Royally Not Ready(109)

“Good morning,” I say as I stretch my arms above my head, allowing the blanket to slip down to my waist. His eyes roam my chest. I move the blankets from me and hop out of bed. Walking up to him, I wrap his tie around my hand and say, “You left me this morning.” I peck him on the jaw.

“I didn’t want to startle Runa.” His hand lands on my side. “But it seems you might’ve given her a show?” His mouth lowers to my neck, where he trails kisses.

“Mmm, I did.” I grip him tightly. “But I wish you were the one who found me in bed, naked, instead of her.”

His palm lowers to my ass, which he gives a good squeeze. “Fuck, you’re so warm.”

“And you look incredibly hot in this suit,” I whisper as I kiss his throat. “But I must shower. Care to join me?”

“I’m already dressed for the day.”

“That’s the great thing about clothes,” I say as I pull him toward the bathroom by his tie. “You can take them off and put them back on.”

“Lilly,” he groans. “I shouldn’t even be in here. I thought you were dressed when Runa told me to come in.”

“Runa blasted my retinas by flipping open the curtains like a mad woman. I was still dreaming about you.”

“Dreaming about me?” he asks as I move to the shower and turn it on. “What kind of dream?”

“Oh, you know, the sexual kind,” I say as I go to the sink and brush my teeth. Keller leans against the wall, his eyes never straying from me.

“Yeah? What was I doing to you?”

I spit into the sink and rinse my mouth before heading to the shower. “You were fucking me in the shower.”

“Liar,” he says. “You’re just saying that to entice me.”

“Is it working?”

“No,” he answers, even though I know he’s lying. He’s already set down his folder and removed his suit jacket while loosening his tie.

The shower is almost like the one in Harrogate, round, tub-like, but built entirely of tile with no door or curtain. The showerhead is above me, acting as a rain shower and a detachable shower, but there’s zero privacy, which is what I want right now.

I step under the water and turn toward him so he can watch the water drip down the front of my body.

I don’t bother looking at him. I focus on washing myself because I know that’s all it will take. I start with my hair, puffing out my chest the whole time. When I rinse out the shampoo, I make sure to moan quietly while parting my lips. And I do the same thing with my conditioner. When it comes to soaping up my body, I take the bar of soap provided and slowly move it all over my skin, making sure to spend extra time on my breasts.

By the time I turn off the water and glance at Keller, he’s at the sink now, gripping the counter’s edge tightly, the veins in his neck firing off.

A towel awaits me on the heated towel rack, and I wrap it around my body, secure it under my arm, and then walk over to him, placing my hand on his obvious, bulging erection.

His eyes fall to mine, and before he can say anything, I drop down to my knees and undo his pants. He hisses when I take his cock out of his briefs, and when I wrap my mouth around the tip, his chest expands, and his head falls back.

“Fuck, Lilly. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I do believe work hasn’t started yet, therefore, if I want to suck your cock, I will.”

He grips my jaw and says, “But I dictate when and where.”

“Are you going to deny me your cock?” I blink up at him and see the indecision waver in his eyes.

Just when I think he’s going to tell me to stand, he wraps his hand around my wet hair and says, “Suck me. But when I say stop, you listen.”

“Yes, my King,” I say. And as usually happens when I call him that, he takes a deep breath.

Pleased, I take him into my mouth again, and my hands fall to the base of his length, where I tug, drawing pleasure up his shaft.

I watch as he sags against the counter, guiding me with his hold, relaxing when he’s usually very rigid, very uptight. But he must know I need this connection as much as he does. To start the day, I need to know that I’m his. I need to feel his touch. I need to feel him inside of me.

I roll my tongue over his head, sucking hard and then drawing him into the back of my throat.

“Fuck, Lilly, you’re so good.” He moves my head over his dick, dragging himself in deeper and deeper until he hits the back of my throat. He pulls me away and gives me a moment to breathe. His thumb passes over my cheek. Then he brings me back to the tip and I suck him even harder, pulling a groan from his throat.

So sexy.

Such a turn-on.

I can bring this man to his knees with just my mouth. I feel so empowered.

While my mouth and one hand pump over his length, I cup his balls with my other hand and carefully palm them, rolling them around in a deliberate rhythm.

His muscular thighs quiver.

His hand grows tighter in my hair.

And when I release him, only to flick the underside of his cock with my tongue—something I know he loves—he groans, which echoes in the bathroom.

“Enough,” he says, tugging on my hair.

Even though I don’t want to stop, even though I desperately want to finish him off with my mouth, I listen.