The Royals Next Door

He pulls his mouth away, damp from our kiss. “Piper,” he whispers, staring into my eyes, fevered with desire. I stare up at his lips, so lush and perfect. “I’m so proud of you.”

I give him a small smile, heat flaring inside my chest, tightening around my heart. “Proud of me?”

He reaches down and brushes his thumb under my lip. “Yes. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were going to change my world in some way. I knew that you were strong. That you were going to go places.”

“Technically I’m not going places. I just didn’t lose my job, that’s all, and all you knew was that I was stubborn as shit.”

He smiles and places a kiss at the corner of my mouth. “That last part might be true. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re able to do whatever you put your mind to. I think everyone on this island should be grateful that you’re the one teaching their kids, so that they can believe in themselves the same way.”

I swallow, feeling uncomfortable with the compliments. “I don’t always believe in myself.”

“No. But you do enough, because you know when you’re right, and you have the strength to follow through. And I believe in you. It may not matter for much, but I do.”

“Harrison,” I tell him, my hands resting on the back of his neck. “It matters more than you know.” I pause, giving him a wicked smile. “Now, are you going to fuck me or what?”

He blinks, clearly taken aback at my bluntness. Oh well. The Brit can deal.

Then he’s kissing me again, hungrier this time, adding fuel to the fire.

His hands coast down my body, sliding between my legs where I’m wet and waiting for it, and he slides a couple of fingers inside, groaning when he discovers how ready I am.

“What am I going to do with you,” he murmurs as he sucks down the length of my neck, over my collarbones, across my breast.

“Anything you want,” I manage to say before I break off into a moan as he sucks my pert nipple into his mouth, heat and electricity radiating outward through my body, snaking through every vein.

My god, I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on.

“I need you inside me,” I tell him, my voice raspy and thick.

He grunts in agreement and presses his hand against my inner thigh, holding my legs open as he pushes up deep inside me.

Shit.

I gasp, feeling the air leave my lungs, and then he pushes my legs back together again so I’m tighter. As he pulls out and thrusts back in, I feel everything.

I dig my fingers into his shoulders, holding on, and his body matches the slow rhythm of mine as he thrusts his hips forward, his cock driving deeper and deeper inside me. Every nerve in my body is being pulled inward, swirling into a hard knot, live wires buzzing and tangled and begging to be unraveled.

I’m captivated by watching him. When I slept with Joey, I never made any eye contact whatsoever, but with Harrison it’s completely different. I want to stare at him. When his eyes meet mine and he stares back, I feel a thrumming connection deep in my veins, something inside me telling me that he’s mine and I’m his and he can see me. Really see me.

With each thrust, he pushes himself in deeper, and that connection amplifies, like puzzle pieces sliding into place. My eyes drift down over his body as it moves, the way his abs clench as he thrusts inside, the sweat on his brow. His tattoos seem to come alive right now, all of them whispering their secrets to me.

I can never get enough of him.

I don’t think I ever will.

I don’t want him to leave me. Ever.

“Harder,” I whisper, and Harrison wastes no time in pushing in deeper.

So deep, my eyes roll back in my head.

“Fuck,” I gasp, feeling the emotions swirl inside me. My head drops back, my eyes closing in shock as I surrender.

This man is mine.

And I am his.

Nothing else matters.

Even if he has to leave me, nothing else matters.

But, god, please don’t let him leave me.

The thought sets off a tidal wave in my core that’s slowly building in strength and size and speed, wanting to take me under. I welcome it. I want to drown in my feelings for him.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaking with my sudden need for him, like I’ve gone absolutely mad for Harrison Cole and nothing else will do. The fear of what happens next, the fear that my heart might be lost to him forever, is making me into an insatiable woman. “I need more.”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head at that, and he responds instantly.

With a low, rough groan, he starts thrusting harder, deeper, one hand making a tight fist in my hair. He presses his chest against mine, our skin damp with sweat, and kisses me, lips tasting like salt. My mouth is wild against his, the need inside me growing restless, reckless.