Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

He groaned, coating it in my wetness.

“We can’t,” I whispered. But my body was in complete opposition to my words. I’d never wanted anything the way I wanted this.

“We can.” He looked up at me. “And we will.”

His wide hands landed on either side of my waist as he brought me to the floor. I stared up at him, mesmerized by this man.

I breathed heavily. “I-I can’t. I want to. God, do I want to. But it’s against royal proto—”

“Kenley.” He tugged the panties over my thighs before he tossed the towel from his body. I stared in total shock at his shaft. Holy shit it was a throbbing glorious rod of steel.

I felt the flash of heat spread through my core. I wanted it to pierce the ache inside me.

“Do you want to be fucked by royal protocol, or fucked by me?” he growled.

I didn’t need to think through my answer. I had played this exact scenario in my head in a fantasy and in that fantasy, I never turned the prince down.

“You,” I whispered. “I want to be fucked by you.”

His eyebrows rose. “God, I had no idea you had a dirty mouth. You’re hotter by the second, Kenley.”

His lips crashed into mine as his body covered mine. His skin was hot and smooth. My hands ran over his back, tracing the lines and angles of muscle. It didn’t seem possible I could know everything about him, except this. I didn’t know how he tasted. I didn’t know the warmth of his body. I didn’t know his cock was something that legends were made from.

He ro

lled me on my stomach, unclasping my bra and dropping it from my arms, urging me to support myself on all fours. He kissed my shoulders as he pinched my nipples between his fingers.

“Oh shit,” I moaned.

His other hand ran an electric pattern around my clit, through my slit before his fingers pushed inside my pussy. I bucked every time he slid another finger inside me.

My body had never been so alive. So awake. There was a fiery current running from my breasts to my core. Dominic was orchestrating every sensation. Every impulse. Every ounce of ecstasy. My hips moved eager for more.

“You’re getting wetter and wetter,” he grunted. “I think I can make you come like this.”

I shook my head again, knowing I was losing the battle to do the right thing. I was on my hands and knees, naked with the prince in his closet. I’d lost the battle, the minute he arrived.

I arched, feeling the fullness of his fingers push deep inside me.

“No. We shouldn’t even—”

“Oh, Kenley. My perfect proper Kenley. You’re going to come so hard. Because it’s exactly what I want,” he growled. “I want you to know how good I can make you feel.” He twisted my clit between his fingers, drawing exquisite pleasure. If only he’d twist harder.

“Oh God.”

“Yes,” he uttered huskily. “Fuck my fingers, princess.”

I was like a wild panther, out of control, with one goal in mind. To find release from the pent-up years of sexual frustration and want. Years of lusting after this man. Years of loving him from a distance. I jerked backwards, eager for more fullness. More of his fingers.

I panted, letting the inhibition drip from me. His breath was hot against my neck. There was no turning back as the first cataclysmic wave smacked me. I clutched at his fingers desperate to be grounded in this moment. I was throwing myself off a cliff.

Dominic’s teeth nipped at my shoulder while I rode the orgasm on his fingers.

“Oh baby,” he moaned, sliding in and out of me, driving me higher. Pushing me to a new level of lust.

My fingers dug into the carpet as the rays of pleasure rippled through me. I sank on his fingers fully, letting him fill me, take me. His hand wrapped around my breasts, positioning me upright as he held me against his chest. I whimpered with nowhere to escape.

“Fuck me,” he commanded.