Washed Up Royal Page 4

  The look he gives me is electric and the air between the two of us is suddenly so thick, so hot, it has to be causing a ripple in the atmosphere. Then he picks up his bag and I swear my world is tilting. “Do you have any luggage?”

  I shake my head. “I wasn’t expecting to the spend the night.”

  “Then let’s go,” he growls.

  Side-by-side we walk to the desk in silence. The man even walks like sex on a stick. He has to be six-three, six-four, and his long, lean body exudes confidence and power with each stride.

  When we reach reception, he’s looking away, and I’m thankful. “Hi,” I tell the girl behind the counter. “I have a key to pick up. The name is Rachel Smart.”

  She opens a drawer. “Yes, Ms. Smart, it’s right here.”

  Accepting the card, I say, “Thank you,” and start walking.

  Adrien quickly catches up and opens the door for me. “I thought your name was Tori?” he asks, and I know he was listening even though it appeared he was uninterested.

  Stepping into the airport terminal, I look for the signs indicating the hotel. “Yes, it is. Rachel is my s—” I stop. I can’t lie, it’s not in my nature, so I tell a truth. “My single friend.”

  He points to the sign indicating to turn right, and we walk faster down the corridor. “So, is it your room or are you sharing it? I don’t really care to share, so I can get one if need be.”

  At only five-foot-eight myself and in flat sneakers, I have to look up, up, up. “No, it’s mine. I mean yes, it’s mine.” I’m so flustered. I’ve never been in a situation where I have to cover the truth. Finally, I sigh and just tell the truth. “Rachel decided to visit her mother in Saint Cloud.”

  The soccer player gives me the dirtiest smile and smugly leans down. “Then it’s a good thing for her your plane was delayed.”

  His eyes are dark and penetrating as I bite down on my lip and nod in agreement. “Yes, it is. She hasn’t seen her mother in a long time.”

  I feel those butterflies again and my steps slow, or maybe his pick up, but either way, I’m behind him staring at his broad, muscular back and gorgeous ass and never wanting this day to end.

  The thing is we both know the reason the delay is good isn’t because my friend got to have a family reunion. It’s because he and I get to have a union of our own, and not in the traditional sense.

  This will be a dirty union.

  And for once, I’m not going to mind getting filthy.

  THE F WORD

  She swipes the key into the reader and her hands tremble when she attempts to turn the knob. Impatient, I give the door a slight shove and it swings wide.

  As soon as we’re through the entrance, I whirl her around to take her mouth. Fuck, she wants me as much as I want her, and knowing this has my dick so stiff.

  Without losing our connection, we’re already at the bed by the time the door clicks shut. One of my hands goes to her ass and the other glides up her spine.

  I’m hungry.

  Eager.

  Way too ready.

  I push against her, my hard cock making her moan in the sweetest fucking way. Pressing against her softness even more, I shift my hand to the back of her neck to keep her from falling onto the bed.

  That will come soon, just not yet. First, I need to feel her. However, my loosely laid plans to run my palms all over every inch of her body come to an abrupt halt when she pulls back. “I have to use the restroom.”

  Leaning my forehead against hers, I frame her face with my hands and close my eyes to lick at her mouth just once before stepping back. “Hurry.”

  Tori grabs me by the collar and yanks me to her, so fiercely I almost laugh. But then I feel her shudder when she kisses me hard and I’m not laughing one bit. “I will,” she whispers. “I just need a minute.”

  Watching her ass as she pads across the carpet and into the bathroom, I can’t stop the groan that escapes my throat, and I find myself biting my fist to shut the hell up.

  In the doorway, she reaches back to take one Converse off, then the other, and then glances back. “I really won’t be long.”

  Fuck, why was that sexy?

  With a nod, I plunge my hands into my pockets. “I’m here.”

  The room is like any other hotel room I’ve been in before, but with her not so far away from me, it seems brighter for some reason. The door closes behind her and I take off my own sneakers and socks. Then, in order to pass time, I scan the tarmac, and not for the first time, wonder what the fuck I’m doing with my life.

  First, considering a crazy-ass job and then using cheesy lines to pick up a girl. What the hell? I don’t pick up chicks. They pick me up, and I don’t have to charm my way into their pants, either.

  Tori, though, fuck, she is sweet and innocent, although she’s trying to hide it, and I want a taste of her. Fuck, I want more than a taste. I want to fuck her more than I’ve wanted to fuck any woman in a long time. It’s probably because of what I’m about to embark on or maybe it’s because it has been way too long since I felt my own heart beat when I was with a woman.

  I shake the thought away.

  One night.

  This night.

  I need it.

  But just this one time with her.

  That’s all I have to give.

  The door opens and I jerk my head in her direction. Her long dark hair tumbles around her shoulders like a dream and she’s wearing a white bra and white lace panties. Not the skimpiest I’ve seen but fuck, on her, they might just be the sexiest I’ve ever seen.

  And those lips, like velvet pockets, so soft, so inviting, I can’t wait to put my mouth on them again.

  “Come here, sweet thing.”

  With slow, cautious steps, she crosses the room. Her smile is bright when she’s finally standing in front of me. Getting on her toes, she whispers, “Tell me what you want to do to me again.”

  I twist my index finger around a strand of her hair and smirk. “I want to fuck you, hard.” She shivers and I have to grin wider. “You don’t say the word fuck, very often. Do you?”

  There’s a tinge of pink on her cheeks when she replies, “No. I never use the F-word.”

  With my finger holding her hair tighter, I draw her closer. “Tell me you want me to fuck you right now.”

  Her breath is a whisper. “I want you right now.”

  Letting go of her hair, I place both my hands on her ass, pressing my cock against her, and then I shake my head, my own hair falling forward over my eyes. “That’s not what I want to hear, and you know it.”

  Hesitation has her doe eyes going wide.

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you to fuck me,” she says, voice pitched low but still audible.

  “Again. Say it again.”

  Shaking her head no, she almost desperately pushes my shirt off and presses her body to mine. The heat from her skin seeps into mine, and I forget all about corrupting this sweet thing. Every bone in my body going tight with need.

  Oh, fuck, what is she doing to me?

  I glide my hands over the delicate caps of her shoulders and drag them down her arms, making her jump.

  My pulse thunders some strange beat.

  I know arousal. I know desire. I know lust. This is something more, all three, and something different, more carnal.

  It’s like I’m standing on a cliff and preparing to dive without knowing how deep the water is. I’m flying in a plane and ready to jump without a parachute. I’m at the top of a mountain and skiing down with my eyes closed.

  This is everything reckless I’ve ever done—all at once.

  Feeling out of control and needing to break this invisible tether telling me not to get attached, I whirl her around and lean forward to speak into her ear, “Sweet thing, I’m going to rock your world.”

  “I hope so,” she tells me, low enough I almost don’t hear it.

  My hands find her breasts, small, but just big enough to make my mouth water, and then my lips bru
sh her earlobe and I tell her, “Trust me, hope isn’t needed.”

  She turns her head to bring her mouth close to my ear. “Good, because I don’t really believe in hope, anyway.”

  There is so much in that statement I want to know but nothing I should. Ignoring the need to ask her about it, I place her hands up so her palms are flat against the cool glass window. “Don’t move,” I tell her, and I can hear that my own voice is tight, low, thick with need.

  Making sure all the lights are off so no one will see us, I head for my wallet in my bag and grab a bunch of condoms. Back near her, I drop the foil packages on the credenza beside us and shove out of my track pants.

  After resuming my position behind her, I move between her thighs, my fingers skating down her sides and over her hips. Shivers lift over all her delicate skin that shines in the light rays of the dim moon.

  With a shudder, she presses her forehead against the window and opens her thighs for me. Desperate to get inside her, I spread them wider by sliding my feet between hers and pushing hers apart.

  Making sure she’s ready, my fingers press against her pussy through the now-damp fabric of her panties, and then satisfied, I drag my fingers around the silk and slip them inside her. “Fuck,” I mutter when my flesh meets hers. “You’re so tight and so wet.”

  “Oh, God,” she moans in response as I move inside her.

  Testing her responsiveness, I stroke a finger along her folds and press my chin into her shoulder to mouth her ear.

  Her responding moan gets my blood pumping but when she tilts her head to the side to allow me access to her neck and her fingers curl against the cool glass, finding nothing to grab, my body goes into overdrive.

  Ripping the panties from her body, she gasps in surprise but moans even louder when my palms caress the slight curves of her ass and then make their way around to her pussy for my fingers to play.

  Fuck, her skin is so smooth. I breathe in and in and in, forgetting to let the air from my lungs out, until it hisses from between my lips in a long, shuddering groan. “I can’t wait to have you.”

  Her gasps fill the air with a warm buzz. “Adrien.” The way she says my name sounds so sweet. “I can’t wait, either.”

  I fumble toward the table for one of the condoms I’d taken out, tear the wrapper, and then reach down to roll it on. I find myself wincing when my hand makes contact with my dick. I’m so fucking hard and so close to coming that even my own touch is pushing me over the edge. Seriously, what the fuck?

  “Are you all right?” she whispers.

  “I will be,” I tell her, then press my cock against her, nudging it along the seam of her ass and down toward her entrance.

  Dipping down, then up, I push inside her slow inch by slow inch and mutter, “Fuck,” when I bite down on her shoulder.

  She cries out in pleasure and presses her body back against mine. Quickly, we find a rhythm. I slap my palms against the glass to move faster and she moves with me. Back when I move forward and up when I move down. This is fucking. Hard. Fast. Raw.

  “Christ, you’re hot,” I murmur.

  Anchoring my hands to her hips to keep her from moving, I slow the pace to long, smooth strokes. Then, after a few moments, I rock faster again. Harder. Slipping one hand around to her front to press against her clit in time to my thrusts.

  As soon as I do, Tori gives a strangled cry, letting out the most erotic sounds. She isn’t a quiet lover, and as I thrust in and out of her, I listen to the multitude of sexy as hell sounds slipping from her lips. “Oh, God,” she cries out, “That’s it. Don’t stop,” and I can feel her start to pulse around my cock. “Harder. Faster. More.”

  “How close are you to coming again?” I ask, breathing through my nose as I try to maintain my own control.

  “Close,” she whispers. “Oh, God, so close. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  “I’m not fucking stopping,” I bite out. “In fact, I’m going to go harder, so brace yourself, sweet thing, I’m about ready to explode.”

  “Please,” she says, her voice nothing more than a rasp. “Do me harder.”

  That I can do. I withdraw, enjoying the sensuous slide from her body, and then I slam forward and begin thrusting hard and deep.

  Faster.

  Harder.

  Faster.

  Harder.

  Fuck, my eyes are rolling back in my head. I’ve never felt anything so goddamn good in my life. A roar begins to explode in my ears and my blood thunders through my veins.

  Tori fades in front of me and the room dims as agonizing pleasure blasts throughout my entire body.

  “Jesus,” I grit out. “You feel so fucking good.”

  “You too,” she gasps, and then she cries out, “I’m coming. Oh, God, I’m coming,” and the sounds of her orgasm are as sweet as she is.

  Knowing she’s found her release, I pound into her, the force of my thrusts causing the window to shake. In the glass I can see her face, and it is nothing but pure erotic pleasure. That look causes need to splinter through me. Hot and wild, my own orgasm strikes, starting in my balls and then shooting straight up my cock, exploding in a sharp burst.

  Riding the precipice of my own orgasm, I think about how I wanted to take my time with her. That plan was shot to hell, too. But I couldn’t. Not this time.

  No worries. We’ll do this again and again. As long as the night is. On the bed, in the shower, wherever, and I will feast on her, enjoy her, feed her my cock, make her remember me, even though forgetting is what we will both have to do come morning.

  And as the pressure of the best fucking release I’ve ever had subsides, I think what a fucking shame having to forget is.

  IT’S EASIER THIS WAY

  He’s fallen asleep and I need to leave, but I want to see his jarring blue eyes on me one more time.

  Irrational.

  Yes.

  Princesses do not stare.

  Slowly, I make myself get out of bed and dress. Then I put my shoes on and poorly attempt to pull my newly dyed dark locks back into place. Even though I don’t make a lot of noise, he still stirs, and my heart leaps for that one silly reason.

  Hope.

  Princesses don’t hope, they do.

  When I creep closer to stand over him, the sight of his dark hair, those long, muscled limbs, and smooth, sun-burnished skin makes my fingers curl with the need to touch him. He has bruises here and there, and I want to kiss each one of them. Stay with him a little longer and find out how he got them. Delay my trip for another day or two. Postpone my life.

  Irresponsible.

  Princesses have a duty.

  The early morning sun filters through the glass of the hotel room window and dapples him with specks of light. I stare at him for the longest time and find myself pondering that word hope.

  Ridiculous.

  My father’s voice is in my head.

  Royals don’t hope, they do.

  He used to tell me that over and over. Right. He’s right. I don’t hope, I do. And I have a lot to do before I can take his place.

  Just as I’m about to pivot on my toes and leave, Adrien moves. I freeze, because those butterflies I felt yesterday are back. I can’t believe I still feel them even after he had his hands all over my naked body. Just then he flings an arm over his head and the sheet slides down to reveal his naked body. Oh, God, I can’t stop my breath from catching and my pulse from racing.

  Without rationally thinking anything through, I lean down to study him, memorize him, because I want the image in my mind to last forever.

  Those abs. They are so ripped I can trace the indentations with my fingers.

  Those thighs. They are so muscled; his strength has to be that of Hercules.

  And that V leading low, I can’t even.

  Fast as sin, he reaches out and grabs me. Surprised, I gasp with a giggle when he pulls me onto the bed. I’m breathless when he rolls on top of me and stares down at me with those mesmerizing eyes. Pinning both my w
rists over my head with one of his calloused hands, I feel anything but imprisoned. In fact, my toes curl in my sneakers.

  Heaven.

  His head lowers and his warm breath tickles me. His mouth is near my ear when he says, “What are you doing?”

  The only thing between us is the fabric of my clothes and I can feel him getting hard already. “Watching you sleep,” I tell him, squirming beneath his incredible naked body.

  Adrien stretches me. It hurts a little, and for some crazy reason, I like this kind of pain. Just like how I enjoy the feel of his free hand as it inches up the hem of my blouse. When he finds my nipples pebbling for him, he groans. “And why are you watching me sleep?”

  “Because I have to go,” I tell him just before his questing fingers tweak my nipples and that tinge of pain causes a sharp inhale of pure pleasure.

  His grin tips the corners of his mouth. Cocky. Arrogant. Smug. Sexy as hell. “Do you typically watch men sleep instead of waking them up to say goodbye?”

  Suddenly my cheeks are flaming red. “No, not usually.”

  He lowers his mouth to mine but doesn’t kiss me. “Then you must agree, it’s somewhat creepy?”

  Laughing, I crane my neck to meet his lips and kiss him, but he pulls away, as if waiting for my answer. “Yes, I agree,” I whisper. “I just wasn’t sure I should wake you. Goodbyes seem so final.”

  His heat and hardness are at my hip. I feel him. All of him. But when he looks down at me with those deep navy eyes, and the dark fringe of his lashes sweeps down as he closes them, I also feel an odd sadness between us.

  Opening them, he seems resigned to that finality because his warmth fades and all of a sudden he seems so very far away. And then, just like that, he pushes off of me and right off the bed, too. “I’ll be right back.”

  With conflicting emotions violently batting around that organ in my chest, I roll to my side and watch his toned bum as he strides into the bathroom.

  He is perfect.

  Devine.

  God-like.

  And I want him again and again and again. My one-night stand could very well be everything I’ve been looking for my entire life, but I can’t really have him.