Page 16 of Coronation (Royally Forbidden #1)

My heart is full as I stand with my hands resting on the fence, only looking away from the sheep to beam over my shoulder at the two men.

Benedict opens his mouth to say something, but the driver clears his throat significantly, and his words turn to a grim smile.

“A job well done, I believe,” he tells me, reaching out a hand.

I take it, allowing myself to be guided back into the car without complaint. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” I ask as we settle back into our respective seats .

This question earns me an amused look. “I’m not sure about fun . It was a break from the ordinary, at least.”

“What did you do before you were king?” I ask as the car begins moving again, leaving behind our newly acquired livestock friends. “Not a veterinarian, I’m guessing.”

This comment is met with a scoff. “God, no. I was a working royal, in a part-time capacity. Technically.”

The vagueness of the answer has me looking away, the corners of my lips pulling down unhappily. Am I allowed to call him out on his evasiveness? This is… what are we even doing here? I have no idea.

The past twenty-four hours have had enough twists and turns to fit into any script, and I haven’t worked out if it’s okay to be feeling quite so attached to a man I just met.

Whatever it is seems to be mutual, but there’s still a sliver of fear—likely planted during the icy switch he flipped last night—that I might be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.

A warm hand finds my face, guiding it around to meet a pair of intensely dark eyes.

“It’s nothing very exciting, darling,” he assures me calmly, correctly guessing the cause for my sudden silence.

“I sat on the board of several royal-sponsored organizations. My brother preferred me as a background figure.”

There’s a lot of subtext there, and if I were to hazard a guess, it would be that growing up as a prince came with some unique childhood trauma. While I’m endlessly curious, I keep my mouth shut, only nodding in acknowledgement.

Benedict’s hand finds my thigh, his fingertips brushing over the delicate skin just below the hem of my dress. “Never mind all that,” he tells me in a low rumble. “I believe we were having a discussion before the local livestock rudely interrupted.”

I’d forgotten, actually, but Ben obviously did not.

Behind him, more wild countryside flashes by outside the window, and in the time it takes me to compose myself, the heat in the back seat seems to have risen.

Significantly. “Was there another point you wanted to make?” I ask innocently, and my aching inner walls contract as his touch drifts another inch up my thigh, slipping beneath my dress.

“Come sit in my lap. I think showing is better than telling in this instance.” His voice has dropped, becoming something much closer to the low, gruff tone he used on me last night.

It feels dangerous how quickly my body responds to him, how easily I forget all about my apprehension of a few seconds ago, as I scramble over the center console to settle my thighs on either side of his.

In his trousers, Ben is already hard, the long, thick length of him straining against the material and pressing against my bare pussy.

I suck in an unsteady lungful of air at the delicious texture of the linen on my swollen clit.

“Good girl,” he grunts, lifting my dress over my breasts so he can see my body. Heat prickles beneath my skin as his gaze travels from my tightened nipples, down my stomach to the place where I’m now shamelessly squirming against him. “Lean back. Show me how wet you are.”

A weight drops into my core, and I know I must be blushing. Nobody has ever spoken to me this way before or asked me to… display myself for him. Even so, I obey, bracing both hands on his knees and tilting my body away so he can see every inch of my bare flesh, almost panting at how turned on I am.

It’s intoxicating to see the look of naked desire that crosses Ben’s handsome features before he schools it into something much more controlled. “I believe I asked you to show me , Zelda.”

He can’t mean… My cheeks burn, and my every breath is labored as I balance my weight on one hand, using the second to slip teasingly down my flat stomach to the throbbing cleft between my legs.

I keep my eyes on his face, cataloging every ti ny reaction as I use two fingers to part my slit and spread them into a V, allowing him to see how undeniably soaked I am.

Ben’s pupils dilate, and for a long moment, he seems to be unable to do anything but stare. Finally, when he’s had his fill, he looks up at me, and the animalistic hunger in his expression can no longer be contained. “Take my cock out. Now.”

The bossiness is totally doing it for me, and he definitely doesn’t need to tell me twice.

Practically panting, I lurch forward to fumble with the button and zipper of his trousers.

Both of us groan when they’re finally open and I can reach inside, wrapping my hand around the thick base of his cock.

God, it’s no wonder I’m so sore after taking this monster inside me—was it three times last night?

Four? At the moment, it doesn’t really matter, and I don’t really care. I want more.

Before I can commence begging, however, Ben’s hand finds my chin. Gripping it harshly, he forces my gaze to meet his, ensuring I can’t look away as he utters only two words. “Turn around.”

I blink, taken off guard. My bare pussy is inches from his cock, soaked and aching to be filled by him again.

I’m desperate to please him, though, so I do as he’s ordered me to, clambering awkwardly off his lap in the confined space.

When I go to straddle him backwards, my palms planted on the divider in front of us, Benedict stops me.

Instead, he grips my hip in one hand, guiding me slowly back into his lap.

His tip has barely breached my swollen, soaked entrance before I’m pulled down into his lap harshly, filled so suddenly that I cry out in shock. “Fuck,” I whimper, my well-used inner walls burning at the suddenness of his intrusion. “ Oh my god , Ben.”

“Relax,” comes the reproving order from the man behind me as he takes my knees in each hand, hooking them over his own. I’m totally at his mercy, spread wide open and impaled on his thick length. My toes don’t even skim the floor of the car.

I’m trying to relax, really, I am, but it’s kind of easier said than done given the position we’re in.

Ben isn’t moving, or giving any indication he’s planning to, and it’s torturous.

I ache for him to fuck me, to relieve some of the pressure twisting in my lower belly, but when I try to take matters into my own hands, squirming, a large hand clamps down on my hip, stopping me.

“Sit still, you little imp.” His beard brushes the shell of my ear, adding to the sensory overload. “Now, tell me. Did you have any more concerns about my age?”

A quiet cry escapes my lips, “No. Nope. Not at all. Please fuck me?” I whine, still trying to buck against his hold, and getting absolutely nowhere.

Benedict’s free hand moves between my thighs, cupping my pussy hard enough to provide pressure, but none of the friction I need.

“Patience, darling. It’s only a short drive to the house, and then we’ll be properly alone.

The only thing you need to do now is keep my cock warm.

Christ, you’re so worked up, aren’t you?

There’s going to be a fucking puddle in my lap when I pull you off. ”

My head drops back against his shoulder, rocking helplessly against the hand and cock keeping me in place.

I can’t think about anything other than getting him to drive in and out of me, to give me some relief from the frustration that is so intense I might actually cry.

“Ben, please ,” my voice breaks. “I can’t take it anymore?—”

His answering chuckle is silent, but rumbles through his chest and into my back. Two fingers bend to brush gently over my throbbing clit before parting my lips as he had me do to myself a few minutes ago, exposing my soaking wet, swollen pussy to the cool air of the car .

The noise I make is somewhere between a sob and a moan, and it makes the giant cock buried inside me twitch, betraying the effect this teasing is having on him, too.

“You can beg all you like; it won’t get you what you want.

You’ll thank me later. Just think how hard you’ll come when I get you on your hands and knees and pound this greedy little hole. ”

Another featherlight brush of fingers over my clit, and I swear I could come if he would go just a little harder.

He won’t, though. Ben keeps up the agonizing, soft touching, careful to keep me on the edge without allowing me even an inch past. His body is warm against my back, and every filthy, horny word he murmurs in my ear winds the coil of tension inside me tighter, making me need it more.

The car turns a corner, and Ben is forced to abandon his hold on my hip to brace his hand against the window, stopping us from tilting over. My head turns instinctively, and he catches my lips in a messy, frantic kiss.

“Jesus, such a good girl,” he utters when we break apart, his fingers resuming their torturously light strokes. “You’re so goddamn soaked for me. Do you like being used like this, darling? Do you like keeping my cock warm?”

“Ben,” I say, and I think it may be the only thing I can say. He’s everywhere ; inside my body and wrapped around it, the sound of his devastating voice in my ear and his taste on my lips. “Ben,” I cry. “Ben, Ben, Ben?—”

I’m totally unaware of how much time has passed since we started this, but it’s surreal to open my eyes and realize we’re now passing through a sleepy little village.

“Nearly there, I believe.” I’m rewarded with a sharp smack to my clit.

“I’m fucking obsessed with this cunt. The shit I want to do to it, darling, you’d be running the other direction if you knew. ”

His words are growing rougher and losing the polished, formal intonation he typically speaks with.

Even as gone as I am, I can tell he’s struggling, too, and I tighten my inner muscles over his cock.

There’s a low curse from the man behind me, so I do it again, then again, finding a rhythm.

I squeeze him over and over again, as the hand on my clit begins to shake.

“Zelda.” There is warning in his voice as he bands an arm around my waist, sealing us together more firmly as the car turns yet again. There’s nothing but trees outside, the car is slowing, though, and Ben’s grip on my waist is bruising.

I don’t stop. I keep up my tiny, torturous movements as the thick cock inside me swells impossibly larger.

He’s so close, as worked up as I am, and I want to make him come more than I want it for myself. Before I can, though, the car slows to a stop and both of us look around, staring out the window at a beautiful old manor house.