by Ava Walsh
“So do you,” I countered, biting my lip at the way he’d said desperate. Like he knew I’d been thinking about him all day, knew how much I wanted him. “You’ve also read about many things you’ve never done.”
“I have,” he agreed. “There are also many things I have done that I want to show you.”
“Show me?” I repeated, swallowing.
“Experiences we could share,” he said, “that I could give you.”
“I want new experiences,” I said. I wasn’t sure I understood all of his meaning, but I was sure we were talking about sex, and I was certain I liked it.
“That’s good to hear,” he said, smirking at me again, his eyes burning into me. I thought I could just stay right there, under his eyes, for hours, just letting him look at me like that. I thought all I wanted in the world was for dinner to be over so he could touch me again.
“I want you to know how much I’m enjoying being here,” I said, biting my lip. “Last night and today were wonderful.”
“I am very much enjoying having you here,” Tristan said, low and rumbling, and I felt his words in every inch of my skin.
“Good,” I said, hoping my smile back looked confident and sincere, not shaky.
“I hope it is everything you imagined, everything you wanted,” Tristan said, smiling back, almost another smirk.
“So far it has been more,” I admitted, thinking of last night, of how his hands had felt on my skin. Of what he had made me feel and how much I liked it.
All of the dinner felt like a lead-up, like some kind of dance we were doing to get to our destination. We ate quickly, and talked more about the palace, about the things I had seen today. The whole time, Tristan kept saying things that sounded like they were about more than furniture, that sounded like they were about me and about sex. I found myself even more flushed than the night before, enjoying his company even as badly as I wanted the evening to hurry past. I wanted Tristan so badly, wanted him to fuck me, and I wanted to make him moan, wanted to have him in my mouth, to feel my cheeks and lips stretched with his cock.
I hoped that tonight I would have the chance.
Chapter Twelve - Tristan
Ella looked so sexy during dinner that I could not stop staring at her. I wanted to lay her down across the table and fuck her right there. I was so distracted by how beautiful she looked that I could hardly eat. She was smiling at me more tonight, and she seemed less nervous, more relaxed. She was flirtier and bolder, and it was a huge turn-on. Everything about Ella was a huge turn-on. I kept thinking to myself in excitement how she was the same woman from Facebook, the same woman I’d fallen for online. I kept replaying in my mind all the things she’d said, the things I couldn’t wait to live out with her tonight.
After dinner, as an irritating calendar alert on my phone kept reminding me, I had to quickly call the prime minister. As much as all I wanted was to be with Ella right away, I had to wait just a little longer.
“I have to make a phone call,” I said, once dinner had been cleared away.
“Right now?” she said. Her beautiful face pulled in, almost pouting like she wanted me right now, like she didn’t want to wait. I suppressed a grin.
“Right now,” I said. “In my bedroom, there is something for you to change into. Be ready for me when I get back.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding quickly. I wanted to kiss her, pull her in, pick her up, feel those fucking perfect legs of hers wrapped around my waist as I carried her to the bedroom and threw her down on my bed. Reluctantly, I settled for sliding a hand up her arm and teasing my fingers on her exposed collarbone before leaving the room.
I made my phone call quickly, trying to concentrate on important diplomatic matters and not on how hard my cock was. I managed to respond appropriately to several questions and schedule a few things, so I thought I had done a fairly good job. After I hung up, I waited just a few more minutes, to make sure Ella would have time to change, and then I headed back to my own bedroom and the sexy woman waiting for me.
She was waiting for me, and she was fucking stunning, standing in my room in silky blue lingerie that barely covered her. It scooped down low, showing off the swell of her breasts, and came up high, ending right below her ass. I walked to her quickly, pulling her in tight.
I kissed her firmly, cupping her ass with my hands, squeezing and make her gasp into my mouth. I wanted her on her knees for me, wearing this, looking like this, for me. I needed it.
“I want you to get on your knees for me,” I said.
“Yes,” she said, in that same tone she had last night, the breathy, turned-on one that sounded a note away from begging. She put her hands on my belt, undoing it and pulling on my pants. I stepped out of them as she got to her knees. She put a hand around my cock first, stroking me a few times before taking it in her mouth. She looked so good that way, with her lips around me, that I felt myself shiver as she started to move.
“Your lips look so pretty around my cock,” I said, amazed at the sight of it. She was stunning. Her tongue darted out and she licked the head of my shaft as she moved her head, slowly at first, like she wasn't sure how much she could take. Online, she had confessed that she’d thought about this, about gagging on a man, that the thought of it turned her on so much that she had gotten herself off, had come over and over again to the mental image. I slid a hand around the back of her hand, into her hair, pulling her in, encouraging her to show me everything she’d thought about.
She nodded around me, opening her mouth wider, eyes looking at up me as she sucked me. I pushed my hips forward, pressing further into her mouth, making her eyes water and her cheeks flush. She put a hand on my thigh, like she was anchoring herself, and started to pull herself in even more, taking almost all of me in her mouth, making me groan and cup the back of her head harder. She moved back, then in again, using her hand to pull again like she wanted to take me in deep every time, with every stroke.
I pulled her in with my hand, helping, fucking her mouth as she took me, over and over. It felt incredible. She felt incredible, and I wanted it to last forever.
Chapter Thirteen - Ella
I was gagging on him. Tristan was so big that I felt stretched to the back of my throat, and I loved it. I wanted more. I wanted him to push into me as hard as he could, wanted him to hold my head as he fucked my mouth, wanted him to come all over my face and make me an absolute mess.
I was soaked as I worked him with my mouth, so turned on with his cock pressed into my mouth that the flimsy underwear piece of the lingerie I was wearing was wet all the way through. I thought of last night, of Tristan’s fingers in me, fucking me. I thought of his promise to fuck me with his cock next time, and I shuddered. I loved taking it in my mouth so much that I could only imagine how it would feel inside me. I was so wet from doing this to him, for him, that I thought I could make myself come in a second with my own fingers if I just reached down.
I didn’t, though. I concentrated on Tristan, letting him hit the back of my mouth over and over, wanting him to feel as amazing as I did.
“That’s fucking incredible,” he said, throwing his head back. I loved being able to make him do that, make him gasp and bite back curses, make that flush spread across his chest as I worked him.
“Ella, fuck, you’re so good at that,” he said, somewhere between encouragement and a moan. He was the crown prince, and I was making him feel this good, giving him this much. It was an incredible rush, and I wanted more. The head of his cock hit the back of my throat, and I thought of it inside me, filling me, taking me. I gasped around him at the thought, so turned on that my legs started to tremble.
“I’m going to come,” he said, seconds before he did. I stayed where I was, wanting to swallow as much as I could, wanting to feel him in my throat. I gulped, holding still and swallowing as he spurted into my mouth, hot and sticky.
He pulled me to my feet when he was done, kissing me and then pushing me toward the bed. He pulled the lingerie
off me in a single motion, his eyes hungry on me. He reached down, fingers rolling over my nipples, making me gasp and twist under him. He slid his other hand down between my legs, teasingly at first, dancing over my hip bones and the tops of my thighs before dipping into my folds, making me cry out.
“You’re soaked,” Tristan said, breathing heavily. “Is it from sucking me?”
“Yes,” I said, practically panting. I wanted him so much.
“Good,” he said with a smirk, sliding both his hands down and spreading my legs wide. He teased fingers over my soaking clit before sliding one into me, curving up and hitting a spot that made me see white behind my eyes.
“Oh god, please, please, Tristan,” I cried as he added a second finger, twisting them around and opening and closing them inside me like he was stretching me for him. The thought that he was probably doing exactly that was so hot that I moaned again. He slid a third finger into me, fucking me hard and making me gasp. I couldn’t believe how good it felt, how he somehow knew exactly what I wanted. He knew just what I needed, just what to give me, and it was better than I thought it could be.
“So tight around my fingers, Ella,” he said as he twisted and rocked them into me, making me scream.
“Please,” I said, not even sure what I was begging for, but so ready to be taken by him. He kissed me again, hard, as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, over and over, at a relentless pace, until I came in waves around his fingers, screaming again. He fucked me all the way through with his fingers, not stopping until I was so sensitive and overwhelmed I squirmed under him. He slid his fingers out of me, and trailed them, soaking wet, over my ribs, my stomach. I gasped again.
“I believe I made you a promise last night,” he said, eyes on me as I shuddered at his touches. I nodded rapidly.
“Yes, please. I want you. I want you to fuck me, Tristan,” I said. I wanted him inside me, wanted to feel him in all of me, wanted him to be the first one who did that to me. No one had never made me feel like Tristan had. No one else had ever touched me or licked me or made me come, and I wanted all of him now, wanted him to have all of me, wanted his cock inside me. I trailed my hands down his stomach, gasping at how hard again he was already.
“I don’t break promises,” he said, moving back down and running his thumb in a few quick, firm circles on my clit again. Every time he touched me, I felt electric. I never wanted him to stop. He stroked his own cock a couple of times, already rock hard again, before easing it toward my entrance. He moved slowly, easing into me. I breathed, gasping and crying out as he slid in. He stopped moving when he was totally inside me and met my eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, staring at my face. I swallowed hard, hardly believing he was inside me, that in this moment, I was no longer a virgin. That all I wanted right now was more.
“More than okay,” I said.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded. I had never felt so stretched, never felt so much before, and it felt amazing. I felt amazing.
“Please fuck me,” I said again, rocking my own hips up into him. He grinned down at me, eyes dark with lust before he began moving.
God.
Every stroke was incredible, like he had set me on fire in the best possible way. Like he was taking me apart and putting me back together. He went slowly at first, hitting a spot inside me I didn’t know existed. It was all I could do not to scream again and again.
“You feel so fucking good, Ella, shit, you’re so tight, so perfect,” he said as he fucked me.
“This feels amazing,” I said back, gasping. “Oh, god, Tristan, yes.”
Every stroke, every roll of his hips, felt better than the last, and I felt myself building up again, already so close to another orgasm. I felt him in all of me, all the way to my wrists and my ankles, as he fucked me slow and deep, taking me higher, making me feel better than I’d ever felt.
He slid his hands down to my breasts as his cock moved in me, twisting my nipples in his fingers again and squeezing me in his hand as he rocked into me. I brought my hips up to meet his strokes, dizzy with how much I wanted him, with how good I felt. He moved his hand from my breast to between my legs, touching my clit and making me jump.
“Fuck, Tristan,” I cried, my head rolling back as he started rubbing circles on my clit as he fucked me.
“I need to feel it when you come around my cock, it’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, working me faster with his fingers, still so slow and deep inside me.
I crashed over the edge almost instantly, helpless to it, shouting his name as I came.
“Yes, that’s it, fuck, Ella,” Tristan said, coming inside me a moment later. It was like feeling my orgasm had been what he was waiting for, as if it had been what pushed him over the edge. Knowing he wanted me so badly, that I affected him that much, felt almost as amazing as the sex had.
He eased out of me slowly, coming up my body to kiss me, cupping his hands around my face. I wanted to say so many things, but I wasn’t sure if I should. I wanted to thank him, wanted to beg him to do it again, wanted so much in that moment. Instead, I buried myself in his chest, feeling how fast his heart was beating, and smiled, knowing I had caused it.
Chapter Fourteen - Tristan
Waking up next to Ella, I felt a strange sort of happiness I had never quite felt before. This woman was amazing. Last night had been amazing. The way she had felt, the way it had felt to be inside her, the way she had looked, the sounds she’d made, it had all been more than I’d been expecting. I wanted to spend all day doing nothing but discovering new ways to fuck her, to make her come, to make her cry my name in that tone of voice, to hear her beg me for more.
I couldn’t, unfortunately, because I had a lunch to attend for the visiting diplomats from three oceanfront countries we were hoping to establish trade relationships with. I hated to spend my last day with Ella away from her. After today, she’d be gone, and I was already dreading her leaving. She stirred beside me in bed and smiled up at me when her eyes opened, and all I could think was that I wanted to keep her, wanted her to be mine forever.
“Good morning,” she said. Her voice was all soft and scratchy from sleep. I thought spending the day without her would be a waste and shame.
“Good morning,” I replied, reaching down to tuck her hair behind her ears, unable to resist touching her. “Your trial ends today. I am attending an official lunch, and you are coming with me.”
“Is that part of the trial?” she asked, sitting up a little. She was naked under the covers, and they shifted low as she moved, exposing her breasts to me.
“It is now,” I said, allowing my eyes to linger on her breasts before bringing them back up to her face.
“Last night,” she began, biting her lip at me. She trailed off and shook her head, her eyes on me, tracing my skin, my muscles. I reached a hand out and put it behind her neck, hearing her gasp and holding her close for a minute.
“I told you,” I said, “you are going to remember me.”
“I know I am,” she said, still sounding a little out of breath. I trailed my hand down her back, tracing my fingers down her spine, feeling her shudder. I had to get out of bed before I got carried away.
“Meet me in two hours. Fiona will help you get ready,” I said, squeezing her ass with my hand before getting up and throwing her my most charming smile. She smiled back at me, pulling the covers up a little around herself when I got out of bed. She looked so at home in my bed, like she belonged there.
I left her to get ready and went to shower and get dressed. I wasn’t looking forward to today’s lunch, although events like this were better than standard meetings. I disliked the old-fashioned formality of it all, the manners and customs required to have a simple conversation. I was good at it, forceful when I had to be and polite when things were going well, but I didn’t care for it. At least today, though, I would have Ella by my side.
I met her in the formal dining room. I was talking to the head of catering servic
es and I heard her before I saw her, the soft click of her heels on the floor. I turned and stared at her, taking in her appearance. She was wearing a soft yellow dress, modest enough for a diplomatic day lunch but still stunning on her, hugging her chest and her hips. Her hair was braided around her head like a crown and she was wearing pearls around her neck. She looked every inch the part. She was perfect.
She introduced herself to the catering staff and all the other servants in the room as I watched her. The guests arrived before I had a chance to really talk to her again, but she slid up to my side, holding my arm to greet them like she had done this before. She talked to every guest, laughing at their jokes, asking questions, wanting to hear all about their countries and customs. She was acting like an ideal hostess. Like a lady of the court should. It was more than I had been expecting, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to see the ocean, tell me all about it,” she said to an older, overweight man from a very wealthy country.
“You must come see it! You and Prince Tristan. We have a large manor home for visiting royalty with the most exquisite ocean views!” the old man said, his hand on her arm like they were old friends.
“That’s so kind of you. I’m sure that as our countries strengthen our friendship, we’ll have many occasions to visit,” she said. He beamed at her and began to tell a long story about fishing boats. Ella laughed at all the right places as if she had sat through all the same etiquette and diplomacy lessons I’d taken.
“Is she your fiancée?” a woman asked, approaching me as I was watching Ella. I shook my head and looked at the stranger. Her name badge said she was the staff assistant to a diplomat’s office.
“Not quite,” I said, not wanting to explain Ladorian customs and the festival to a stranger.
“You haven’t taken your eyes off her all afternoon,” the woman said, “and I can see why. Pretty and smart, she’s a delight. You should keep her around.”