by Zoey Oliver
“Get your sweet ass in here,” I say, pulling her inside.
I don’t wait for hellos; as soon as the door is shut I’ve got her pressed against the wall, kissing her deeply. I want to devour her. I’ve masturbated more times than I can count since the greenhouse, thinking about this moment, having her here.
Never taking my lips from hers, I open her jacket, sliding it off her shoulders. As soon as it hits the ground, her hands are on my chest, fingers digging in. I growl at her and take her ass in hand, pulling her into my groin.
Abi breathes out a moan and then, “Teach me.”
Lost in the kiss, it doesn’t register. “What?”
“Teach me,” she repeats, her palms running down my abdomen and the clasp of my belt. “How to pleasure you. Teach me.”
I don’t believe I’ve ever hardened this stiff so quickly. My cock strains at the fabric of my trousers, needing to be released. I suddenly can’t remember any of the plans I had made, any of the things I had designed to do to her body. Her body, God, look at it. Black lace standing in stark contrast with her creamy skin. More skin than I’m sure she’s shown any man.
She takes my hand, a quiet confidence shining through. Abi’s eyes flit over to where a fire burns in the hearth. “The lights?”
Knowing what she wants, I hit the row of switches at the door, dimming the room except for the warm glow of the fire. Her eyes move down my body to the hard bulge at the front of my trousers, and she bites at her bottom lip. I just about come right then, from that look on her face.
Abi takes me by the hand and leads me over to the luxurious rug in front of the fire. She turns to me, an intoxicating mixture of coyness and lust running over her features. My heart thumps as she lowers to her knees in front of me, her hands resting at my belt, removing the leather from the clasp. I remind myself to breath then help her with the latch, our fingers working together above my throbbing cock.
The button and zipper of my trousers come more easily, but Abi — sexy, sweet Abi — smiles up at me gratefully for the help. Her fingers tremble, but hell, my hands are shaking a bit, too. She fingers my hard shaft through the fabric of my briefs, and I reach under the band to pull myself out. Abi works my pants down my thighs, her eyes trained upward, glued to what is being revealed. I don’t know if it’s the selective breeding of the royal line or sheer chance, but I’ve been blessed with a King-sized cock.
Her mouth falls open a bit as she takes in my full length and girth, her eyes alight with joy and curiosity.
With bare feet already, I step out of my pants then pull at the shoulders of my shirt, lifting it cross-armed over my head, and discard it to my side. Naked, I look down at the kneeling Abi, her palms on my thighs, her tongue running across her lips.
There’s a charging bull inside my chest roaring to be let free. I’m not used to practicing restraint. It takes everything inside of me, but instead of throwing her to the floor and ravishing her, I take my cock by the base and angle it slightly down.
She tilts her head modestly. “What would you like me to do?”
“I want your lips on me.” I want much more than that — I want to do everything imaginable with this gorgeous creature, but for now I’m happy to start with watching her swallow my cock.
“Tell me how.”
I laugh in surprise. “Surely you’ve given head before.”
She drops her eyes. “No.”
My groin tightens and my cock throbs at that simple little word. Not because I care about what she’s done or that I need her to be unversed in the ways of pleasure — but because I get to be here right now, bestowed with the honor of sharing in one of her first-time experiences — the first of many, I hope. “Well, color me surprised, Abigail Strathmore.”
She peeks up at me, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Can you teach me?”
I draw a breath and my chest swells looking at her beautiful face, her voice so of authenticity — no games, no pretense. “Goddamn, Abi. I am one lucky bastard,” I tell her.
Abi looks up at me, her eyes glittering underneath those long lashes of hers. “I want to give you the best cock sucking you’ve ever had.”
My eyes go wide at her choice of words, and my erection throbs in my hand. Holy shit. I didn’t think this could get any hotter, but Abi just keeps surprising me.
“Well, in that case, I’m fucking delighted to help. I grip my cock firmly. “You’re going to want to wrap your hand around me, like I am, here.”
I remove my grip on my shaft, and a shiver of pleasure runs through me as Abi’s hand replaces mine.
“Like this?”
“Exactly like that,” I say as she runs her hand up my shaft.
Whether it’s the way she looks up at me, genuinely looking for approval, or the touch of her skin to mine in such an intimate place, my knees began to tremble. “I need to sit down. Come, over there.” I nod my head to the right, at a chair near the fire.
She follows, crawling across the rug on her hands and knees, and I pause for a moment, watching her beautiful, round ass jiggling as she draws closer. It’s all I can do to not step behind her and smack those sexy cheeks. But I make myself sit down, and Abi crawls between my legs, sliding her hands up my thighs, wrapping her fingers around my stiff cock.
“Does this make it easier?” she asks. “The chair?”
“It can. But, truthfully, you’re just making me a bit weak in the knees. I don’t want to fall on my ass, though I’m sure it would make this, um, teaching session rather memorable.”
“That wouldn’t need to happen to make this stay in my memories forever.” She doesn’t even realize how hard her words strike me. “Is it always like that?” she asks. “Your legs giving out, I mean.”
“No,” I answer frankly.
Abi smiles happily and tightens her grips on my cock, coaxing a groan from me.
“Now, tell me what you want me to do.”
“Start with the head. Just like you’re enjoying a candy sucker.”
She gives me a look and I laugh. “Okay, a really big sucker.”
Abi wets her lips and leans up, stretching over top of me, her ample breasts rubbing against my thighs as she shifts forward. I brush her hair from her forehead and behind an ear, holding it back so I can watch as her lips close around my cockhead. The warmth and wetness is immediate and intense. I want to buck, but I flex my core and hold my hips in place.
My chest swells, though. I take in a massive breath and let it out in a low groan as Abi sucks down on the tip of my cock. Her eyes dart up to me, a questioning expectancy there.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” I say, answering her unspoken question. “That’s good. Keep going.”
I run my fingers through her hair then slide my other palm between my thigh and her body. My hand dips into the cup of her bra, and I roll her nipple between my fingers.
Abi sucks on my head, running her lips over it tightly, like a lollipop. I want every inch of my cock in her mouth, but I doubt she can handle it.
“Can you take more?” I ask. “Go deeper?”
She lets my tip come free of her mouth and nods. “I can. I’m doing it right so far?”
I actually laugh. Just a soft, chuckling laugh. “Oh, Abi, you are doing just fine. You’re a natural.”
Fortified, she lowers her mouth again and takes me in. This time, I can’t resist completely. My hips rise just a little, needing to be inside of her. Her eyes snap to mine again as I do it, and I see a lustful gleam there.
“Just like before,” I tell her, “but with longer strokes, go down as far as you can and then back up. Press your tongue against — oh, fuck.” I draw in a ragged breath, every muscle in my body tensing.
She repeats the movement and my cock pulses. “Yeah, just like that.” My voice comes out a little higher than I wanted, but I’m not used to coaching a woman through a blowjob — or for her efforts to have this effect on me.
I’m also revving up more quickly than I wanted. It usually takes
me longer to get off when I’m getting a blowjob than any other activity, but not tonight. Tonight is going to be fast. Watching her suck me is the sexiest thing I’ve seen in ages. I try to slow things down by closing my eyes, my hands massaging her breasts. She mewls satisfaction for me, and the sound does nothing to improve the restraint I’m trying to impose on myself. Instead, a huff of air comes to my lips as my balls tighten.
I open my eyes. She’s watching me with rapt attention. My thighs shake slightly. “Abi, I’m going to come. If you don’t want to swallow, you might want to—”
I grunt loud as she tightens her suction on my cock, her fist beginning to move with the same slow pumping action of her lips. It’s too much. I hold onto the arms of the chair with both hands. I bare my teeth and come with a shout and a curse.
“Fuck!” I breath in and let go again. She keeps going until my legs stop jerking. “Holy shit.”
Abi sits back on her heels, a smile on her lips as she wipes them with the back of her hand. “Good?”
I don’t chuckle softly this time, I have a good laugh. “Good? Hell! Woman, if that’s what you can do with your mouth...”
She beams up at me, proud of a job well done. That voluptuous body of hers is only the more tantalizing in the dancing flicker of firelight. Sumptuous Abi.
Time to exercise the royal prerogative. I was born to command, what better time than now to make use of my executive power? “That’s some damn sexy lingerie, Abi, but I want it off. Now.”
Not missing a beat, my virginal vixen snaps the bra clasp behind her back, a hint of uncertainty shading her features as she fumbles with her lingerie. “I’ve never done this before, Henry.”
Fuck me if that innocence doesn’t give a one, two punch to my heart. “Let me help.”
It’s my turn to hit my knees, and I come close to her, reaching for the straps of her bra. I drape the elastic bands over my fingers and pull it toward me, sliding my fingers down to the lacy cups holding her tits. I pull the fabric down. Abi lets it come, exposing her full breasts. I dip my head and take her nipple into my mouth. Abi whimpers out a breathy gasp followed by this little high-pitched moan, and my entire existence becomes about doing whatever it takes to make those sweet sounds keep coming.
I apply backward pressure, and Abi angles her shins out from under her then sits on her pretty behind. More pressure, and she’s on her back on the bearskin, the flames flickering across her skin. I roll her nipple between my lips then suck, using a hand to cup her breast into my mouth. Fuck me if she doesn’t taste better than wild honeysuckle.
Propping myself beside her on one forearm, I send the other hand down her stomach and into the waistband of her black, lace panties. “Your turn,” I tell her. “Show me how to pleasure you.”
Even in the dim light, I can see the flush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks. “I’m sure you’ve done this plenty of times.”
I capture her lips, kissing her deep and sweet. “Not with you. You are something altogether different. Now, put your hand on top of mine.”
Abi purses her lips together as her fingers trace down my arm, her palm settling over the back of my hand. She looks to me for direction. Teach me, those eyes say. Tell me what to do.
“Match your fingers up with mine, one on top of the other.” A thrill runs up my spine as I watch her fingers disappear below her own panties, her fingers settling in an exact if smaller match over mine. “Now use me to touch yourself.”
Her eyes search mine and then dart this way and that, her shyness taking hold. I break the intense study I’m conducting of her beautiful face and nudge my nose into her neck. Abi tips her head back, and I kiss the soft flesh under her jaw. She sighs silently, and her body relaxes.
Her fingers begin to work on top of mine, dipping my middle finger into her folds while pressing down with the heel of my palm. She guides me lower, stroking as we go. I match my lips to the rhythm she’s setting, and soon, her entire body is matching it. Her shoulder blades rise and fall, her hips and ass slowly pump, her spine arches, and her legs open.
I kiss her neck, her beautiful tits, her shoulder, tracing a line of wetness with my tongue everywhere I can reach.
Abi’s grip tightens, and so does mine. Her fingers curl in against mine, pushing my middle finger into her pussy — not much, just a bit, but it’s enough to drive me wild. She bears down, her tight pussy contracting around my finger, and I flex my knuckle, stroking her inner walls.
I’m trying to ignore that I’m rock hard again and my cock is throbbing, twitching to be slid into of that wet hotness instead of my finger. I need to distract myself from the urge to pin her to the floor and piston my thick cock inside of her.
So I bite. Gently. But the contact of my teeth to her neck makes Abi gasp then cry out. I nibble at the skin of her neck and shoulders as she guides my hand, her breathing becoming rapid, little gasps mixed with long, low moans. God, I love the sounds of her arousal.
Her hips thrust up, and her hand clenches down on mine. I slip the tip of another finger in and begin to push deeper, but she rocks her hand back, putting the brakes on. So instead of penetrating any deeper, I just stroke my fingers inside her faster and faster, rubbing against her clit with the heel of my hand, as Abi guides me in bringing her to orgasm. Her wetness spills over, running down my fingers, wetting the silken strands of fiber beneath us.
Her breaths come hard and fast, then her soft curves harden, and her thighs flex. I vibrate my fingers inside of her, and feel her walls crush down on them as she comes.
All at once, she relaxes, her body going elastic, and she rolls her head against the soft rug. “Oh my God…”
Her breath evens out into longer, deep lungfuls with a near sigh at the end of each.
“Good?” I repeat her question from earlier.
She glows with post orgasmic bliss, her hair an absolute mess from the static charge of the rug. “Whew… Henry, if that’s what you can do with your fingers...”
Our eyes meet. For a moment, it’s there. The permission. The need to be ravished, right here, in front of the fire. To be fucked hard and fast, for me to roll on top of her, spread her gorgeous legs, and take her with the same intensity I see shining in her eyes. I run my palm up her stomach and to her breasts. She arches into my touch. She wants it just as much as me.
But I promised I wouldn’t. I told her I would wait. She’s not going to regret one second she spends with me, and I know it’s too soon. No matter how much lust is in her eyes right now, she’s not ready.
So, however much I will kick myself for it in the morning, I roll away and stand up. I feel the void I leave in my wake and her hurt eyes following me as I pace toward my four-poster and seize the bedspread and a couple pillows.
I turn and loft one of the pillows toward her, watching with amusement as it fluffs down straight on her face. A giggle comes from beneath the pillow, and a part of me feels like we’re kids again as I settle back down beside her, covering us both with the blanket.
She fluffs her pillow and I stare at her, still amazed that this gorgeous creature beside me is the same girl from my childhood. “If someone had told me ten years ago that one day I would be lying naked beside my best friend’s kid sister, Ms. Annoying As Shit Abi, and I would have bet my crown against it.”
She runs a finger across the hot skin of my chest and grins. “Let’s just say, it’s a good thing we aren’t kids anymore, Henry. Because you make me want to be very naughty, in the most adult ways possible.”
I shake my head with a grin. “I had a lot of fun growing up. But this? There’s no comparison. I much prefer these activities. I guess the days of you hiding in trees and spying on your brother and I, are long over, aren’t they?”
Her smile is easy and beautiful. “Most certainly, I would say. But tell me, Prince Henry, what has happened between you and my brother? You two don’t seem to be glued together these days like you used to be.”
“Ah, I’m not sure,” I say as casuall
y as I can. I don’t want to bring up my frustrations at Spencer’s apathetic attitude, or the terrible fucking choice of company he’s keeping lately. She might already be painfully aware of his lack of concern about her wellbeing, and I don’t want to throw salt in the wound. “Perhaps we’ve grown apart a bit lately.”
She turns to me, propping her fist against her temple as she lay. “I suppose you’re coming into a lot of responsibility, aren’t you? Besides approving the floral arrangements, that is.”
I know the track of thought she’s pursuing. Spencer might be doing his damnedest to avoid becoming involved in the politics of the Strathmore family, but I can’t escape my responsibilities any longer.
“Yes, I am. As are you, it seems. I’m not entirely convinced you’re coming home to get married because you have a deep, abiding desire to marry a baron, earl, or duke.”
Her eyes fall from her eager perusal of my exposed chest, and I wish I hadn’t brought it up. She rolls to her back, one arm behind her head. “A prince has his responsibilities, a lady has hers.”
I run the comment over in my head. Surely, she can’t mean what I think. Courtly affairs in Ostwyn can be archaic at times, and I know matches have been made with politics or status in mind, but...
A series of three hard knocks sound against the thick, mahogany doors to my private suite. The deep voice is muffled through the hard wood. “Your Highness. The last of the guests have emptied the halls, and the palace is quiet. We can escort Lady—” there’s a pause as Pierre thinks better of saying Abi’s name even now “—your guest back to her suite whenever she’s ready.”
Still uncomfortable from my question, Abi stirs and begins to rise. I catch her arm. “No. Not yet. We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me about Africa and the water crisis, and oh! I’ve heard rumors that there’s a story about you involving muck boots and elephant shit — I need to hear that one.” I give her a wide, inviting smile. “Just stay a little bit.”
“A while longer?”
“Yes, a while longer. Come on, lie back down with me.”