Page 38 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

Creeping up the backstairs

KEIR

I snuck into the house in the wee hours by taxi from the palace. Yes, even princes could take a taxi ride. That was what you needed to do when you overstayed the night before in the room of a devilish blonde you’d fucked over a desk and then up against the wall before finally retreating to the bed. I was having far too much fun with Ingrid but wanted to keep the peace at home.

I crept up the backstairs, changed, and looked fresh for breakfast. No one even asked if I’d slept there that night. And, as long as Leah didn’t squawk, I was home free. If someone knew, they didn’t say much. Instead, I got out of it scot-free. This lack of consequences only increased my desire to be more reckless. We boarded a cruise around Oslofjord with all the other royals. It was another excuse to see Ingrid.

I approached her on deck, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and kissing her cheek. She faced me.

“Hello again.”

“Hello. You look beautiful in this dress. What is this?”

“Versace,” Ingrid said.

“It’s hot as hell.”

Her tits looked great, and the blue in the dress brought out the colour in her eyes. We were supposed to cruise, take in the light fading, and head back to port.

“I’m bored,” I said. “Fancy running off?”

She shook her head. “Keir, we cannot just run off to shag without impunity all the time.”

“So far, so good.”

She bit her lip, thinking about it. If she was thinking about it, she wanted to do it. Usually, if Ingrid wanted to do something—or someone--she would.

“Be quick about it,” Ingrid said.

I wasn’t about to full-on fuck her here. I hoped to get the satisfaction of getting her off in a hallway or something. The fear of potential discovery made it all more exciting, but she was plenty good enough. We disappeared below deck into a stateroom where we snogged like horny teens at the cinema. Then, things got hotter, full of longing, and more intense. She hopped up onto the bed but didn’t lie back. Instead, she wrapped her legs around me. Ingrid’s breath picked up. I pulled her dress down to suck on her nipple. She whimpered, and I knew she must be dripping through her knickers.

She took my hand and slipped it up her dress, pressing it to her clit. Through her panties, I could tell she was soaking.

“Let’s take these off,” I said.

“Okay. But I don’t want you to fuck up my hair,” Ingrid said. “I do want you to get me off. But don’t destroy my hair.”

I thought about options momentarily before saying, “Why don’t you sit on my face?”

Her jaw dropped. “I’m… I’m sorry…. What?”

I ran my hand through her hair, gripping it by her scalp. “Are you too scandalised to trust me, princess?”

“I… I don’t know how?”

I let her go, climbing on the bed. I reclined and reached out for her hand. She held back, still confused or scandalised.

“Trust me. You’re going to leave here very happy.”

Ingrid didn’t respond verbally but took her knickers off—a signal she gave over to whatever I was about to do to her. Or, instead, what she would do to me .

“We really shouldn’t do this,” Ingrid said, voice soft.

She wasn’t saying no. Her desire overrode any worries she had. But that guilt kicked in.

“Do you want to be a good girl?”

“Is that good? Like you saying devastating, horrid things to me in a church?” She straddled me, her body now pressing into my very hard, very obvious erection.

Debating her was torturous. Her tits in this dress were so fabulous. I thought about what it would feel like to throw her on the bed—how they’d nearly hit her in the face and how her face would flush. Fucking her with a dress on was a treat—one that made me feel like I corrupted her in the best way.

“I don’t pretend to be good. I also think you should suspend your Catholic guilt for a minute so I can give you an amazing orgasm.”

She bit her lip and nervously played with her hair, further drawing this out. I couldn’t wait any longer. Playing cat and mouse was only fun for a minute. I was not only impatient but also aware that the clock was ticking. Desperate to move it along, I pulled her up.

“Hold onto the headboard and sit on my face,” I said—not asking but telling.

“I… I cannot. Won’t it like… kill you?”

I snickered and smacked her tight little arse, “No. Try it. I want to taste you. I want you to make an absolute mess on my face. Just drown me, Ingrid.”

Like the obedient girl she occasionally was, she followed orders. I would have liked to look up at her, but her skirt was in the way. Still, the fact that I couldn’t see her only heightened the moment. I’d never climbed under a woman’s dress to go down on her. It was naughty. I didn’t need to see her to read her satisfaction.

As I licked and sucked, my tongue tracing around her clit and entrance, she moaned. Her pussy ground against me in a beautiful, slow, hot rhythm. I heard her breathe quicken—faster and faster. I imagined the flush creeping up her breasts to her face and her fingers digging into the headboard. She grew wetter and wetter, impossibly warm and slick. The evidence of her pleasure dripped down my chin.

She ground faster and harder against my tongue as she came closer and closer to her climax. She was whimpering now, pleading with some force in French to end the torture of waiting. Her cries to the universe always drove me mad. She had the most beautiful voice when she was in the throes of ecstasy.

“Oh God, just… I want to… please, please,” she cried. “It feels too good! Don’t stop!”

I wouldn’t. Not now.

In English, she gasped, “Oh God, Keir, I’m… I’m cumming!”

She squealed unintelligibly and braced through her orgasm.

Sweet satisfaction .

There was little as good as getting this woman off. I couldn’t explain why. I wasn’t a selfish lover. I prided myself on satisfying any woman I fell into bed with. Still, this was different. Maybe it was the surprise of it or her sheer gratitude? Perhaps it was because she went from innocent to deviant with a flick of my tongue? I didn’t quite know.

Ingrid descended, sitting on the bed beside me, assembling herself. Still catching her breath, still flushed, she was beautiful.

“You’re amazing but badly behaved, Keir.”

“You’re the one who just fucked my face until completion,” I said.