Royal Pain

by Tracy Wolff

  She deserves more than I can give her, more than the irresponsible spare trying so desperately not to be the heir.

  For a moment, just a moment, I think about pulling away. About giving up all this dangerous, decadent pleasure that suddenly feels as necessary to me as breathing. But then Savvy gasps out a plea, a brazen, broken demand that grabs on to me with feral claws and yanks me back under. And I know—God help me, I know—that not even the threat of hurting Savvy and dragging her down with me can make me stop what’s happening here.

  Using my free hand, I reach behind her and free the back clasp of her bra. Then I let go of her wrists just long enough to rip the thing off. I have to taste her, have to feel her lush, gorgeous nipples in my mouth, have to devour her before I implode.

  Sinking to my knees in front of her, I relish the feel of her hands digging deep into my hair, enjoy the sharp tug on my scalp. The little pinches of pain that only make the pleasure sweeter.

  Then I forget everything but the ecstasy of her body as I bury my face between her breasts in what is very close to a frenzy. I reach for restraint, but it eludes me, slipping through my fingers like quicksilver. Then I reach for patience, for delicacy, but with this woman, I have none. Not now, not this time.

  Instead, I latch onto her nipple and suck it hard into my mouth.

  Savvy whimpers, her fingers flexing convulsively in my hair. For a moment I fear that I’m being too rough, that I’ve crossed the thin line between pleasure and pain that I like to flirt with on occasion. But her hips are moving, shifting, pumping restlessly against me, and I know she’s with me all the way.

  It’s enough to tell me that she’s still here, with me. That she still wants what I want.

  I bite down softly on her nipple, ready to take her deeper into the maelstrom of desire that’s grabbed us by the throats. But when she moans my name and clutches at me, I’m the one who goes under.

  Chapter 20

  Savvy

  I gasp, tremble, try to press myself even closer to the hard, muscular warmth of Kian. He’s killing me with his patience, killing me with his ability to hold off his own need so that he can stoke mine. He did it the other night and he’s doing it again now and all I want, all I need, is him on the brink of ripping his clothes off like he did mine and fucking me like I so desperately need him to.

  Instead, I get patient, thorough Kian who’s determined to put me through my paces and is acting like he has all the time in the world.

  The bastard.

  But, God, no matter how frustrating it is—and the answer is very—all the little details feel good. He feels good against me, so good that I’m close to losing it completely if he doesn’t do something soon. And by something I mean more than stoking the flame, more than driving me crazy. I mean fucking me. I mean slamming himself inside of me and making me forget how temporary this is, and how fast he’ll be gone when he’s ready to move on.

  But I’m not going to think about that now, not going to worry about a nebulous future when he feels so good against me. So strong and caring and sexy. And when he bites sharply at the underside of my breast—so sharply that I’m sure I’ll have a bruise—I’m afraid I’m going to lose it completely. Afraid I’m going to come before I ever get to feel him inside of me.

  He’s barely touched me and already I’m trembling on the brink of orgasm, ready to fly over the edge at the slightest provocation.

  “Hurry,” I urge him, trying to fight it, trying to hang on to this side of control with bruised and battered fingertips.

  But I’ve wanted him since we sat down on that balcony at the gala and no matter how many times I told myself it was wrong, told myself that it shouldn’t happen, that I’m done with important and powerful men—and am especially done with this family—here I am. Wrapped up in Kian’s arms and begging him for more. Begging him for everything he has to give me, and more.

  And now that I’ve given in, now that I’ve said to hell with being safe and protecting myself from pain, I want to feel everything, experience everything that Kian has to offer me. I want to kiss him, taste him, fuck him, want to have a quickie right here against this wall but also want to make this last forever.

  And though I haven’t said a word about what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, Kian seems to know. To sense it. To understand my need to draw this out and make it last forever. Or at least as long as we need for bodies and emotions to reconcile.

  Or maybe this is just the kind of lover he is, slow and thorough and determined to draw every last ounce of response out of me. Whatever is driving him, I’m grateful. And determined to enjoy the ride as long as it lasts.

  But then Kian bends to my breast, nips at my areola, and my body wigs out, a scream of frustrated need welling up inside of me. I bite it down, hold it back, because if he knows how much this hurts he’ll finish me off. And I’m not ready for this to end, not ready to lose myself in pleasure so intense it blinds me to everything, including the look and feel and taste of Kian.

  But when he bites me again, then carefully laves the sting until only the memory of it remains, I lose the fight. No man should be so tender and so controlling, so selfless and so domineering all at the same time. How am I supposed to resist him? How am I supposed to keep from falling for him harder than I ever did for his brother?

  Already, my relationship with Garrett seems like it happened a long time ago, to someone else. And what I felt for him? What he made me feel? It’s nothing compared to what Kian pulls out of me so easily.

  The knowledge scares me a little, but it’s too late to turn back. Too late to try to save myself. I can’t. Not now, and maybe not ever.

  I don’t know how I got here. It seemed like such an easy thing—like the right thing to do—to rescue him at the gala when everyone wanted a piece of him. How was I to know that it would lead here, to me falling for Kian? For Garrett’s brother?

  It’s such a Gossip Girl thing to do…especially when this can’t turn out any better than my relationship with Garrett did. I’m still a commoner and he’s a prince, for God’s sake. This can’t end anywhere good.

  The thought tears at me a little, but I shove it down, ignore it, as I clutch his head to my breast and relish the soft, sweet brushes of his tongue and lips. Because no matter how hard the landing is going to be, there’s nothing on earth that’s going to make me miss this ride.

  “Kian,” I whimper as he nibbles his way across the vulnerable underside of my breast. “Please. I need you.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he moves to my other breast. “I’m just getting started.”

  “Please,” I gasp again, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as I sob out his name. Suddenly, my body isn’t mine to command anymore, my voice and thoughts and movements taken over entirely by his mouth, his touch. By him and his indomitable will.

  Kian shifts then, once again catching my wrists in his strong hands. Then he pulls them forward, clasping them in front of my body with one hand.

  “What are you—” I’m out of it, my head fuzzy as I try to figure out what he’s doing.

  “Look.” His voice is deep and gravelly, nearly unfamiliar in his desire. I feel a sharp rush of pleasure at the thought that I’ve done this to him, that I have driven this gorgeous, brilliant, amazing man so crazy with lust that he can barely speak.

  I follow his gaze and am transfixed—much as he was—by what I see in the dim light. He’s captured my wrists in such a way that my arms frame my breasts, plumping the already full mounds up and out for his pleasure.

  For my pleasure, too, because already I can feel the increase of blood flow to the constricted area. But he isn’t done, the hand on my wrists tightening so that my arms squeeze my breasts even more tightly. They actually sting, the air chafing my sensitive skin and too-tight nipples.

  “You’re beautiful, Savvy,” he tells me, eyes wide in lascivious appreciation. “So goddamn beautiful.”

  I feel beautiful when he looks at me like that, wh
en he touches me and holds me and strokes me like I’m the only woman in the world. I know it’s a lie, know he’ll probably be with another woman long before I’m ready to let him go, but right now I can’t bring myself to care. Not when he’s looking at me like I’m his whole world.

  Kian leans forward, pressing himself against me until the strength of his chest and shoulders is the only thing keeping me upright. Then he bends his head and takes my nipple into his mouth.

  He sucks me deep and I gasp, beg for mercy. But he has none as he bites and licks, sucks and nuzzles me straight into ecstasy.

  Wrapped up in the incredible heat burning through me, the climax catches me by surprise. Though I’d known I was close—so close—I hadn’t expected to hurtle over with nothing but the touch of his mouth on my breast.

  But there’s a roaring in my head, a fuzziness that overtakes me as a freight train of pleasure slams through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and it leaves me with no choice but to hang on for the ride.

  My body convulses again and again, wave after wave of ecstasy shooting through me, sizzling along my nerve endings, lighting me like Christmas and New Year’s Eve all rolled into one.

  And then I’m flying, soaring, dissolving into the endless night sky.

  I come back to earth slowly, more than a little shocked by how high he took me. I’ve never felt like that before, never been so opened up and vulnerable. It makes me nervous, makes me uncertain—about the amount of pleasure he brought me so easily and the willingness I have to drop right into him. To give him anything and everything that he wants from me without worrying about the consequences.

  Nothing I’ve ever felt before, nothing anyone has ever done to me, could possibly have prepared me for these moments with Kian. Not even last night, when he made me come again and again, felt like this.

  Nothing ever has, and I’m terrified nothing ever will again.

  The thought chills me, has me withdrawing into myself. But Kian isn’t putting up with that. Instead, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tightly against him as he kisses his way across my bare stomach.

  “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says.

  I stir against him, trying to fight down the panic. Trying to tell myself that this doesn’t have to matter, that he won’t break me like Garrett did.

  Abruptly, he pulls away, tilting his head up until those crazy green eyes of his are blazing straight into my own.

  “Savvy,” he asks, his voice still husky with desire. “Are you okay?”

  And just that easily, I relax. Hearing him say my name, knowing I’m more to him than some nameless, faceless crown chaser soothes me as nothing else could have.

  “More than okay,” I tease, dancing my fingers over the gorgeous ink that covers his arm. I want to touch him, to explore every inch of his sexy, beautiful body before he walks away. Before the chance is lost to me forever.

  “When do I get to touch?” I ask.

  “After I’ve gotten my fill.” His fingers go to the waistband of my shorts, start to unbutton them.

  “You haven’t yet?” I ask as I help him shimmy my shorts over my hips to fall on the ground. Then I lose the ability to talk as he kisses his way over my abdomen to the top of my lacy bikini panties.

  “Not even close. Two nights with you will never be enough.” He runs a finger under the lace, teases the light dusting of curls at the apex of my thighs. “Open your legs.”

  I obey instantly, the commanding note in his voice sending shivers down my spine. Still, much as I want him inside me, I want something else more. “I want to touch you, feel you—” Last night wasn’t enough for me, either.

  “Oh, you will baby. You will.” He slides his hand lower, strokes his way over my mons and down my sex.

  I tremble, my body teetering on the edge of a second orgasm from no more than that simple touch. “Kian,” I gasp his name, an agony of need welling up inside me.

  But he just laughs, a soft, gentle expulsion of air that has my sex clenching and heat sweeping across my belly.

  Just that easily, I shatter again. Driven beyond thinking, beyond rationality, beyond logic, I clutch at his shoulders. Then I turn my head and sink my teeth into the only part of him I can reach—the biceps of the arm that is holding me pinned against the wall.

  Chapter 21

  Kian

  I freeze at the feel of her teeth sinking into my flesh. For one second, two, I’m motionless, held in place by a desire so fierce it borders on obsession. Then Savvy moans and strokes her tongue along my inked-up biceps and the spell is broken.

  And just that easily, so is my resolve.

  I had planned to spend the night petting her, touching her, gentling her to orgasm after orgasm—she more than deserves that kind of care from me after I ran out on her this morning. But there’s no way I’m going to last all night, no way I’m going to last more than a few more minutes before burying myself deep inside of her.

  Determined to give her all that I can in those minutes—and to make her come at least once more before I slide inside of her—I let go of her wrist and crouch down. I bring both of my hands to rest on her bare thighs and coax her into opening her legs.

  Moving slowly, giving her time to come down a little, I slide a finger along the edge of her black lace panties. Then I lean forward and do the same thing with my tongue, licking along the edge of lace and relishing each gasp and shiver I elicit.

  “Do you have more of these, sweetheart?” I pull at the waistband a little before allowing it to snap back against her bikini line with a satisfying smack.

  “Yes.” It’s a gasp, and a barely coherent one at that.

  “I’m glad.” I smile then, let her see the wicked promise in my eyes. Then lean forward and rip the thing to shreds.

  She gasps and my grin grows wider, even as a powerful surge of need tears through me. This is what I’ve been thinking about nonstop all day.

  Savvy, hot and wet, her skin flushed a sexy pink.

  Incoherent with need.

  As desperate for me as I am for her.

  “Please. Kian.” She moves her hand to my chest. Plays with the edges of my tattoos. Strokes her way down my stomach until she gets to the waistband of my jeans.

  “I want you,” she whispers, bringing her hands back up to my shoulders where she clutches at me, pulls me closer.

  “Want isn’t enough,” I whisper to her, determined to push her as close to insanity as I am. “You have to need me the way I need you.”

  “I do!” It’s nearly a wail, one that turns to a high, keening cry as I nip at her inner thighs with my teeth. I love the sounds she makes then, and I nip and lick and kiss her over and over in an effort to get her to make them again. To make more.

  I’m losing my mind, drowning in the fount of her sensuality, and I want her to feel the same. Need her to be as desperate, as crazy, for me as I am for her.

  “Let’s see about that,” I taunt, darting my tongue out to run the length of her sex in one slow, long sweep. She tastes like strawberries and cream and rich, sweet honey. I delve deeper, wanting more of her. Wanting all of her.

  “Kian!” Her scream shatters the silence around us and pushes me up against the line I’ve been riding. “Kian, please. Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”

  I love the pleading note in Savvy’s voice, love even more the breathless words spilling out of her throat. But it isn’t enough, isn’t near enough. I have a fleeting thought that it will never be enough, that I will want her like this forever. But then she moans, clutches at me, and the ability to think deserts me completely. All I can do is feel.

  The need that’s been building inside me from the moment I first laid eyes on her explodes, turns white-hot and dangerous. My breathing is shallow, my cock threatening to burst with one more touch from her.

  I push the desire down, fight it back. Savvy will come for me again, this time against my mouth. Only then, when she’s lost all control and in
hibitions, will I give in to the lust driving me to the brink of madness. Only then will I take her.

  Lifting her right leg, I drape it over my shoulder. She inhales sharply in surprise, tangles her fingers in my hair. I gentle her, angling my shoulders so that I can support her weight. Whisper to her everything I’m going to do to her. Then I lean forward and thrust my tongue as deeply inside of her as I can reach.

  She goes wild, her body thrashing against me as she arches her hips and clutches at me. I hold her still, stop the wicked bucking of her hips with a heavy hand on her stomach as I continue to take her higher. To take us both higher.

  She’s delicious, intoxicating, the sweetest honey I’ve ever known, and in that moment I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

  And suddenly, it scares me, this need I have for her. It has me pushing her higher, faster, deeper, in an effort to quiet all the noise raging around inside of me. It almost works, would have if she hadn’t cried out for me, grounding me in the middle of the maelstrom.

  “Kian!” It’s a plea, a demand, a cry for surcease, but I can’t stop. I have to have her, have to taste every drop of her sweetness, have to take every shudder and cry she will give me. Stroking deep, I concentrate on finding every sensitive spot and work to take her higher than she’s ever gone before.

  When she’s just about there, when she’s sobbing and pleading and I can tell that she won’t be able to take any more, I pull my tongue out of her luscious warmth. Then, slipping my hands beneath her ass, I lift her up higher, open her wider and wrap my lips gently around her clit.

  She screams then, her body arching violently as she comes, bucking so wildly that she almost dislodges me. But I hold on, using my tongue and teeth and lips to ride her through one climax and into another.

  I feel like a man possessed, utterly enchanted by, completely addicted to the exquisite feeling I get from giving her pleasure. I could stay like this forever, my cock throbbing and my mouth buried in her incredibly sweet, incredibly responsive sex.