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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jade

I’ve never been so brazen in my life.

But Royal isn’t the type of man you can be too timid with. He’s the kind of guy who’ll eat you alive. Both physically and emotionally. If I’m going to be with him—in whatever capacity he’ll allow—I have to show him I can give as good as I can get.

My body hums with the memory of his body on mine.

Around mine.

Inside of mine.

“Take them off,” I say, lifting my hips so he can get my pants down. He takes my panties with them and then I’m naked. And he’s still almost fully dressed.

I press my knees together.

“Your shirt,” I rasp. “I like the view.”

One side of his mouth tilts up in a wicked smile. “That so?”

He slowly, almost painfully, pulls it over his head.

“Now pants.”

His eyes never leave mine as he drops them—along with his boxers.

Oh jiminy crickets, I love his penis.

I can’t wait to feel it inside me again.

But first, his tongue.

And when he drops to his knees in front of me, my world is reduced to nothing but the expectation of what’s to come—and the man before me.

The dark—but incredibly sensual—look in his eyes as he moves between my legs.

The way his unruly hair falls forward when he leans in, tickling the inside of my thigh.

The heat from his mouth as he presses a soft kiss there, then along the crease of my thigh, my pubic bone.

“You wet for me, Shortcake?”

My cheeks flush, but I nod, admit, “So wet.”

“Hmm. I see that.” He’s staring down at the most intimate part of me, and yet I feel no embarrassment. This moment is everything I want it to be—and I know he feels the same just by the look on his face. He’s normally so surly and closed off, but in this case, his face is the mirror of his soul. I know exactly what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, just by how he looks at me.

With one finger, he gently traces a path between my legs, spreading the evidence of my desire around. I’m so turned on, my body completely in sync with his touch, it’s hard to think. I like how it feels when he’s touching me. Especially down there.

He leans in and drags his lips across my skin and then—oh sweet Jesus, that’s good. His tongue is warm and wet against my swollen flesh, and I arch up to get more.

“Wait, baby…let me enjoy this—and you.” His voice is gruff, as if taking his time is painful, and I sigh with a combination of excitement and frustration. I want more, but I want to slow everything down at the same time so this moment lasts longer.

“Oh!” My hips buck of their own volition when he sucks my clit into his mouth, but he presses me back down with the flat of his hand on my abdomen.

When he licks a trail down my slit, there’s nothing I can do but go along for the ride. He’s patient and skilled, as if he already knows everything I like. Because he does. His mouth, his lips—it’s like every part of him is completely in tune with every part of me.

He dips a finger inside me, then two, moving them in tandem with his tongue.

“Oh, please!” I cry out, anxious for release. Doing it myself doesn’t compare to how it feels when he makes me come, and my fingers find their way into his hair—something I’ve noticed I do a lot—tugging with urgency.

I feel his rumble of laughter against me, but he doesn’t stop or pick up the pace—just continues his lazy, sensual assault on me. It feels amazing, but it’s also sexier than anything I’ve ever done before, watching his dark head buried between my legs. And the sounds he’s making—like I’m a delicious meal and he can’t get enough—turn my insides to mush.

“Come on my tongue, baby,” he orders, moving faster, deeper.

That’s so hot, and I want to taste what he’s tasting, but there’s no time to ask because my orgasm is racing out of me like a freight train. I buck and writhe, making sounds I’m not sure I could ever replicate, and screaming his name.

“That’s my beautiful girl,” he rasps as I come down, lifting his head with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Then, before I can process what’s happening, he sheaths himself with a condom and slides his cock against my slick entrance.

“Royal.” I whimper, grasping his hips, tugging him closer. “Touch me—kiss me!”

I lift my torso as he leans in and our mouths lock together greedily.

And when I taste myself on his tongue, the tangy flavor turns me on all over again.

“Please—do it now, Royal,” I plead against his lips.

“Do what, baby? Can you say the word?”

I shake my head, biting my lip.

I’ve used the F word one time in my entire life. That was the day my grandmother taught me about speaking like a lady. And though I desperately want to whisper all the dirty words, I’m not sure I can.

“Please…” I reiterate. “ Please .”

He pauses, the tip of his cock paused right at the edge of my entrance, and he smiles. “Okay, beautiful—we’ll do it your way. This time .”

Then he slides in, one excruciating inch at a time, his eyes never leaving mine.

Oh. My. God.

Memories from the last time we made love come rushing back, and there’s no mistaking the rush of liquid between my legs. I love how this feels, and I wiggle into a position that makes it more comfortable to accommodate his girth. He’s huge and beautiful and hard and silky, and he’s stretching me wide.

“You like that, Shortcake?” His eyes glitter with utter… adoration .

I can see it, feel it, know it. Whether it’s real or just a moment of sexual perfection, I can’t be sure, but right now—every part of him is mine. And I’m going to hang on to that as long as I can.

“Royal.” I dig my nails down his back, pulling him closer. “Make love to me.”

“We might have to save that for next time,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m hanging on by a thread right now. Fucking might be all I can give…”

“That’s okay.” I tilt my hips, taking him even deeper, and his eyes roll back in his head. “I’ll be fast too.”

“Fuck, baby, I can’t—” He pulls back and slams back into me.

“Yes!”

“Can you take more?” he growls.

“Yes-yes-yes!”

There’s no holding back or slowing down or taking our time.

This train is barreling down the track at full speed, my second orgasm imminent.

“Royal, I’m so close,” I moan.

“You gonna cream all over my cock for me, Shortcake?”

“Yesss…” The word is drawn out as he pulls out again. Right to the tip.

“Look at me when you come,” he growls. “Because I’m going to teach that sweet pussy who it belongs to.”

This time I’m pretty sure it’s my eyes that roll back in my head because—no matter what my brain is saying—my pussy most certainly wants to be his. Along with the rest of me.

“Royal!” He glides in and out a few times, watching my face, and then picks up speed.

“That’s it, Jade…take it all…” He moves faster, pumping harder, hands on my breasts as he takes us over the edge.

“Yes!” A cry leaves my throat, even louder than the last, and I’m lost in a sea of endless pleasure. Endless need. Endless power.

That’s the only word I can think of in the moment.

This is powerful, what we have.

And he knows it too because he collapses against me, boneless and drained, resting the side of his face on my shoulder.

“You are absolutely perfect,” he whispers gruffly, enunciating each word carefully. “Every inch of you.”

My heart stutters with pleasure—a different kind than what I just experienced.

How does he do this to me every time?

I don’t want this feeling to end, but I also need things between us to be honest. I can’t be with him any other way.

There can’t be any games and we can’t play with emotions this strong, no matter how much he may try to deny what’s happening between us.

“I’m sorry about before,” I whisper, winding my arms around him.

“Before?” He doesn’t move, his breath warm against my skin.

“When we argued about the song, I stormed off. I shouldn’t have behaved like?—”

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” he interrupts. “It was thoughtless. I was just…frustrated. But not with you.”

“With yourself?” I gently stroke his hair, enjoying the feel of the silky strands between my fingers. Have I ever played with a guy’s hair before? I don't think so. But I love touching Royal’s.

“That’s a pretty common state for me,” he admits.

“You don’t have to be frustrated when you’re with me,” I say. “I know who you are, no matter how hard you try to hide.”

To my surprise, he very slowly lifts his head, searching my face in the semi-darkness.

The look we share leaves me with so much I want to say, but somehow, it doesn’t seem necessary. There’s something in the air that tells me everything I need to know.

“I believe you,” is all he says before dropping his lips to mine.