by Nora Flite
Her fingers pushed between the fabric of my underwear and the hot skin of my stomach. I watched her lips part as she gasped; she’d made contact with me. Her reaction enhanced my reaction. I had to grab the sink behind me to keep myself from yanking my cock into the open and shoving it into her mouth.
She peeled my underwear down my slim hips. The tip of my prick revealed itself where it lay heavily against my belly. Without my underwear holding it in place it fell forward, arching toward the ceiling in a thick, veined crescent. She licked her lips and I groaned.
My pants came down just enough that she could reveal my balls. On her knees, Nova scooted closer, her mouth hovering next to my swollen, glistening head.
Her right hand circled me, unable to fully close. God, I loved how huge I looked in her grip. “Is this okay?” she asked in a whisper, looking up at me through her eyelashes.
“Sweetheart, it’s more than okay. I’m ready to fucking tap dance. I can’t handle how sexy you look with my dick in your hand.”
She took a shuddering breath. With her other palm resting on my hip, Nova rubbed her cheek along my shaft from base to tip. I left a wet streak on her cheek from my precome. “Fucking Christ,” I growled.
Her chest flared, her lungs filling with my male scent. The edge of Nova’s tongue slid across the underside of my dick. When it reached the crown of my cock head and she tasted the sticky juices, she groaned louder than I had. She leaned back slightly; I watched my precome connect between us in the air, a thin, silky filament. Before it broke, she dove forward, circling me with her mouth and taking me in halfway.
Nova squeezed me at the root while sucking me off in increasingly excited strokes. She worked me with gusto, as if my dick was covered in sugar, or cocaine, or something that could make her addicted to my taste.
Hot tingles moved in my cells, expanding out and then down, until my balls were drawing up, readying to explode. I put my hands in her scalp, unable to resist touching her any longer. Her hair was so soft, easy to wrap around my fingers. I thought of myself as a patient man, but I couldn’t keep myself from thrusting her head down on me, trying to fit all of my length into her throat. She coughed, but she kept working to get the last inches of me past her gag reflex.
“Good fucking girl,” I whispered hoarsely. “That’s so damn fucking good. Take me, suck me off all the way. I want to feel my come shooting right into your belly. Can you feel me twitching? So damn close, I’m going to come any second.”
She whimpered around my cock, her tongue grinding on the sensitive cleft under my cock’s head. Then her hands came down, cupping and fondling my balls. I couldn’t take it; her touch was magic.
Hunching forward, I broke past her gag reflex and heard her wet, muffled gag. I went blind with pleasure, smelling her hair and feeling the impossible suction of her hot mouth as my cock swelled bigger than ever. My climax obliterated my senses. Come shot fast and hard into her throat.
Nova pulled away at the last second, before I was finished emptying my load. The final spurt spread on her lips, sliding down her chin. She gasped for air and so did I. I held the sink behind me, worried I’d crack the porcelain in my overwhelmed state.
“That was really, really good,” I said. “Really,” I added, as if it wasn’t enough emphasis.
Looking at me with a sly smile, she wiped the last of my seed off her mouth with her finger, then sucked it like it was a lollipop. The vision of that made my cock twitch. I thought that with a few more minutes of watching her do that, I could’ve gone for another round.
Nova was better than any aphrodisiac.
“Have you really been crushing on me for six months?” I asked, impossibly curious about what I’d done to gain her attention at our original meeting on my estate.
She placed her fingertips to her upper lip, drumming. “That’s not the right way to put it. When I met you in person, you left an impression on me. I felt . . .” Her arm dropped down, her eyes went with it. “I felt like I wanted to be you.”
That was a first. “Why would anyone ever want that?”
I meant to make her smile, but Nova didn’t crack. She simply folded her arms to hug herself. Under the halogen lights, her normally vibrant skin looked sickly. “Because you’re not afraid. Because you’re this bold, funny, amazing person who’s more comfortable in being themselves than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Her words were sincere, but they made no sense to me. Gripping her hands, I pushed my fingers into the gaps between hers, locking us together. “You don’t need to make me your role model. You’re already bold, and strong, and just—Nova, I’ve never met a woman as easygoing as you. Not a single one.”
“Yes,” she agreed slowly. “I’m like this now.”
I waited for her to finish her thought. Instead she escaped from my grasp. Her palm pressed on the door of the restroom. “I’ll go out first. Wait a bit, we don’t want to create a big scandal about you and me having sex in public.”
I almost made a joke, complaining that it was unfair to say that when we hadn’t actually had sex. But I held my tongue. I watched her peek outside, and I stared at where she’d been long after she was gone.
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN -
HAWTHORNE
There was a box on my bed.
Eyeing it, I undid my tie and tossed it over the back of a chair. I’d been up to my new room once since we’d returned to the castle—so I could change for dinner—and this box hadn’t been here.
It was rectangular; white, with a slim gold ribbon strung across at an angle. It stuck out on the richly emerald blankets, which matched my curtains . . . the circular floor rug . . . even the backsplash over my bathroom sink.
Sitting on the mattress, I pulled the box into my lap. Who would leave me a gift? Had Mom sent me clothes for tomorrow? Popping the lid off, I paused. Inside the container, wrapped in tissue paper, was a silk dress the same shade of red as the garden roses. Silver lined the open back, and when I lifted it high to see the length, I whistled. Unless I missed something, I don’t think my mother expects me to wear THIS for the photo shoot.
Digging through the paper, I discovered a small receipt. Venus Fashion. That was the store I’d left Nova at while I’d run off to take care of something. If this is what she bought . . . Of course; whoever had unloaded all our shopping bags from the car had mixed things up, leaving this in my room instead of hers.
Pressing the receipt back into the tissue paper, I noticed there were more items in the box. Flaring my nostrils, I strung the lacy lingerie across my fingers. My mind was rapidly forming a mental image of this underwear cupping her perfect ass and pussy.
“Jesus,” I breathed out, shifting on the bed. My erection was swollen and hot against my thigh in my boxers. The wrongness of exploring her underwear was a perverse turn-on. She bought this while I wasn’t with her. Was she hoping to surprise me? After folding everything back into the box, I hoisted it under my arm. I had an excuse to go see Nova; of course I was going to use it.
Leaving my room, I wandered down the long hall. I didn’t know where she was staying exactly, but she’d told me, after we’d returned, that her quarters were in the east wing of the castle. Apparently her family was staying in the rooms they usually occupied when they visited Austere and Hester for the summer. That was why none of them had looked curious; they’d spent plenty of time in the castle in the past.
It was another advantage they had over me.
As I walked, I passed a servant here and there. They always nodded, making sure I saw they were acknowledging my presence. The coronation wasn’t for another two weeks, but it didn’t matter if there wasn’t a crown on my head; everyone knew I was the son of their long-lost would-be king, Maverick.
Clutching the box, I walked faster, cutting through the foyer. The front doors were shut. I could hear talking in the direction of the dining room through the doors under the stairs. My parents were catching up with all manner of important people, doing the work I had no desire
to.
The east wing was quiet. It looked just like any other hallway with its big paintings and old statues. If you let yourself, you could pretend you were back in the old days when this castle had been constructed.
Which room is hers? I could have sent a text, but I wanted to surprise her. Stopping in front of the first door I saw, I knocked softly. No answer. Moving down, I knocked on the next one. It went like that until I got to lucky door number four—that time, when I rapped my knuckles, I heard movement inside.
Bracing myself with the box in hand, I waited. The handle twitched; my heart copied it. But the person who peered out at me wasn’t Nova.
“Thorne?” Darla asked. She was dressed in a pink satin robe with a plunging neckline. Her long hair was damp, tugged into a messy bun. She looked around me, like she’d expected someone else. Her manicured eyebrows went up. “This is a surprise.”
“Ah, actually,” I started to say.
Her attention dashed to the box I held. “Oh! Did you bring me a gift?” Clasping her hands together like a little girl on Christmas, Darla grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me into the room. “Why are you standing there like that? Get in here.”
Digging my heels in was enough to keep her from yanking me through the doorway. Darla let go, her expression downshifting into one of disbelief. “I was looking for Nova.”
The bow shape of her mouth unfurled into an ugly frown. “Well, you found someone better. Maybe this is a happy accident.” Crossing her arms, she exaggerated the dramatic line of her cleavage. “You sure you don’t want to come inside? No one would have to know.”
“I’m flattered, but . . . I’d know.” My smile was crooked. “Can you point me to your sister’s room, please?”
Her honey-colored eyes turned darker. “What is it about Nova that you like so much? I can’t figure it out.” Her nails were knotting up in the fabric of her robe. I kept expecting the pink material to rip under the pressure.
She’s not used to being rejected. “Listen,” I said cautiously, “I’d rather not do this.”
“I asked because I want to know. I’m a big fucking girl, Hawthorne.”
The thing was, it didn’t matter if she could handle the truth . . . because I didn’t know what the damn truth was. How could I lay out in words, so plainly, the things that Nova did to me? She was my enemy—and she also wasn’t. That woman was nothing like the rest of the Valentines.
She’d raced to help someone who’d been robbed. She’d been keen on showing me how wonderful this country was. Nova had shared her secret spot with me . . . and she’d graced me with a kiss so explosive it had erased every other pair of lips I’d touched from history.
It was too soon to tell Nova why I was growing obsessed with her.
Telling someone like Darla was impossible.
“I really don’t know,” I said, shrugging absently.
“You don’t know?” she laughed cruelly. “I’m losing to my sister and you can’t even explain why.”
“This isn’t a competition.”
“Yes it is!” In the hallway her loud voice was enhanced. “Tell me her secret. Did she make you feel bad for her? Did she guilt you, going all, ‘Woe is me’?”
I went very still. “It sounds like you don’t know your sister very well.”
“Believe me,” she snorted, “I know her better than you do.”
“Hey,” a voice said behind me. I pivoted, seeing Nova was standing nearby. Her face was puzzled; she looked from me to Darla. “What’s going on here?”
Darla rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Good night.” She slammed her door, and I clenched my teeth at the awful sound.
Facing Nova, I gave a half shrug. “I think your sister might be—what’s the word—kind of a bitch?”
She was still staring at the door. Nova was dressed in a robe as Darla had been, but it was thick cotton, white, and not at all revealing. It still made my stomach do a flip. “Thorne, why are you in the east wing?”
“Can I say, ‘Because I missed you already’? Or is that too much?”
Nova smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “What’s the real reason?”
Chuckling warmly, I offered her the box. “This is yours. It was left in my room by accident.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Did you look inside?” she asked anxiously.
Remembering the sexy lingerie, I breathed in raggedly. “I didn’t mean to peek. I’m not sorry I did, though.” Pressing forward, I stood over her. I could smell jasmine soap from her recent shower. “Do you know how hot it is to realize what you’ll be wearing under your dress tomorrow?”
I was close enough to see the dip at the base of her throat flutter. “Do you like what I picked?”
“I fucking love it, Nova.”
Chewing at the edge of her lip, she took the box from me. “I wanted to surprise you.”
My hand cupped her cheek as I backed her against the castle wall. The hallway was dead around us. “You already have,” I whispered.
She trembled under my touch. Fuck, she made me feel so powerful. Trailing my lips on hers, I leaned back a few centimeters, enough so she couldn’t kiss me. Her frustrated groan scraped in my skull, it left me breathless, my cock jumping angrily in my pants.
I nipped the sensitive flesh behind her ear. Nova whimpered—threatening to undo all the control I had left. Gathering myself, I leaned away. Her skin was smooth and free of makeup, free of everything but the little bite mark I’d left on her throat. She seemed so vulnerable.
A flash of something wicked danced through my cells. I peeled open the box and tugged out the panties. Nova was frozen as she watched. “I like surprises,” I said, twisting the lace around my fingers. It vanished into my pocket. “But I like having my directions followed, too.” I brushed the box over her chest; she gasped, hugging it, taking it from me. “Tomorrow, don’t wear anything under your dress.”
“That’s . . . What if someone sees?”
“Don’t let them,” I laughed. “In fact, you better not let a single person catch a glimpse of that sweet pussy of yours. It’s for my eyes only.”
Her voice came out high and breathy. “You’re impossible.” Hugging the box, she half slid against the wall. Then, with one final look at me—a single, arousal-filled glance that made my shaft thicken—Nova entered her room.
She hadn’t said she’d follow my directions.
She didn’t need to.
The ecstasy in her eyes made me certain she would.
My dreams were filled with visions of rosy nipples and cinnamon eyes.
All impossibly seductive.
All belonging to Nova.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
That irritating noise jammed its way into my dream, prying the soft, sweet images away and leaving me with nothing but an early-morning headache. Cracking my weary lids, I stared around the room. It wasn’t familiar; it took me a second to remember I was in the castle.
The tapping came again. Who the hell is knocking? I wondered, throwing off my covers. I’d gone to sleep in just my boxers. My little chat with Nova had given me terrible blue balls. Taking care of that had kept me up for an extra hour.
Again, more loud knocking. “Hang on!” I shouted, snatching some pants off the back of a chair. I stumbled into them, barely clasping the top button before I ripped the door open. Standing outside was a young woman in a dark gray dress. Her blonde hair was braided over her shoulder, and a thin pair of glasses perched on her nose. “Morning, sir.”
Palming my forehead, I yawned until my jaw creaked. “What is it, what do you want so badly that you had to knock my door down?”
She offered me a slip of paper. It was thick, pale yellow card stock. On it was a scribbled list; I recognized my mother’s handwriting. “This is for you. It’s your schedule for the coming weeks.”
Rubbing my eyeballs, I squinted. “Dinner with the head of infrastructure . . . lunch with the stable master . . . croquet with the entire Maurine Symphony?” I read aloud. No
t a single day of the month wasn’t filled with shit. At the very bottom was an item that made me tense.
The Royal Wedding.
“Sir,” she said, hands folded primly in front of her. “Unless you need something else . . .”
“What?” I’d forgotten she was even there. “No. Just—I’m fine.” I waved a hand absently. “You can leave.”
Bowing her head, the woman whose name I never got left me alone. I crumpled the list into a firm ball and threw it in the corner. This was the same junk I’d rejected years ago and gone out of my way to sidestep. But there was no dark strip club to hide away in here.
I’d nearly shut the door when a new voice stopped me. “Thorne! Good, you’re awake,” my mother said, swinging her way inside. Even though it couldn’t possibly be past breakfast time, she was dressed to the nines in a sky-blue-and-magenta lace gown. Her hair was braided into a crown on her head, the sight of it reminding me of the coronation, of the list.
Swallowing my rising bile, I smiled at her. “You’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Ma.”
Closing the door, she beamed at me. She held a small box no bigger than a chocolate bar. Her attention went straight to the plastic bags full of merchandise in the corner. “I was going to see if you still needed me to have someone rush out and buy you something nice for today, but it looks like you bought an entire department store.”
“I’m wounded,” I said, putting a hand to my bare chest. “Do you think all of that is for me?” I fished in the bags and grabbed a medium-size box, then passed it to her. “No good son goes shopping without buying his mom something pretty.”
Her rouge lips thinned as her smile kept growing. “You didn’t!” She yanked the silver Louis Vuitton bracelet out, gasping. “It’s perfect. Just perfect.”
Stretching, I glanced over the pile, trying to remember which bag held my new clothes. “Anyway, don’t bother sending anyone out on some fancy suit quest. I bought an outfit for today, figured I needed something expensive-looking for the photos.”