Royal Rebel: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Flings With Kings)

by Jessica Peterson

  I rocked my hips one last time, hitting her just where she liked it. Oh, Christ, I was going to come—

  Pulling out of her, I winced, crying out when the orgasm hit me. I came on her stomach, growling with each hot spurt of cum. I hovered over her, eyes squeezed shut, and breathed in the scent of her pussy.

  She was shaking, little tremors in her legs and arms.

  I opened my eyes. Hers were shut. Her chest rose and fell. Her brow was furrowed, like she was in pain.

  I swiped the cum off her stomach with my thumb.

  I wanted to say something. I had dozens of lines ready for this moment. But I would’ve rather had a picture of my bare arse plastered across the tabloids tomorrow than use any of those lines with Aly.

  She opened her eyes. They were full. A little wet. My heart twisted. She was scared, too. Scared out of her bloody mind. I had to reassure her. Let her know she was safe with me.

  “We’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” I said softly. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I won’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

  Her eyes met mine. “You sure that’s a promise you can make?”

  “You know how I feel about promises,” I replied, brushing my lips against hers.

  Lips that moved into a smile. She reached up and dug her fingers into my hair. I looked down at her, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. God damn was she beautiful. Her body, yes. But also her vulnerability. She was opening herself up to me. Taking a chance.

  I could not fuck this up.

  A rush of heat to my groin. Fingers moving lightly over my chest.

  I let out a breath, suddenly awake. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I saw that it was still dark. I was in my stateroom.

  Aly was lying next to me. She was awake, too. Her eyes shone in the darkness. Her hair was all over the place, trailing over her bare shoulders and chest. The room smelled like sex. Sex and her perfume.

  My heart felt three sizes too big for my body. So did my dick.

  Wordlessly Aly moved beneath the sheet. Before I knew what she was about, she was leaning down and pressing a kiss onto the head of my cock. I groaned. She swirled her tongue around it, hot and soft, wrapping her hand around my root.

  I pushed the sheets back. Slid my hand gently into her hair. The light from the window caught on the smooth lines of her back as she began to bob up and down, taking me into her mouth a little deeper each time. Her hand tightened around me. I bucked my hips, guiding myself into her grip. Her mouth.

  I gritted my teeth. My cock was sore from the half dozen times I’d been inside Aly’s tight little cunt tonight.

  Wouldn’t stop me from making it a solid dozen if she was up for it.

  Her lips slid over me. I fisted my hand in her hair when my head met with the soft tissue at the back of her throat. I was rolling my hips now, slow and lazy, my eyes fluttering shut. It was quiet in the room, calm, save for the breaths Aly took and the ones I let out. Like we were one body.

  Sensation tightened my balls. My spine straightened.

  I put my hand on her face and looked down at her. “Aly. Come up, love.”

  Meeting my eyes, she gave my cock one last long, lingering suck that had me seeing stars. Then she climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. I held my cock in my hand, positioning myself at her center. Putting my other hand on her hip, I guided her down onto me, hissing as I sunk to the hilt inside her.

  Being inside her bare like this felt so fucking good.

  Aly put her hand on my chest. I put my hands on her tits, thumbing her nipples. She began to move, sweet, steady strokes. I slid one hand down her belly and touched her right where her lips were spread wide around my dick. I fingered her clit. She moaned, closing her eyes.

  We were half asleep. A little slow.

  It was lovely.

  She came first, her pussy tightening around me. Half a heartbeat later I joined her. I came inside her soft, wet heat. She collapsed on top of me, and I held her there, still inside her, her heart beating against my chest.

  I ran my hand down her back. She burrowed into me. I could’ve stayed there forever. But I already felt my cum seeping out of her; I needed to clean her up.

  Pulling the covers back over her, I guided us onto our sides. Then I slid out of bed and crept to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth.

  I ran it between her legs. She sucked a breath through her teeth.

  “Sore?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah. It’s okay. I just—I can’t stop, Robert.” She laughed. “I’m addicted to you.”

  “The feeling is mutual, believe me,” I said. I pressed the washcloth a bit more firmly against her. “Does that help?”

  “Yeah,” she panted. “Although it’s turning me on again.”

  Truth be told, it was turning me on, too. But we were both sore, and it was really fucking late. Best if we got some rest before we started again.

  Climbing into the bed, I curled myself around Aly’s body, the big spoon to her little one.

  I fell asleep with my lips pressed to the nape of her neck, the familiar taste of her skin in my mouth.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aly

  I was getting out of the shower the next day—Rob usually joined me, but today he was riding jet skis with Kit—when Emily burst into my bathroom. She was carrying a plastic bag and a gigantic bottle of water.

  I glanced down at my bare chest. “Good thing you’ve seen my boobs before.”

  “Sorry. Sorry, I meant to knock, but I…I spaced I guess.”

  Looking back up, my stomach clenched. Em looked bewildered, for lack of a better word. Bewildered and a little pale.

  Something was up.

  “Hey.” I wrapped a towel around my chest and moved to stand beside her in front of the sink. “Everything okay? Is your hangover killing you?”

  Em set the plastic bag on the counter and twisted the cap off the water.

  “Aly”—she took a long, hard gulp—“I think I really might be pregnant.”

  My stomach clenched again, harder this time. I stared at her. I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d told me she was running off with the Spice Girls to be their sixth wheel. She’d be Posh Spice the Second. Just not quite as tan as Victoria Beckham.

  “But I thought you said you were fine?” I sputtered.

  “I thought so, too. But I’ve tried everything, and this damned nausea won’t go away. And I still haven’t gotten my period. I’m two days late now.”

  “How?” I was still sputtering. “I thought you guys were careful?”

  She blew out a breath. “The usual way, I guess. We have been careful. But now that I think about it, I’ve forgotten to take my pill once or twice. I’ve just been so insane with all the wedding stuff…it slipped my mind.” Her eyes watered. “I always doubled up the next day, like you’re supposed to. Still. Maybe that was enough to…you know, mess things up.”

  My heart had begun to pound. She put her hands on the edge of the vanity and leaned into them. I drew my hand across her back.

  She nodded at the bag. “I bought some tests. Will you help me take them?”

  I grabbed the bag and looked inside. Sure enough, there were a handful of pregnancy tests, plus a bottle of Pepto Bismol.

  “I highly doubt you are pregnant, Em. Maybe your period is late because you’ve been exceptionally stressed. It’s only one day,” I said, not sure I even believed the words as they came out of my mouth. “But I feel like taking some of these might ease your mind. Let’s do it.”

  Em knocked back the water and gave me a thumbs up.

  I threw on some clothes. A few minutes later, we were sitting with our backs against the vanity, waiting. My phone was on the floor between us, the timer counting down the seconds until the first two tests were ready.

  “What if it’s positive?” Em asked softly. “Being pregnant at my wedding was definitely not part of the plan.”

  I drew a breath through my nose. Let it out
. “I know how big of a deal this wedding is, Em. But I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the plans we make for ourselves. How maybe opening up to a detour, or to alternate plans, can sometimes be a good thing. Detours can be the best part.” I would know. I was kinda-sorta dating a guy I would have never even considered a month ago.

  I turned to her. “Worst case scenario, you’re having a baby with a man who’s crazy about you. A man you’re already building a life with. Think about it, Em. Kit’s dying to have a family. He’d be thrilled.”

  A ghost of a smile played at her lips. “He would be. He’s going to be such a great dad.” She sighed. “But the wedding isn’t until March. This is a stupid concern, I know, but what about my dress? Ten people have been working on it night and day for months. What if the press finds out? My God, the Queen is going to kill us.”

  My phone chimed. Time was up. I met Em’s eyes.

  “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together. All right?”

  Em blinked. A tear fell down her face. “All right.”

  “Do you want to check? Or you want me to?”

  “You do it.” She set the bottle of water between her legs. “If I stand up I’m worried I’ll puke again.”

  I got to my feet and turned around. Two pregnancy tests were lined up side by side next to the sink.

  It was apparent at first glance that they were both positive.

  For a second I couldn’t breathe. Holy shit. Em’s going to have a baby.

  And then I smiled.

  “What?” Emily said. “Aly, just tell me. I can handle it.”

  I looked at her. “Em. You’re totally knocked up.”

  Her eyes went wide. Her smile grew.

  She burst into sobs.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “I’m knocked up!”

  I got on the ground beside her and pulled her into a hug. I was crying now, too. Crying and smiling, just like Emily.

  “Kit and his fucking super sperm,” I said, and Emily laughed.

  She wiped her eyes. “Wow. Just…wow.”

  We sat like that for a long time. For most of it we were quiet. When the tears finally dried up, I was relieved to see that Emily looked happy. Still bewildered. Maybe even more so. But she was smiling.

  I nudged her with my elbow. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit. But at least now I know where this nausea comes from.” She drew a deep breath. “Honestly, though? I feel…excited. And scared. But excited.”

  “You’re gonna be a great mom.” I stood and offered her my hand. “C’mon, let’s go up to the galley and get you some crackers or something.”

  Em let me pull her to her feet. She wavered for a minute, but then she straightened, taking another long chug of water.

  “Thanks.” She put her head on my shoulder. “For doing this with me. Kit is out on those stupid jet skis, and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

  “Of course.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Congrats, friend. I know it’s not what you planned. But it’s going to work out.”

  She squeezed back. “Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not until I tell Kit and we speak with the Queen. We can’t risk this getting out.”

  “Of course,” I said. “I won’t tell a soul.”

  Em washed her face in the sink while I rubbed some sunscreen onto my face. On our way out, I grabbed the tests from the counter and tossed them in the trash.

  “Don’t want anyone seeing those,” I joked.

  Emily smiled.

  Rob

  The Next Morning

  Aly cried out. A second later, she came around me, and then I pulled out and I was coming, too. I grunted as I came on the small of her back, loud enough for the whole ship to hear. But I didn’t care. I wanted everyone to know I was in Aly’s room fucking her. I wanted them to know that she was mine, and I was hers, and that we were together now.

  I wanted them to be jealous. Because what Aly and I had—it was good. Really, really good. The girl was insatiable. We’d had sex all night, and when I’d wanted to take a break this morning to eat, she’d asked for anal—something we’d messed around with but had never really committed to before.

  Needless to say, we’d missed breakfast.

  Aly, whose backside had been to me in doggie style, collapsed on the mattress. She turned her head just enough so I could see her smile. Her hair covered half her face; it fluttered as she breathed, hard.

  “Robert,” she said. “How the hell does this keep getting better?”

  I reached for the towel we kept beside her bed and wiped off her back. I ran my hand across her skin. It was so smooth here. So soft.

  “Because I’m great in bed. Obviously,” I teased.

  She reached behind her to slap me gently on the arm. “Hey. Takes two to tango.”

  “I know.” I bent down and pressed a wet kiss to her shoulder. “You’re even better, sweetheart.”

  Her smile grew. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  She turned over and grabbed her phone from the night stand. “Shit. My flight leaves in an hour and a half. I have to go.”

  “I wish you’d fly back with me,” I said. “Offer still stands.”

  I was flying out this evening on a private plane loaned to me by a mate. I’d invited Aly, but she wanted to get back to London earlier so she could catch up on some work. Kit and Em were supposed to have come with me. But Emily had come down with some sort of bug last night, and they’d left on the first flight back to London this morning.

  “I know. Next time.” Giving me one more kiss on the mouth, she got out of bed and started throwing her clothes on.

  Five minutes later, she was rushing out the door, trailing her suitcase behind her as she promised to call when she landed.

  The door closed with a quiet click behind her. I ran a hand up the back of my head, a grin working at my lips. This weekend…it’d been everything I’d hoped and more. Kit was having a grand time. So was Em.

  And I was having great sex with a really great girl. I felt full. Full of all the good stuff—anticipation, arousal, contentment.

  But shit if I wasn’t knackered. I hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours.

  I fell back into Aly’s bed. Shot her a text message to let her know I was thinking of her.

  I didn’t even remember passing out.

  I woke with a start several hours later. The light had changed; had to be late afternoon. Running a hand across my face, I blinked the sleep from my eyes and got up. I had to piss like a bloody racehorse.

  In the bathroom, I put one hand on the wall above the toilet and the other on my knob. Christ I was sore. Aly was so damn tight. Not that I minded it.

  Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the motion of the ship, or the forty three whiskey and cokes I’d had over the course of the weekend. But as I turned to flush the toilet, I stumbled, knocking over the bin beside the toilet.

  “Fuck,” I groaned, my big toe smarting.

  Bending down, I began to put all the rubbish—tissues, an empty pack of gum, q-tips—back in the bin when my hand brushed against a box.

  A box for a pregnancy test.

  My stomach dipped. What the hell was this doing in Aly’s trash?

  Panicked—curious—I started to dig through the rubbish. I came up with two pregnancy tests. One had a blue plus sign in the little plastic window. The other had two pink lines.

  I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

  I grabbed at the trash, looking for instructions. I found them in the box. Pregnant (+), Not Pregnant (-).

  Whoever took these tests was definitely pregnant.

  Was Aly pregnant? This was her bathroom. But maybe one of the other girls had come in here and taken these tests. Although that didn’t make much sense—every stateroom on board had its own private bathroom. I imagined most people would want to take a pregnancy test in private, alone, in their own damn bathroom.

  Was Em pregnant? Did that explain her sudden departure with Kit earlier this morni
ng? But I immediately dismissed that idea. Emily was a serious-minded career woman. She was the most organized person I’d ever met. Save for Aly, of course. And Kit was a goddamned boy scout. He took himself—and his role as the future king of England—very seriously. They’d never fuck up like this.

  Aly and I hadn’t used condoms all weekend. I’d come inside her. A lot. But the timing couldn’t be right. Didn’t you have to be at least a couple weeks pregnant for these tests to work?

  I went back to the instructions. Sure enough, they said some rubbish about two weeks and waiting until the first day of a missed period.

  Then again, there was that night at my place. Which had been—what—a month ago? A little less? Aly and I had had sex twice. And I’d used the same condom both times. Shit could’ve easily leaked out. It could’ve torn. Aly was on the pill now. But had she been on the pill then, too? Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  A pulse of panic moved through me, making my scalp prickle with heat.

  Jesus Christ.

  There was a very good chance I’d gotten Aly pregnant. I was holding the evidence right here in my hands. But why wouldn’t she tell me? This was big news. Big, life-changing, scary fucking news.

  Scary news.

  It hit me. Her rushing out earlier. Insisting we have sex over and over all night and all morning, which left no time for talking.

  I was scared. But so was she. She was scared to tell me. Aly knew about my past. My family history. About how Alexander’s carelessness with this exact same thing tore my family apart. Knew how careful I’d been not to repeat his mistake.

  Did she think I’d be angry? That I wouldn’t react well?

  I tugged a hand through my hair. Fuck.

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  I stumbled out of the bathroom. Grabbed my phone and called Aly.

  It went straight to voicemail. She was still in the air.

  I called Kit, and when he didn’t pick up, I called Emily, too, even though I knew they were still in the air, too.