Royal Affair (Royal Scandal #1)

by Parker Swift

  I pulled back to look at him. “I don’t want to find out, and if you want me to go along with this whole you-being-in-charge thing, you’d better deliver, Hale.”

  He smiled and inched his hand a fraction farther away from its destination, making me both hotter and more frustrated. He pulled the pin holding my hair up, and I could feel my hair loosening at my neck as he ran his fingers through it. I moaned. “Please, Dylan. You have me on the brink.” I buried myself in his shoulder, letting my hair cascade around my face, and I clamped my thighs shut, trying to curb his assault. He forced them open again with his strong hands and let a finger sink into me, making me gasp softly. I was so unbelievably close.

  He withdrew his finger and brought it to my lips, dampening them with my own wetness. “You see how wet this makes you, Lydia? Me in charge? Let me do this for you.” He kissed me softly and licked his own lips. “You taste so good.” I realized in that moment just how bossy, how controlling, he’d become in our sexy encounters. He needed it—something about him craved being in charge, but what shocked me was that I needed it too. I wanted it. I was fucking loving it. The car came to a stop, and he held me tight for a moment, while Lloyd rounded the car to open the door. Dylan put my hand firmly in his, and helped me out of the car. I could barely walk, my legs wobbly and numb in my current state. I could feel the evening’s cool air skate across my sex, and it made me shiver. He pulled me to his side, holding me, as though he were protecting me from the world, and took my keys from my hands to unlock the door.

  We weren’t a foot inside when he closed the door behind him and said, “Turn around, damsel,” indicating I should face away from him. I complied, and he slowly came up behind me, running his hands along my bare upper back and down my arms. He unzipped the dress and pulled it off my shoulders so it pooled at my feet. I was naked except for my insanely high heels. Grabbing my hips, he pulled my naked ass into his front, and I could feel his hardness pushing against the seam of his trousers. “Can you feel how much I want you? How much I want this?” he said firmly, increasing his grip on my hips, pulling me even closer.

  I tilted my head back and to the side to try to steal a glimpse of him, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His hands wrapped around and palmed my breasts. He pushed them in and up, molding them in his palms, and he began to tug at my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and finger, teasing them to the point where pain met pleasure.

  “I’m breaking all sorts of rules for you, aren’t I?” He was kissing my neck, sucking my skin, nipping it gently between his teeth, devouring me in motions that mimicked what he was doing to my breasts.

  “What rules have you broken for me?” I asked, practically whispering, searching for steadiness in my breath.

  He spun me around and lifted me by my ass in one swift move. I locked my ankles behind his back. “For starters I rarely sleep with the same woman twice, at least not in the same week. I don’t spend the night. Ever. And neither do the women I see. And I don’t invite women into my office. Ever. But I couldn’t resist with you. I’d been dreaming about having my mouth on that pretty pussy on that table for weeks. Picturing you just as you were.”

  “Did it live up to the dream?” I nuzzled into his cheek, desperate to get to a place where he was naked, where I could feel his skin on my skin.

  “The dream didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want you breaking any of your rules, would I? I mean, maybe we better stop now, and you could sleep on my sofa. Or you can get back on your horse—”

  “Not on your life, smartass.” He started to carry me upstairs, and when we reached the second floor, he paused. “Bedroom?”

  I pointed him in the right direction. My body was still pulsing, completely on edge from his fondling over the last hour. I was shivery, alert with anticipation.

  “Are you still sore?” he asked, the pads of his fingers grasping my ass as we walked and nearly grazing the sweet spot that was already trembling for him.

  “A little.”

  “Shall I make you sore again?” He laid me on the bed and began to undress himself with steady restraint, but the look in his eyes betrayed him. He was just as desperate to touch me as I was to touch him.

  “Yes, please.” Anticipation stretched my smile wide.

  “Roll over. On your hands and knees, baby.”

  I quickly complied.

  “Lean down, and perch that little ass in the air for me, Lydia. I want to see it in the moonlight.” I did as I was told. He stroked my ass for a moment, and then suddenly there was a resounding smack. He’d spanked me! Hard. Holy shit. I lurched forward but quickly regained my standing. I turned around to look at him, shocked. It had brought all my blood to the surface.

  He replied to my surprise with a sensual, stern look. “That was for the knickers.”

  I was still reeling from the palm of his hand, but I found myself wanting to push myself into him, onto him.

  “Holy shit,” I uttered, under my breath.

  “You want more.” He wasn’t asking. He could tell I did. “Soon. Right now, I’m going to take you from behind, and hard.”

  “God, yes.” I heard him fumbling with his pants and tearing at the condom wrapper. I felt his cock brushing my entrance, and I willed him to enter me. I didn’t think I could wait another moment. This whole evening of sensual torture had been leading me here, and I didn’t think he could take me hard enough.

  His hands glided from my shoulders down my back. He took in my whole ass with his hands, massaging it, and his thumbs ran down my crack, softly parting me as he went. It was as though he were examining me, appreciating every inch of me as his fingers tenderly grazed my skin. I leaned back into him, desperate for him to be inside me. He paused between my cheeks, skimming his thumb over the tender opening. “Have you ever enjoyed your ass, Lydia? Has anyone ever played with you here?”

  “No.” My heart rate picked up, and I turned to look at him nervously. What was he going to do? God, I needed him in me. Now. I was dripping for him, and much to my surprise his touch there ignited me further.

  “Good. I’ll be the first.” He ran a finger through my slit and slid the wetness up to where his thumb still pressed gently. He inserted the tip of his finger, just past the rosy opening. I gasped at the sudden intrusion. Was he going to do this now? He obviously sensed my surprise, because he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry. I’m only going to give you a taste.” And pushed his finger in a little farther. “Your ass is so beautiful.”

  The slight intrusion was so new, intense, and somehow set my clit on fire. I clenched my pussy in response. “That’s right, my sweet girl. I can feel you,” he said, his voice seductive and appreciative, like he was luxuriating in me.

  “Dylan. I’m throbbing for you. Please.” I’d sunk to my forearms, feeling weak with neediness, and I didn’t think I’d make it another minute without him inside me.

  “Happily.” He withdrew his finger and entered me in one quick move, pushing me forward with the force of his thrust. He was so deep this way, deeper than before. I could feel his balls brushing up against the lips of my entrance. “That’s right, baby, take all of me.” At this angle, he hit that fiery bundle of nerves inside me with every perfect thrust, and I could feel myself tightening, the coil stretching and shrinking, winding me tighter, bringing me closer with his every move. I hadn’t thought women could come from sex, but I had with him, and there was no doubt that that was where I was headed now. “You’re so sweet and wet. So tight.” He was breathing hard and slamming into me, ravishing me.

  “Keep going,” I cried in breathy bursts. I couldn’t get enough. His hands were gripping into my hips, and I could hear him slap against my ass. He pushed himself into me and pulled me back with every thrust in a perfect rhythm, intensifying each time. He was possessing me completely, as deeply as he could.

  “I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. I can’t get enough of you.” He mirrored my thoughts, and he gr
unted through his teeth, “You’re close, I can feel it. Come now, baby. Now!” And I did. I felt my body combust at his command, a chaotic shiver took hold of me, and everything went cloudy. I was lost in a haze of sweat, his smell, and my own body quaking beneath him. I fell to the duvet, and he fell with me, remaining deep inside me. He propped his weight up with one of his arms, and used the other to caress my back and ass, gliding his hand down my body in one long stroke. There was so much tenderness in his touch, so much care, as though he was checking me over after ravishing me so completely. He slid out of me and stepped back to quickly dispose of the condom. He came back to the bed and pulled me into his arms, cradling me as he leaned up against the headboard, stroking my hair. “You ok?” he asked as he kissed me softly on the top of my head.

  “Can’t you tell?” I murmured. “I’m so content right now, Dylan. So…sated. I never knew it would be like this.” I nuzzled into his chest.

  “And we’re just getting started. There’s so much more I’m going to do to you. I’m making it my mission to ruin you for anyone else.”

  “If sex is like this for everyone, I don’t really understand how anyone gets anything done.” I was here in my bed, in his arms, and marveling at his sexual expertise. I couldn’t imagine a life where this was a regular occurrence, but I was also beginning to not be able to imagine a life without it.

  “Then unless you stay stop, I’m going to keep going. I’m not done with you yet.” I could feel his smile in my hair. His arm tightened around me, and his other hand cupped between my legs, one finger slowly massaging my clit. “Or with this.”

  “Do your worst,” I said and smiled, completely relaxing in his arms.

  “What? No comments about voting and walking?”

  “Don’t be so surprised. I can play nice. I’m all yours.” I suddenly had never been so willing in my life, and my blood sang with excitement.

  “Yes, you are.” He lay down and pulled me with him, keeping our bodies locked together, me on my back and him sidled up against me on his side. His ministrations increased in intensity, and I bucked my hips, pushing myself into his palm. My breathing started to quicken and he sank two and then three fingers into me, stretching me, taunting me. “That’s right, my sweet girl,” he whispered into my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. I lifted my arms above my head and grabbed the pillow behind me, folding my elbows over my face, hiding my eyes as my insides began to quake. With his free hand he grabbed my wrists firmly and pulled them higher above my head, exposing my face to his. He locked them in place against the headboard, and I couldn’t budge. “Look at me. Look at me while you come,” he instructed firmly. I opened my eyes and my gaze met his. In that moment I came wildly into his hand, writhing beneath him, stuck in his hold.

  He slowly withdrew his fingers and rolled over on top of me, supporting himself on his forearms, continuing to lock my hands in his own, our faces nearly touching. “You’re all mine,” he said. And then his voice dropped, and more seriously he continued: “And you’ll do as I say.” Holy hell, it did something to me when he went all dominant, like my body was destined to do his bidding. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, his arms framing my face.

  Suddenly, he released me and shifted us around onto our sides, pulling me to his back, spooning me. “And right now, I want you to sleep.”

  “What?! You can’t hold out now!” My orgasm had left me needy for more. I was still tightly wound, and he could feel my resistance.

  “Can’t I?” he said, as he stroked my arm and side, bringing me down from my heightened arousal. “We have all of tomorrow, and I promise I’ll take care of you.” He wrapped me tightly against him, securing me in his arms, and I didn’t even remember drifting off.

  Chapter 18

  I blinked awake to the sun streaming in through my windows and to Dylan standing in the doorway, in boxer briefs, with two mugs of coffee. My god he was gorgeous. It was the first time I’d seen his near-naked body in the daylight, and he was as perfectly cut as he felt in the darkness. His briefs slung from hip to hip, bordering his six-pack abs. He was simply exquisite.

  “Like what you see?” He smirked, having caught me ogling.

  “You know you’re gorgeous.” I scoffed.

  He shrugged. “The benefits of having a personal trainer. Now, you—you’re actually beautiful.” He sauntered over, put one coffee down next to me, and pulled the covers away from me. I instinctively went to curl my knees up, covering myself in the daylight, but he scolded and pushed my knees firmly down. “I want to look at you. Don’t be embarrassed around me.”

  I growled. “You’re so pervy. You’re like the Earl of Perv.”

  He laughed. “The Marquess of Perv. Please. Be precise.”

  I giggled, trying to relax. I figured, Hey, if this is really what he wants—I embraced it and sat cross-legged, warming my hands with my cup of coffee. He sat next to me, facing me, taking me in and stroking my thigh, but he seemed thoughtful all of a sudden. “What? Did I say something?” I asked.

  “No. I just…I was just reminded of something my family needs me to do. I hate that shit.”

  “What shit?”

  “Forget it. My parents can be…relentless. That’s all.”

  “You strike me as someone who only does do what he wants.”

  He bristled. “It’s one thing to buck a parent’s request to have dinner, Lydia, but another to buck six centuries of tradition. You wouldn’t understand.” He was looking at me with determination, like he was going to will himself to ignore whatever had just come into his head.

  “Hey. Look.” I sat up and shifted away from him. “I’m sorry for touching a nerve, but—”

  He grabbed me and pulled me back. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sore subject. You didn’t deserve that.” He sighed, brushing his hand through his hair. “What is your family like?”

  I hated answering this question. It was bad enough when it was just a no-show mom, but now that my dad had died, it incited a level of pity, and even worse, discomfort in whoever had asked, which I couldn’t stand. But what was I going to do? Lie?

  “I don’t have any,” I replied and took a sip of my coffee. I still hadn’t figured out the best words to use when announcing this, but these clearly weren’t right, because he was too silent for too long.

  “What do you mean? What about your parents?” he asked, while cupping my shoulder, a touch that somehow communicated sympathy but also tension. This obviously wasn’t what he’d expected.

  “My mother hasn’t been in the picture since before I remember, and my dad died in April.”

  “That’s terrible,” he said, his hand pulling me closer.

  I was so relieved he hadn’t said he was sorry—I never knew how to reply to that one except to say it was ok, which of course it wasn’t.

  “He’d been sick for a long time,” I replied. I took another long sip of my coffee. He was silent again, looking reflective in a way that I didn’t understand.

  “That must have been awful,” he said sweetly. “Cancer?”

  I nodded. When I looked back to Dylan, he looked blank, staring out the window. I knew about the whole British reserve thing, and I’d probably just broken some unwritten English rule about never talking about such things. Well, at least it was out there.

  I left the bed and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. A moment later, Dylan was behind me, his arms wrapped around me. He leaned down and kissed my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I knew he would let me if I wanted to, but the truth was I didn’t want to. Not yet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to let him in that deep, or any deeper than he was already.

  “No.” I forced a smile. I put my toothbrush down and rested my hands over his, our naked bodies pressed together.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asked, kissing my neck.

  “You’re actually letting me decide something?”

  “I’m letting you make suggestions,” he replied, now holding my hair up as he tra
iled his kisses along the back of my neck.

  “Hmm, well, I want to see Primrose Hill,” I started, pausing to think. “Or the Portobello Road Market. I’ve been in London almost a week, and I feel like I haven’t seen anything apart from my office and the tube. And you.” He frowned, obviously surprised. Did he think it was lame? And suddenly I realized that I was supposed to have said something along the lines of Fuck me every which way until sundown. I had just slipped, fallen into an idea of us that was so obviously against his “just sex” rules.

  Eventually, he smiled. “Lydia…I know a lot of people in Primrose Hill—not a good idea. And the Market will be tricky. It’s a very public place.” His smile widened, and he continued, “I think we could make it work, though. Could be kind of fun, actually.” His chin rested on the top of my head, and he smiled at me in the mirror. He seemed settled on it all of a sudden, and I felt the tension in my gut release.

  “But first, shower,” he said, firmly grabbing my hips. He didn’t exactly mince words once he was decided.

  He turned on the shower and then faced me, standing at attention, condom in hand. As he tore through the package with his teeth, I brought myself flush against him and grabbed it. I stood on my tiptoes and planted a firm kiss on his lips. He looked at me, eyes wide. Without taking my eyes off of his, I slid my hands down between us and felt for him. And with only a little fumbling, I slid the condom onto his thickness.

  He tilted his head back. “Christ, Lydia.” I finished, and he looked at me with a fire in his eyes. “As much as I enjoyed that, do you have anything against going on birth control?”

  “Um, I don’t have anything against it. I just hadn’t thought about it.” But I was thinking about it now. And I couldn’t help but feel like it meant he thought we might be doing this for a while.