’d get someone who didn’t want to be my friend. Someone who wouldn’t enjoy pleasures of the flesh,” I smirk, following the edge of her collarbone with the tip of my finger.

  I run it down completely until our palms meet, our fingers clasping.

  “I enjoy the pleasures of your flesh.” She smirks right back at me.

  Pulling her into the shower, I run my hands through her hair. The dark locks flow like a river across her shoulders and down her back. I take great pleasure in the way she lets me wash them. The liberties she lets me take as she tilts her head this way and that so I can get all the shampoo out.

  “There are so many women who could have been picked for me, Lia. I have to think you were picked for a reason. No matter the things my father has done wrong, this is the one thing he did right.”

  I’m half-scared to say the words to her. It gives her power over me, a power no one has ever had. It’s my greatest fear, handing my heart to someone who can crush it. Having already had it crushed once before has made me skittish. So I’ve held on tight, doing my best not to put myself into a situation where I’d have to answer the question - why won’t you give me yourself, Tristan?