Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)

by Abigail Graham

  Ana gasps and her stomach clenches, and the expression on her face is somewhere between ticklish and feels good. She gives me a sharp look, and I run my hands over her warm skin, marveling at the sight. I'm buried in her to the root, my cock throbbing like a newborn star between my legs.

  As she leans on my chest, she bites her lip and starts to ride up and down. I can see my cock sliding out of her just a fraction before her furnace-hot sex swallows it again, and all I can do is pant and watch. She's so fucking wet, it's incredible. I grab her neck and pull her down roughly, tightening my stomach to lift her up. I have to taste her breasts.

  Ana chokes back a soft cry as I take her nipple in my mouth and falls on me, cradling my head in her arms as we find a rhythm together.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't stand this. I shift and push her down, holding her against my chest, and thrust into her from below. I can't believe how soft and silky and warm her skin is, the way she shudders at the slightest touch, like my fingers are magic wands.

  She whimpers and chokes back a noise again, rising a little from my chest. I loosen my grip and let her ride the way she wants, take my cock the way she wants. Every sensation is a surprise for her, and the shock and pleasure is written on her face. She's so worried about making noise, she grabs my finger and pulls it into her mouth and sucks, hard.

  I pull my finger loose and cup her breasts, then grab her sides and push her down onto my cock so hard it hurts, but I don't care. I want to reach every inch inside her.

  "Moan for me. Scream. Make some noise, Ana. Let me hear you."

  Ana

  After so much forcing myself quiet, I let out every sound that forms in my throat, every moan and cry, every whimper and blissful sigh.

  Jason grabs me and rolls. I lock my legs around him as he mounts me, thrusting harder now. He gives me a questioning look.

  "Does it hurt—?"

  "Fuck me very hard. Now."

  "As you command, Princess."

  He drives into me, and I rake his back with my nails, nip at his neck, urge him on with my feet on his thighs as I grip him with mine. As he thrusts and grinds against me, my pleasure mounts, growing within me by the second, like a flower unfolding, flaming petals rising from its core to spread heat through my body. The water in my hair will boil; the droplets on my skin should sizzle.

  He fucks like a god, and I feel like a goddess.

  Jason thrusts into me hard and holds himself there, then does it again. The lust in his eyes is almost like anger, and somehow he is rough and gentle at the same time. I curl up against him as he presses me down and ride the sensation, my eyes pressed shut.

  I try to hold back. I try to contain myself, but I cry out, loudly, until my throat burns as beautiful anguish consumes my body. The pleasure goes from trickling through my middle like the first melt of spring snow to a raging, boiling torrent that fills me until it radiates through my skin, sending me into sheer ecstasy.

  He grunts and holds me close, and I can feel him throbbing, pulsing, oh my God. He's coming, I can feel it. His body is like iron, hard and tight and hot, the power in him almost frightening, but it's mine, mine, I made him do this. I take him into me, steal him, swallow him, draw us together. There is only one, only us.

  "Don't you dare fucking stop," I cry out.

  He doesn't. He grabs my hips as he rises up, and turns me over. I get on all fours and thrust back at him and he takes me again, eager and ready. God, it feels so good, so raw, the energy coursing through me tightening my muscles into wires. I fuck him as much as he fucks me, thrusting back against him so our bodies meet like the waves meeting the shore behind us.

  I'm so loud my voice echoes. Jason moans, grunts, cries out. He goes still, and I use my hands and knees to push back against him, taking him hard. He pulls me with him as he falls back, and I ride him facing away, my fingers laced through his. I can fuck him harder this way, our bodies meeting furiously.

  My second peak is harder than my first, and I fall against him. He locks his arms around me and thrusts up, deep inside as I arch against his back, and I can feel him coming again, the tightness of his belly under me, the groans in my ear.

  He rolls over and I lie on my stomach. He's still inside me. His thrusts are slow, gentle, his cock still rock hard. How can he keep going? I can barely move, my legs like jelly, my arms limp. I let my cheek fall on the blankets and look at the ocean as his breath tickles my face, as he whispers pledges and promises in my ear and takes my hands, threads his fingers through mine.

  It feels like he fucks me for hours this way, until I've lost all sense of time, of space, of my own name and who I am. My heart is like a shining star in my chest, too big to contain. When he grunts and finishes a third time inside me, he doesn't pull out but holds me, fills me, stays closer than close.

  When I roll over and he lies on top of me and kisses me, I fall into a world of pure bliss, lazily stroking his sweaty body with my hands. I want to touch him everywhere and take my time to ensure there is not one spot I miss.

  He kisses me over and over, our bodies entwined, until the sun begins to set. Only then do we sit up, together, and I fall against him.

  The first tear burning down my cheek is soon joined by another, then another. I start to weep.

  Jason gathers me up in his arms, walling me off from the world in his strength. I cling to him.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I don't want to stop," I whimper. "You win. I'll give up anything to be with you. If they try to take me, I won't go. I love you."

  He tenses. "Ana."

  "Yes?"

  "I love you too."

  He kisses me, hard.

  "I'm fucking freezing. Can we go now?" he asks.

  "I want more sex."

  "After that if we go again, I really will run dry. We have more time. There will be lots more sex. Trust me."

  I grin and stand up. Then I fall back down, and he catches me. I end up sitting on my butt to dress while Jason pulls on his clothes. When he offers me a hand and pulls me easily to my feet, I am steady enough to walk. He ends up balling up the blankets and carrying them with us.

  Keeping my hands off him is nearly impossible. I suddenly feel free, liberated. I have to keep my feet on the ground or I'll float away.

  The moon rides high by the time we get back in the car. I snuggle up against Jason right away and close my eyes, barely able to stay awake. I'm exhausted.

  I don't want to sleep. I want to be awake every moment with him, but the motion of the car lulls me into a deep, dreamless sleep. Next I know, I'm waking up as we drive across the bridge, under the big lights. I sit up and yawn, and manage another five minutes of wakefulness before I doze off again.

  When next we stop, it's at the house. He pulls the car in behind it.

  I look at the poor stuffed shark.

  "I can't take him. I can't sneak him back into my room."

  Jason grins. "I'll keep him here. You'll see him soon enough. Can you come to my game tomorrow? It's a home game."

  "Of course." I kiss his cheek. "Thank you. For everything."

  "Love you, baby."

  "I love you," I tell him again.

  I remember I must put my hood up as he walks me home. It feels like I can fly up to my window. I have to calm myself before he boosts me over the fence. He waits until he sees me climb in the window before he waves and walks back.

  I sit at the window and stare after him, sighing loudly with every breath. I slip out of my clothes and shake the sand out of my hair. That one would be difficult to explain.

  Sitting on the bed, I ponder how I will deal with this. I have never successfully stood up to Mother before. She overrules me in everything, but this must end. Why must I suffer under some archaic rule? It's not the fourteenth century anymore. There is no reason I cannot marry anyone I want, or not marry anyone at all if I do not wish it.

  She can understand, she must understand. If Thorlief tells me true, how can she let me suffer the same pain? I
f she tried so hard to prevent it, why would she inflict it? I know I can reason with her.

  With Jason in my heart I can do anything.

  I bathe quickly, avoiding anyone else, and return to my room with my hair still down. I put it in a simple ponytail to sleep and flop on the bed, utterly exhausted. I slept for hours in the car already, but my fatigue steals up on me like a pouncing cat.

  I wake a few times in the night, but mostly sleep through. When I wake I feel full of possibility and excitement.

  Rising, I dress for the day. The game will begin at three. I'll need to call Dee and plan for it. I could just continue the fiction that I am sick and use that to slip out unnoticed. Thorlief will surely help me.

  It is him I expect when the knock comes at the door.

  Instead, it is Bjorn. He walks in with two other guards, who stride into my room.

  "Princess. You will come with us,” Bjorn says.

  I glance at them. "Come with you where?"

  "Home," he says.

  The word slips into me and through me like a knife, and my heart freezes solid. I can't speak; my throat is too choked. He strides forward and hands me an iPad. I take it, like a machine might, my movements jaggy and uncoordinated.

  I find myself looking at the front page of The Royal Exposé website. On the cover are two images. On the right side is Jason… with me, my hood down, plain as day. On the left is Jason walking out of a room….

  A locker room. With a woman. With Grandolf.

  The headline reads, PLAYER'S PRINCESS: How the quarterback melted the ice princess's heart! Will she shatter when he learns of his SECRET LOVE AFFAIR WITH PROFESSOR SEXY?

  I begin to scream.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jason

  "You ready, O Captain my Captain?" Akele booms.

  Right now, I'm ready for anything. I grab my bag and head down the stairs to join the brothers. Today's game should be a breeze. We'll be playing the Penn College Warblers, who are about as intimidating as they sound. They don't have that whole "ridiculous name and dangerous team" thing the Honey Badgers roll with.

  No game is easy, no enemy to be dismissed, but carrying Ana in my heart, I feel like I could lift the world. My blood sings in my veins, and my heart swells with joy for the first time I can really remember. The fact she'll be watching will only make my victory sweeter.

  The brothers are praying silently, as they always do before we even leave the house. I leave them to it and drink a small protein shake while I wait. I don't want to take a bad hit and barf all over the field in front of Ana, but I can't go into battle on an empty stomach either.

  A knock comes at the door. Coach might have sent one of the assistants down to hurry us up. The brothers rise from their kneeling prayers as I open the door and find Dee standing on my porch.

  Her eyes are red and raw, tear marks tracked down her cheeks. I blink a few times and motion the brothers over.

  "Dee? What happened? You look—"

  She slaps me. Hard. There's a few different levels of woman-slap. This is a category IV. She puts her hips into it like a boxer and pistons on her foot. Her hand hits my face so hard, that after the pain and flash of light, my first thought is that she had to have broken her hand.

  "You fucking disgusting slimeball cunt motherfucker predatory pig shit horselicker manslut fuckboy!" she shrieks, throwing herself at me.

  Akele drags me back and steps between us. I'm still dazed by the whole thing, trying to figure out what the hell I've done now.

  Akele holds his ex-girlfriend by the arm, mostly to keep her from clawing my eyes out. She's out for blood.

  "What the hell?" I yell.

  "You know exactly what, you fucking sleaze! How could you do this to her? I was starting to think you actually gave a shit about her, and now I find out about this?"

  "What? Dee, you're not making any sense."

  "You were fucking around behind her back the entire time!"

  "What? No I wasn't!"

  "Then how do you explain this?" she hisses, whipping out her phone.

  I reach for it, but Akele grabs it, and his eyes widen. His bushy eyebrows climb up his head and he almost lets go of Dee. He points the phone at me.

  Processing the front page of The Royal Exposé takes me a moment. First, I have to figure out what the fuck The Royal Exposé is. It's a tabloid, apparently. A royal-watcher tabloid. I thought people only cared about the British royals, but apparently not. Ana is front-page news.

  So am I.

  So is Grandolf, walking out of that fucking locker room right behind me, looking as smug as the cat that caught the canary.

  "Did she see this?" My voice is robotic. It sounds like it's coming from fifty feet away, like someone else said it.

  "Of course she fucking saw it."

  "Where is she now?"

  "She's gone."

  "No she isn't. It's not true, Dee."

  Ana

  How could he do this to me?

  I feel completely numb, like every nerve ending in my body has gone dead. Seated on the edge of my bed, I stare at nothing while Bjorn stands over me with his huge arms folded and my mother's men pack my things into large suitcases. I care not if they leave it all behind; it means nothing to me. I stand and walk a few mechanical steps from the bed while they pack up the sheets and blankets.

  It's like watching ants sprawl over a dropped morsel of food. They tear down my life here—such as it was—with such efficiency that I can barely believe it. It's not long before I'm left alone with an outfit lying on the bare bed.

  "Dress," Bjorn says harshly.

  "Where is Thorlief?"

  "Not your concern. The queen commands you return to Jyvaslka at once."

  He steps out, at least. I quickly change out of my sleeping clothes and leave them piled on the floor in favor of a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.

  There is no use protesting or struggling. I don't care what happens to me now. My heart is a block of ice. My soul is freezing. Chill water runs in my veins. I can't even cry. I have never been so utterly crushed in all my life as I am right now.

  How could he do this to me?

  Outside, there is already a car waiting. Mother is true to her word. I take my seat in the back, and the door slams shut with explosive finality. I don't even glance back as they roughly throw my things in the trunk.

  No one sits with me. A small motorcade forms, and I'm cut off from my driver by a glass partition. I could lower it, but I prefer the solitude.

  When I am finally alone, I allow myself to cry.

  A hissing, choked sob explodes from my chest, and I bury my face in my hands, as if I can crush the broken pieces of my happiness back together, but they've splintered along jagged angles and no longer fit.

  Why?

  I loved him. No—love, present tense, which only makes my anguish deeper, the pain sharper. I still want him, even after this. Not only did he betray me, but it was with her. That vile woman that's tormented me since I first arrived here, and Jason slept with her.

  Lies, a tiny voice whispers. No, screams. It's like a splinter in my mind.

  I can't believe he would. I saw the pictures, I saw him walk out of that locker room with her, I read her words on the page. My head saw and my mind understood, but my heart does not believe. I clutch my chest as I weep, willing myself to turn to ice, to steel.

  Is this what Mother felt when her lover was taken from her? No, she had to suffer her happiness being stolen from her. Mine was crushed into a ball and thrown away. I can't stand it. It feels like I swallowed frozen coal.

  Why, Jason?

  As the driver takes me away, I watch this little world I've lived in for years fade away from me. By the time we reach the highway, I'm in a strange land, the scenery half-remembered from my arrival.

  I remember the airport vividly though. Our little caravan of cars drives to a locked gate and across the tarmac to a waiting private plane with the royal crest on its tail. Mother probably
kept it fueled just in case she needed to whisk me home.

  This was inevitable. It was going to happen no matter what.

  I was a fool to fall in love.

  Jason

  I hand Dee’s phone back to her and walk past her. My legs feel like they're moving on their own, like someone has hooked me up to a puppeteer's strings. Then the severity of what I just saw lands in my stomach like a prizefighter's punch, and I fucking bolt, slamming the door aside as I charge out onto the sidewalk.

  I run so fast it feels like my leg muscles will burst. I run so fast I outrun my own breath. I run like the devil is on my heels. Usually, Ana's house is maybe a ten minute walk. I make it there in less than two, charge right up the steps, and start pounding on the door.

  "Somebody's in there. Open up. Open the fuck up, god damn it."

  No answer, nothing.

  "Open the door! Ana! Ana!"

  The door quivers in the frame as I pound on it with both fists. Terror and fury mix in my stomach and burn, flames rising up through my throat into my head. I feel like I'm made out of rubber and the world is made out of paper. This can't be happening. I'm going to wake up soon.

  I'm hurling myself at the door, hammering it with my shoulder as Akele runs up, only a minute or two behind. Aheahe is behind him, literally carrying Dee on his shoulder.

  Akele walks up and swings his huge body, and the door cracks loose from the lock and hinges in a single blow of his massive arm. I run past him and dart inside.

  The house has been cleaned out hastily. There's still some random knickknacks and junk on the floor. They left all the basic stuff, the kitchen stuff and the like, but everything is bare, empty, the walls clean of pictures, the carpet rolled up against the wall.

  I've never even seen this part of the house, but it fills me with dread. I run upstairs, screaming, "Ana!" like she's still here, like maybe I'm not too late. I shove one door open and find a bare, empty study room, just a desk and chair sitting by themselves.