“Tell me when you’re close,” he orders.
“I’m close,” I gasp almost immediately. “I need—”
He raises his head. His tongue leaves my clit and as soon as the pressure is gone, my building climax ebbs away. My whole pussy pulses.
“No,” I whine.
He was working me up, the bastard.
“I thought you were going to see how many times I can come.”
“I’ve decided on a new game.”
I reach for him, and he pushes me back down. His fingers go back to brushing my sensitive spots, so I subside against the polished surface of the dining table.
He plays with my pussy and massages the sensitive area around my rear pucker. I lift my head again when his finger probes too close.
“What are you doing?” I clench my bottom. My anal ring tightens. Royal keeps studying and rubbing my bottom hole.
“How does this feel?” he asks, like a doctor testing reflexes.
It feels amazing. Too amazing, for such a naughty spot. Heat floods my face.
“I'm going to test something,” he murmurs. I’m about to grab his head and shove him away when he bows and puts his whole mouth over my labia. His tongue thrusts into my sopping entrance. At the same time, he twists and dips his finger inside my ass. My orgasm rips through me. I plant my feet and shake. A few more licks and he's rearing up over me, ripping open his pants and exposing his huge, gorgeous cock. His hands tug my hips down to meet his. He rubs my slick center over his long length before spearing me.
I arch back, my body bowing on the table. Royal’s hand comes down on my breast, and for once, it’s rough. He squeezes my breast hard as his cock hits the perfect spot. My orgasm begins again.
Royal’s arms are planted on the table, his thrusts pushing me up the polished surface. His hair’s fallen in his face, his teeth are bared. He’s more ferocious and out of control than I’ve ever seen him.
At the last, he pulls out of my sopping pussy and grips my hips to hold me close.
His cum spurts onto my soft stomach. I gasp, my body jack-knifing with my final climax. Royal leans over me, holding my gaze as I tremble with aftershocks. His fingers come to my face, tracing my nose, my brows, my cheeks and, finally, rubbing my lower lip. I open my mouth and bite down on his thumb, gently. A shudder runs through him.
He pulls me into his lap. I sprawl against his chest as he dips his fingers in his cum, scooping it up and feeding it to me. I suck the salty fluid from his fingers.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I press my legs together, ready to orgasm again.
My head is swirling in the clouds. There’s a buzzing in the background—a long, low sound like an annoyed hornet. The oven timer.
I jolt. “The cookies!”
Royal closes his arms around me, his chest jerking with laughter.
I smack his arm. “How long has the timer been going off?”
“A while.” He holds me close when I would scramble off. “Relax. After you set the timer, I programmed the oven to turn off.”
“They still might be burned. I need to check them.”
“Later,” he growls, scooping me into his arms. “I’m not finished with you.”
5
Royal carries me up the stairs, back to the bedroom where he sets me on the bed. “Stay.”
I follow orders like a good girl, waiting while he disappears into the bathroom. I scoop my boobs back into my bralette and straighten the straps. My soft belly is sticky with Royal’s cum. I feel small in this magnificent room, a disheveled doll set in a richly appointed photoshoot spread in a high-end home living magazine.
Royal returns, and his brows knot together at the sight of me. In the aftermath of the orgasms, I’m wobbly, but I slide to my feet, fidgeting with the robe he gave me.
“What?” I ask, bracing myself for him to tell me he’s changed his mind and, snow or not, he’s ready for me to go.
“Come.” He proffers his hand. My foot catches on the fold of the oversized robe and I stumble. Royal’s there to catch me with a frown.
“Spiacente,” he apologizes. “I should dress you in a proper sized robe.”
“It’s okay. I kind of like it.”
We step inside the bathroom, and my eyes widen. In the darkness, candles glow, each one lit, tapers after tapers along the edge of a bathtub filled near to the brim with steaming water. The air is warm with the humidity the bath is giving off, and from the overabundance of glowing candles.
“What is this?” I breathe.
“A bath. I made you dirty, principessa. Now I’ll make you clean.”
He pulls me to the center of the room and then stops, turning to me. He unbuttons his long-sleeved shirt and pulls it off, leaving him in black slacks and an undershirt that bares his biceps. His muscles are hard and sleek, totally droolworthy.