Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(161)
When it’s over he yanks me to my feet and pulls me against him, and kisses me hard. I yield to it, rising on my toes to melt into him, running my hands over his skin.
“That is the last time you kneel for me,” he purrs, stroking my hair.
“What if I want to?” I say, batting my eyelashes at him.
I pull back and turn slowly, giving him a full view of my ass as I pace to the bed and summon every ounce of my inner vixen to entice him to follow. I lie on my side and stroke the featherbed next to me. Come here, big boy.
He sheds the last of his clothes and climbs into bed. I cry out and giggle when he grabs my legs, forces me onto my back, and spreads my thighs apart. He grabs my panties and rips them apart, throwing the shreds apart, and dives between my legs.
Oh God. I knot my fingers in his silky hair as his tongue glides over my thigh, working toward my *. My legs shake at just the thought of it. Just when I think he’s going to put his mouth on me he pulls back and cups my ass in his hands, squeezing. I buck my hips up at him, pleading silently. Come on, do it.
One little lick and I melt into the bed. He sticks his tongue out and drags it over my mound, letting me watch. I smile a dopey smile and my eyes go lidded as he goes to work, tasting every delicate inch of my throbbing *. When he starts to work my clit, I groan.
“Your prince commands you come for him,” he purrs.
“Yes,” I whimper, clutching his hair.
Now, do it, please. He buries his face in me and I writhe on the bed, driven to higher and higher planes of ecstasy. I’m just on the edge when I yank on his hair.
“Fuck me, oh please f*ck me f*ck me f*ck me f*ck me!”
He rises over top of me, planting his hands on my shoulders, shoving me down on the bed. The sight of his rock-hard cock fills me with lust and anticipation and fear, and I feel my body clench, trying to grip him even before he enters me.
“It’s my wedding night,” I whisper, stroking my nails down his chest. “I think I’m supposed to plead with you to be gentle.”
“Oh?”
I lock my legs around him and pull him toward me. “Fuck gentle, nail me to the wall.”
His cock head spreads my lips and enters me just barely and then he rams home all at once, and I can’t contain myself and cry out, arching under him as he shoves me down into the bed with his weight. He thrusts into me and growls.
“Such a perfect princess outside, such a little slut in here.”
I giggle and rake him with my nails. Come on, my prince. Fuck me.
His thrusts make the bed creak, which is no mean feet. He almost hurts me, just on the edge of pleasure turning into pain, and I pay him back with my nails and teeth, egging him on as my pleasure skyrockets with every thrust. When I think it’s over he pulls out of me, grabs my hips, and turns me over.
He yanks me to him, our bodies joining again in a single thrust. I get up on my hands and knees and throw myself back at him, impaling myself on his cock as he grabs my hair and pulls, arching my back as he grasps my neck with his other hand.
Oh God, I can’t take much more. He falls on top of me, presses me down onto the bed, and lies on top of me, his whole body jerking in hammering thrusts. He squeezes my hands and presses his cheek against mine. Tears stream down my cheeks and mingle with sweat. My hair is sopping wet, stuck to my skin. I feel like I’m melting into a puddle.
So good.
My legs splay out and my eyes roll back as I tumble over the edge, carried away on a tide of pleasure. The surging climax squeezes my body tight and lets go, only to come again, each one more intense than the last, until I’m quivering and whimpering and can barely breathe. When he finally explodes inside me I jerk and shudder, too exhausted to do more than lie there and moan.
Kristoff wraps his arms around me. He pulls me onto my side with him, so his cock is still inside me. I wriggle my hips and press against him, my sweaty back sticking to his chest. He flicks my nipple and my whole body jerks, and he starts laughing, wild and free, like a young man. I feel young, too. I start giggling and it turns into a gale of laughter and I wiggle my butt against him, using my * to tweak his still-sensitive cock. Payback for my nipple, you jerk.
He wraps the covers around us and sets my crown on the bed next to me, turning and fiddling with it with his fingers.
“You look glorious in your crown, my lady.”
I think addressing him as my lord husband is a little silly, but it’s too cute not to. Unfortunately all I can manage is an mmmm. It’s going to be a few minutes before I can summon my voice.
He finally draws out of me and I turn around to face him, lying in his arms. I like sniffing him after he f*cks me. I bury my face in his armpit and breathe in, and he playfully pushes at me and tickles my ribs, trying to stop me. We end up rolling around on the bed until we’re wrapped in the covers and I’m leaning on his chest, my chin propped on my hand as I admire him.
Like an overexcited boy, he can’t keep his hands from my chest. It’s like every time he puts his hands there he’s shocked to discover that I have boobs, and he squeezes them like it’s the first time he’s ever touched them. I slip my legs around him and bend down to kiss him and his hands wrap around my back.
He doesn’t have to tell me, I just know. He likes the feeling of the soft weight of my breasts on his chest, and he likes it when I tense my stomach and grind on him, rubbing myself against his stomach. My ginger-red pubes absolutely fascinate him, as do my freckles.