My Royal Temptation / Ruined. Riley Pine
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me in thorough detail. If you teach me well, perhaps you’ll get a handsome reward.” She palms me over the wet denim of my jeans. “I’m a quick study and also quite good at taking direction.”
I decide right then and there that despite what she’s been hired to do—and how much I detest the thought of finding a bride—I love being around this most surprising woman.
Wait...love? The word doesn’t belong anywhere in my vocabulary. This is no good. My heart better go sit its ass in a corner. I clear my throat. “You want to know how to suck a dick? Very well. First, the woman in question needs to crave it. I want her to approach my cock like it’s a chocolate fucking fudge sundae and she hasn’t eaten in a week.”
Her lids flutter. “Go on.”
Shit. I can talk dirty in five languages, but I’ve never given an explicit lesson in the art of performing a blow job. And believe me—it is a goddamn art. “I need some encouragement,” I tell her, my voice growing hoarse with need. “A little inspiration.”
She arches a brow. “And how can I do that?”
I pretend to think it over. “Are you wearing a matching set?”
She nods with a shy smile. “I do own the bra to match my pink lace panties,” she says, then licks her lips. “But I didn’t wear it today.”
My throat thickens. And if it’s at all possible, my cock grows even harder, and I want nothing more than for her to rip my jeans from my legs. Mission accomplished, Miss Winter. The image of what lies beneath her drenched clothing will inspire me for days and nights to come.
What can I say? Kate Winter is my fucking muse. Literally.
“Shall we continue with the lesson?” I ask.
“Please,” she says. “It’s been a while since—well, I think I mentioned yesterday that it’s been a while. Period.”
I bury the surge of jealousy at the thought of her mouth on any other man and decide to give her exactly what she’s asking for—so that she may give it to me.
“Outside of a sixty-nine, I prefer to stand,” I tell her, already imagining her kneeling before me. “Gives me good control and a great view. Hands are important. Use them. I love a mouth on me, but touch is a must. Stroke my shaft. Massage my sac. Gradually increase the tempo. That’s when I’ll need some tongue on the tip, swirling and sucking like I’m your favorite flavor of Popsicle.”
She rolls her eyes. “Cool it with the food references. You’re making me hungry.” Her tone is teasing, but I can tell from the way her pupils dilate that she is soaked.
“Never use your teeth. Simply lick and swirl until you’re ready.”
“For what?” She sounds drugged.
“To take me as deep as you can go. A gentleman never crams his cock into a lady’s throat. He waits, patiently, but what he wants is for her to suck him down. And all the while, hold eye contact. Trust me on this. A guy loves it when you take it all and let him see how much you love every inch.”
She runs a hand over her hair. “And for the end?”
“Swallow,” I say bluntly and shrug. She asked, so I might as well give her the truth.
“I’ve never done that,” she whispers. “I’ve always been too intimidated.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” I tell her quickly. Again it comes, that inexplicable need to make her feel safe. “It’s just...you asked what’s the best. That is the best, Pet. Nothing like it.”
She stays quiet for a long moment. Long enough that I start to wonder if I’ve pissed her off—or even worse, scared her from even wanting to try.
“Stand, Sire,” she finally says, and I obey without question. She stands too, stepping forward to close the narrow distance between us, all the while keeping her gaze locked to my face.
Then she sinks to her goddamn knees.
“I’ve never mixed business and pleasure.” She reaches to undo my fly. “But this is my most important job yet, so perhaps I should ensure you get the royal treatment.”
My hands fist in her hair, and I know from the determined look in her eyes that I’m about to be destroyed.
Kate
His jeans are snug against his hard, muscled thighs, and despite them being soaked in the river, it only takes me seconds to pull them to his ankles.
My nipples peak against my cold, wet top, and I wonder if he knows how close to the edge I already am. Just from his words. It was never like this with Jean-Luc, and as soon as the thought enters my mind, I’m awash in a wave of guilt. How dare I compare what I’m about to do to a man I met yesterday to a man I’d planned to be with for the rest of my life?
And yet it’s the truth.
I loved my fiancé, but I can’t recall wanting him with this sort of hunger. I’d always felt performing oral sex to be more of an obligation than anything else. And he had always finished so quickly that I never knew what he really liked.
But I want to taste Nikolai so badly that my pulse throbs between my legs.
I start by placing a soft kiss on his inner thigh, then shift my heavy gaze to his.
“More,” he says, and my core tightens at the command.
I kiss his other thigh, this time a little higher up, and I have to grab his backside to steady myself.
He lets out a groan.
“Hands,” he says, his voice tight, and I do believe I’ve made it difficult for my prince to speak.
I look up at him and grin, releasing his ass with my right hand so I can cup his balls. Then, without warning, I swirl my tongue over his tip, the precum salty on my taste buds. We both moan.
His hands tug at my hair, and I move my own to join my mouth, taking him deeper as he slides slick through my palm.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Yes, Pet. More. Goddamn, I need more.”
My clit swells at the sound of his need, a delicious, aching pulse between my thighs, and I can’t hold back a whimper as he sinks deeper into my mouth, as I let the taste of him fill me.
Deeper and faster, my hand grips his throbbing shaft, and I feel his thighs begin to shake. I hold his gaze as I bury him to the hilt, and for the brief moment when he begins to teeter over the edge, I see past the facade to a brokenness that draws me further into his orbit.
He shudders and growls. I swallow his release, an intimate connection I never knew was possible. I back away, ready to force my trembling limbs to stand, but he collapses to his knees in front of me.
His hands cup my cheeks, and he stares into my eyes. Without a word he kisses me so hard and deep I can barely catch my breath. He lowers me to the ground, wordless still, his lips never leaving mine. His hand slides beneath my blouse, and I buck against him as he pinches my sensitive peak.
We are animals, communicating with nothing other than our shared savage need, and I need this. I need his hands on me, in me—I need Nikolai Lorentz everywhere. And because we speak the same language, he knows, and I find him wrenching my pants from my hips, down to my knees, all the while his tongue tangling with mine.
Finally, when two fingers plunge inside me, immediately hitting the right spot, I call out his name in an overwhelming torrent of sensation.
“Nikolai!”
And then I finally close my eyes and see nothing but stars.
* * *
I’m nothing short of a mess when we make our way to the road and find X waiting outside the Rolls. Nikolai, despite his dip in the river as well, looks nothing short of spectacular. Or maybe that’s all I can see after what he’s done to me.