Chapter Fifteen
Aly
This probably wasn’t a good idea. But I was so freaking tempted to do it anyways.
Rob had picked up on one very important fact: I hadn’t had sex with Philip. I hadn’t had sex, period, since I’d ended things with Rob. I’d masturbated, of course. And as great as those orgasms had been, nothing quite compared to coming apart in a guy’s hands. Coming apart around a guy’s thick, delicious cock.
A cock like Rob’s.
He’d given me the best, most earth shattering orgasms of my life. And now that he was touching me again—now that I was with him, soaking up the city and the stars—I realized just how much I’d missed sex. Especially sex with Rob.
How intense it was. How it hurt in just the right way.
Rob was looking me squarely in the eye, daring me to ask. He wanted it just as much as I did. But the ball was in my court.
I understood why he didn’t press me. I actually respected him for that—the fact that he was holding back. He knew that he wasn’t the kind of guy I was looking for. He knew I wanted the real deal, and he was very much the opposite of that.
I didn’t know why Rob wasn’t into relationships beyond the usual reasons: that he was young. Hot. He liked to have his fun. But now that I was getting to know him, I felt there had to be another reason—a bigger, deeper one—why he was so allergic to commitment.
His blue eyes glowed in the darkness, reflecting the lights of the buildings we passed. He loomed over me, enormous, gentle. Hot. All it would take was one word. One word to turn his gentle caresses into something rougher. Hotter. Even now my knees shook at the memory of his fingers between my legs.
The attraction I felt for him was blinding. Delicious.
Right then, I knew—knew—Philip wasn’t the one. The sudden certainty hit me head on, knocking the breath from my lungs. I’d never felt an ounce of this intensity for him, sexual or otherwise. I’d felt this intensity from the beginning with Rob. And it had only seemed to grow the more I got to know him. But with Philip, my feelings had started at lukewarm and never moved from there. The needle was stuck at E—empty. I couldn’t move that needle through sheer force of will. Couldn’t force an attraction that wasn’t there. Lord knew I’d tried.
Rob was right. I was settling, and so was Philip. It wasn’t fair to either of us. He deserved better. We both deserved to truly cherish someone and be cherished in return.
We deserved to be desired, the way I desired Rob right now. With every fiber of my being.
I knew sex was the only thing on offer tonight. But that’s all I wanted. I wanted to touch and be touched and come so hard I screamed. It had only been, what, a month or two since Rob and I had last hooked up? It’d felt like an eternity.
One more time. We could do this one more time. It was meaningless before, and it would be meaningless now. And then tomorrow I’d go back to my life. I’d tell Philip how I really felt, and I’d start my search for the real deal all over again.
But tonight, I’d get lost in Rob. One more time.
“Is there a bathroom on board?” I murmured.
Rob’s eyes sparked. “No bathroom this time. Let’s go to my place.”
“Your place?” I blinked.
He leaned down, nudging my jaw with his nose. “Yes. I insist.”
His lips brushed against my neck as he spoke. I sucked in a breath, my eyes squeezing shut. That hurt. That felt so good it fucking hurt.
“Same rules,” I breathed.
“Whatever you want.” He straightened. “I’ll tell the captain we’re cutting our trip short.”
Neither of us said a word on the short ride to Primrose Palace.
My heart was pounding. My body throbbed. I wanted this. So freaking badly.
The air inside the car crackled with anticipation. Electricity. Rob slipped his hand around my thigh, gently pressing his fingertips into the ridge of muscle on the side of my leg. His grip was firm. Possessive.
A rush of sensation bolted through my core. I sucked in a breath. I was the kind of turned on that was almost uncomfortable. Hot and wet and tight.
I felt Rob’s eyes on me. His hand crept north on my leg. I knew if his knuckle so much as brushed my clit, I’d come. I caught him by the wrist, looking down at our hands.
“Robert,” I whispered.
I’d never called him that before. I don’t know where it came from.
“Say it again,” he said. His voice was growly but quiet.
“What?”
“My name.”
I glanced at the driver. He was wearing an earpiece. Maybe he didn’t hear us.
So what if he did?
“Robert.” I turned my head to look at him. My heart dipped at the look in his eyes. The intensity and the heat and the blaring, unapologetic lust.
We barreled through the gates of the palace. The driver brought us to a small cottage near the edge of the grounds. It looked like a converted garage or carriage house. It was adorable, homey. A gas lantern flickered over the front door.
Not at all what I pictured for Rob.
He held out his hand and helped me out of the car. Thanking the driver, he dug a set of keys out of his jacket pocket. I watched him open the door, transfixed by slopes and sinews of his neck. The tiny dark hairs that trailed down his nape. The perfect curved shell of his ear.
He was so beautiful. How had I never noticed that before? I’d devoured his hotness, of course. I’d been drunk on the size of his dick. But I’d never seen him like this before.
Rob held open the door for me. I stepped inside a dark foyer.
The first thing I noticed was the familiar smell. It smelled like Rob. That mix of sexy cologne and boy.
I bit my lip. I loved that smell.
I turned at the sound of the door closing behind me. Rob’s head was bent. He looked up, those dashing blue eyes of his finding mine in the darkness.
A beat of charged silence passed between us. Jesus, this guy. This gorgeous guy was mine for one more night.
We stepped into each other at the same time. My hands went to his jacket and his went to mine and then we were peeling each others’ coats off, our breaths ragged and our arms tangling as we dropped them to the floor. I curled a hand around his neck and pulled him to me, digging my teeth into the corner of his jaw.
He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me gently against him. Lust speared me right between the legs. I rolled my pelvis into him, fisting his shirt in my hand. Could I come just from this? From dry humping him like a teenager?
I could. I probably fucking could.
“Bedroom,” Rob growled. He grabbed my legs and lifted me, curling my legs around his hips. He held me easily, breathing even. Like I weighed nothing.
I didn’t protest, but my heart did skip a beat. I’d assumed we’d fuck against a door, on the kitchen counter like our first time. Maybe on the floor.
Never on the bed. His bed. In his house. It was a bit of a departure from a public restroom.
More than a bit.
His teeth were on my ear now, biting down on the lobe. Then my neck. My chin. He’d been stubbly last time we hooked up. Tonight his face was smooth. Just the tiniest hint of a five o’clock shadow. I reached up and curled my hand around his jaw. I liked the feel of it. His skin. His heat.
I was so turned on I wanted to die.
The second we hit the bedroom, he set me down. His hands raked up my thighs and gathered the hem of my dress in their grip. He began working it over my hips.
“Wait,” I managed, motioning to my back. “There’s a zipper.”
His hands moved up to my neck. Found the zipper. He pulled it open slowly, carefully, holding me against him as his fingers trailed a line of fire in their wake down my bare spine.
I shrugged out of the dress, letting it fall to my feet. Toed out of my boots and socks.
Rob’s eyes widened—went fiery—when they took in my matching fuchsia lace bra and underwear. I’d splurged on
some real lingerie earlier today, figuring that if I was going to wear something as special and pretty as an Emilia Wickstead dress, I needed some fabulous underthings to go with it.
“For him?” he asked. That muscle in his jaw was ticking. But this time, he didn’t smirk.
“Does it matter?” I took a breath. “Maybe it’s for me, too.”
“But you wore it to go on a date with him.” He said him like it was a dirty word.
I stepped out of the puddle of my dress and put my palm over Rob’s mouth. “You’re breaking the rules.”
I was trying to be playful, but he didn’t smile. Didn’t crack a dirty joke like he normally would. He just looked at me, his gaze searing. Was he mad? Hurt? I couldn’t tell.
He moved away. Pulling off his sweater, he began to work at the buttons of his Oxford shirt as he flicked on the light. Turned back to me.
His gaze moved hungrily over my body. I reached for him, brushing his fingers aside so I could finish the buttons.
He put his hand on my side, his thumb working a small, slow arc across the skin beside my belly button. The way he was touching me, taking his time—it felt almost reverent.
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said.
My fingers went still. “You’ve seen me naked.”
“I haven’t, Aly. Not this way.”
I knew what he meant. We’d always been so pressed for time, so hungry for a quick, dirty fuck, we’d never taken the time to undress. To get to really know each other’s bodies.
But tonight we were.
All of the sudden we were taking our time. And I didn’t know what to make of it.
I liked it.
Was I even allowed to like it? Was I allowed to be terrified by it, too?
I forced my fingers to start moving again. Two more buttons. Then his fly, his boots, and he’d be naked, and we could do this thing already. We could stop talking and do what we came here to do.
When I was done, Rob rolled back his shoulders, removing the shirt. I watched the muscles bunch and strain against his skin, transfixed by the thick, rounded balls of his shoulders. The vein that snaked down his bicep to disappear into the inside of his elbow. The hardened lines of his chest and stomach.
My longing felt five sizes too big for my body.
He reached for me, and I let him. I let him pull me to him, the press of his warm skin against mine electrifying as he curled me into his arms. He was so solid. And big. The throb between my legs got louder. Hotter.
This felt so…right.
If only Rob was the right guy.
He pressed his mouth to my neck, right where it sloped down into my shoulder. My breath hitched; my head fell to the side. His hands were on my sides, moving up to my breasts. He thumbed my nipples over the lacy material. I arched into his touch, sensation ripping through me, moving in waves from the hardened points of my nipples straight to my core. I dug a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and gave it a tug.
With patient fingers, Rob slipped the straps of my bra off my shoulders. The caress was erotic in its gentleness. Its intent. I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt vulnerable. I curled my body toward him. Curled my shoulders into him.
He reached around and unclasped my bra. He worked it off me, letting it fall to the floor. And then my breasts were in his hands, and I was watching him trail tongue and teeth down my collarbone, my chest. He took my nipple in his mouth, stroking me with his tongue. I bit my lip, pulling harder on his hair, rolling my hips. One of his hands snaked around to my backside. He dug his fingers into the waist of my panties but went no further. The need between my legs got so heavy and so tight I cried out.
Why’d he have to be so damn good at this?
“Now,” I breathed. “Please. Let’s just—I need it, Rob.”
“Patience, Aly. We’ll get there.”
Patience? Who the hell was this guy?
Giving my nipple one last bite, he straightened. Met my gaze as he hovered over me. Surrounded me. I had to bend my neck to keep the eye contact. His eyes were full and dark. Dangerous. They moved to my mouth. His tongue pressed into his lip, the bottom one, and he hesitated.
I was transfixed by the fullness of that lip. The softness.
For half a second, I worried he’d actually do it. I was worried he’d break the rule.
I worried he’d bend down and tilt that handsome head of his and kiss me.
My heart responded to his unspoken question. One hard, decisive beat.
Yes.
Chapter Sixteen
Aly
But he didn’t.
Instead Rob reached down and grabbed my hand, his hand turning with him as he led me to the bed. Swallowing my disappointment—stop, I couldn’t be disappointed, we couldn’t break the rules—I followed him, my eyes raking down the broad expanse of his back.
The bed was enormous, neatly made up in fluffy white linens. He pulled back the covers.
“Get comfortable,” he said. “I’ll go grab some condoms.”
“Just one.”
He smirked, rustling a hand through his hair. “You didn’t come all this way for just one, Aly.”
I shivered. I hated when he was right.
He disappeared into what I assumed was the master bathroom. I climbed into his bed, fighting a feeling of…weirdness, I guess, at being in my fuckboy’s bed. Where he read and slept and dreamed. I wiggled down until I was lying flat, half covered by the comforter.
I could smell him on the pillow. That cologne.
I closed my eyes against a rush of desire.
Glancing around, I noticed how neat the room was. Neat, but lived in. Books were stacked on the nightstand beside heavy silver picture frames. There were pictures of his brothers. His parents. One of Rob looking especially dashing in a uniform, his arm draped casually over his sister’s shoulders.
A pair of glasses rested on the neatly coiled wire of a charger. I didn’t know he wore glasses. Were they just for reading? Or did he have to wear contacts, too?
I looked up to see Rob standing across the room, leaning his shoulder into the bathroom doorway. He was looking at me. His eyes were very blue and different somehow. His brow was the tiniest bit puckered.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self conscious.
He pushed off the frame, giving his head a shake. “Nothing. Just…how you look in my bed...” He shook his head again. “I like how you look naked. That’s all.”
My nipples prickled at his voice. It was an octave lower than usual.
I watched him strut toward the bed. He was shirtless in just his jeans. Jeans that hung low on his chiseled hips. What was it about that v, complete with dark blond happy trail—the one guys had that dipped into their groin—that made it such a mind fuck?
“And I like the way you look in those jeans.”
His lips twitched. Tossing a handful of foil packets onto the other side of the bed, Rob climbed up. Climbed toward me, planting his fists on either side of my arms before he did this athletic rolling dip number to land on top of me. I welcomed him with open legs, and his hips settled against my sex, ducking to press a kiss onto my chest as I wrapped my arms around him.
He settled his weight on me, making me breathless in the best—the best—way.
“Too much?” he murmured against my neck. His lips were hot and slow on my skin. Right then I wished we didn’t have rules. I wanted those lips on my lips. Just the idea of his kiss had my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
“No,” I breathed. “Just right.”
He felt just right on top of me like this. His weight and the way he smelled and the hard angles and planes of his body lined up against the curves of mine.
Rob rolled his hips into me, sliding his hand up my thigh, guiding it up against his side. Splaying me wider. His thumb grazed my nipple, a single, hard flick. He was always so physical with me. Never afraid to touch or push.
The need between my legs throbbed, centering in my clit. I made a de
sperate sound, something between a moan and a plea.
He must’ve picked up on my fraying patience, because he flipped us over, me on top of him. Putting his hands on my sides, he guided me upright so I was straddling his hips.
His erection pressed up into me at this angle. Meeting his eyes, it was my turn to roll my hips. Sensation shot through me, landing in my clit and the tips of my hardened nipples. I pressed a hand into his naked chest, sucking in a breath.
“I’ve got you, Aly,” he said. He slid his first two fingers into the waistband of my underwear. “Let’s get rid of these, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said. I reached up and grasped the headboard, pulling myself up onto my knees. Rob was using both hands to guide the lacy panties down my legs. My sex was screaming. With a bit of awkward maneuvering, we somehow managed to lift one leg, then the other, so I could take the underwear off.
And then, before I could settle back onto his hips, Rob put his hands on the insides of my thighs and spread them wider, lowering me toward his face. My entire being jumped when I realized what he was about to do.
Lifting his neck just a little, he nosed at my slit. My legs wobbled. My eyes snapped shut.
He puckered his lips and kissed my clit. I cried out. He tightened his grip on my thighs.
“You’re okay. You’re okay with me, sweethe—” he stopped himself. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” I said, waving him away without opening my eyes. “Jesus, Rob, don’t you dare stop.”
A rumble of laughter echoed in his chest. “There she is. The boss.”
He parted me with his tongue this time. Back to front, one long, slow, deliberate lick. The first flutters of my impending orgasm ricocheted between my legs, sending a tremor through my whole body, making my knees buckle. I held onto the headboard for dear life.
“Oh my God,” I said. The words came out shaky and high.
“You’re okay,” Rob repeated. And I believed him. I believed I’d be okay as long as he held me like this. I was okay with him. I mean, I wasn’t. Not in any real sense. But in this moment, I chose to trust him.
Royal Rebel: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Flings With Kings) Page 11