Paper Princess (The Royals #1)(83)

He lifts his head and gives me a wicked look. “We can’t have that.” Then he boosts me out of the pool and drags me to the pool house.



* * *



Breathless, we tumble onto the couch, then Reed rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him so I’m straddling his thighs. We’re both soaking wet, but I don’t care that my hair is dripping water all over his bare chest. I’m too busy moaning because his hands are tugging on my bikini top and his hips are rocking up against me.

He pulls at the strings around my neck and back, and my bikini falls off. Heat instantly floods his gaze. “I wanted you from the second I saw you,” he confesses.

“Really?” I tease. “You mean when I walked into your house for the first time and you stood up at the railing glaring at me?”

“Oh yeah. You came in dressed like a hobo, with that flannel shirt buttoned all the way to your neck and your eyes blazing up at me. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I think we have different definitions of hot.”

He laughs.

Speaking of hot, his chest is on fire, burning my palms as I stroke his pecs. When I lean down to kiss him, he responds so eagerly that it takes my breath away. Our lips fit perfectly. I run my hands over his chest and his breath sucks in. The muscles there quiver beneath my fingertips.

I love knowing that I’m the one turning him on. I’m turning on Reed Royal, the guy who scowls instead of smiles, who keeps his emotions under lock and key, hiding them from the world.

He’s not hiding anything right now. His desire for me is written all over his face. I can feel it when he presses against me.

I bend my head to kiss him again and he makes me gasp by sucking on my tongue. Then he makes me moan by using his thumbs to toy with my nipples.

Breathing hard, I lean into his palms, and a frustrated noise leaves his mouth.

“I’m being selfish again,” he mutters.

“I like it when you’re selfish,” I breathe.

He gives a strangled laugh, then rolls us over again and slips one hand inside my bathing suit bottoms.

“I wanna make you feel good.” His lips find mine, and a zing of pleasure races through me. I close my eyes and ride the incredible waves of sensation until we’re both breathing hard enough to fog up every pane of glass in the pool house.

“Reed.” His name shudders out as my surroundings fade. My brain shuts down. All I can do is let the soaring pleasure take over.

When I crash back to earth, he’s grinning at me, looking mighty pleased with himself.

I narrow my eyes, wanting to smack him for having the power to make me lose control like that, but that’s a stupid thought, because oh my God, that felt good.

But it wouldn’t hurt to level the playing field a little. I shove him so that he’s flat on his back again. Then I start kissing his chest. Every glorious inch of it.

Reed’s breathing grows unsteady. When my lips travel down to the waistband of his trunks, he tenses up. I lift my head to check his expression. It’s tight with anticipation.

My fingers shake as I toy with his waistband. “Reed?”

“Mmm?” His eyes are closed now.

“Can you teach me how to…um…” I mumble out a vague, “…you know.”

His eyes snap open. To my annoyance, he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Ah. Yeah…sure.”

I bristle. “Yeah, sure? I don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“I want.” He answers so comically fast that I’m the one laughing now. “I really, really want.” He quickly eases his board shorts down.

My heart pounds as I bring my mouth close to him. I want do to this right, but because I can feel him watching me, self-consciousness makes me want to run.

“You’ve really never done this?” he says hoarsely.

I shake my head. For some reason, he looks really upset by that. “What’s wrong?” My forehead creases when his expression grows even more tortured.

“I’m such an asshole. All the stuff I said to you on the yacht… You should hate me, Ella.”

“But I don’t.” I rub my hand along his knee. “Teach me how to make it good for you.”

“It’s already good.” His eyes are hazy, and he cups the back of my head, gently threading his fingers through my hair. His other hand reaches for one of mine and he slowly wraps my fingers around him. “Use your hand, too,” he whispers.

I give a little pump. “Like that?”

“Yeah, like that. That’s…good…”

Feeling bolder, I take the tip of him in my mouth and suck. He almost jerks off the couch. “That’s even better,” he growls.

I smile against him, enjoying the noises he’s making. I might not have experience but I hope my enthusiasm makes up for it because I really want to make him feel good. I want him to lose control.

He keeps stroking my hair and I get my wish sooner rather than later. He comes apart beneath me, trembling wildly, and when I crawl up his body afterward, he holds me tight to him and says, “I don’t deserve this.”

I want to ask him what he means, but I don’t get the chance. Loud pounding on one of the glass doors interrupts us.

“Little sis! Big bro! Banging time’s over.” It’s Easton, and he’s laughing hysterically as he hammers his fist against the glass.