Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

“Please don’t tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying.”

My eyes narrowed. “We have common ground. That’s all.”

She gasped. “Are you serious? I’m not the company whore. I’m not here to entertain your needs.”

I laughed. “I don’t think you’re a whore, Aspen. I’m only giving you options. I’d never think that.” I stepped closer and heard her breath hitch. I ran my finger over her shoulder, slipping under the strap. “Just something to think about.”

“You are a complete asshole. Worse than an asshole. You’re a sexist, chauvinistic pig.”

But she didn’t move. Her feet remained planted while my finger moved over her collarbone to her throat.

“Is that right?”

She nodded. “It is. And I can think of more words to describe you.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and locked it against her lower back.

“How about presumptive prick?” she suggested. “Or arrogant womanizer?”

I leaned to kiss the curve from her neck to her shoulder. She let out a long sigh.

“Keep going,” I urged.

My free hand unhooked the clasp on her bra and pushed it off her shoulders under her camisole. Her nipples rubbed the silk fabric. She had incredible tits.

“Bad boy… cocky…” she whispered.

I shoved the lace over her nipples. They hardened under my stare.

“Surely you have more,” I taunted her as my mouth latched onto her right breast and sucked it deep in my mouth.

Her knees buckled, but I held her steady with one arm while I bit and flicked my tongue over her hard peak.

“Oh, God.” Her hands fisted through my hair, pressing me closer to her chest. “Playboy,” she groaned. “Flirt…”

I was done with the games and the taunts. I scooped her in my arms. I hit the switch against the wall, throwing us into total darkness.

“Now, it’s my turn to do the talking.”

10

Aspen

The room was dark, other than the lights from the pool below. Lachlan lowered me to the bed in one steady motion, but my head was spinning.

I didn’t know what was happening. I was on my way out of the room—out of this building—out of the village—when he touched me. His hands were like dangerous weapons, cutting off my rational thought and bringing my body to life.

I lifted my hips as he tugged the skirt over my thighs and tossed it to the floor. He peeled my camisole over my arms. His towel was off and there was nothing between us but my pair of panties.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could make out the beautiful contours of muscles on his body. My fingers traced over the ridges, sliding lower until I felt the hardness of his shaft on the tips of my fingers.

I inhaled sharply. It was massive and strong. I wrapped my hand around it as he groaned.

“Like that,” he coaxed me while I pumped over him with a gentle grip.

My thumb ran over the drop of dew on the head of his cock and rubbed it over the rest of his throbbing shaft. There was something else I wanted. I slid further down the bed until his rod of steel rested on my lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned with pleasure.