The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1)

“That’s my girl.” He stared down at her, the look familiar. “We’re through to the knockout stage. The win today puts us through even if we lose our next game. Which we won’t. So,” he said, drawing out the word, “you are stuck with me for at least another week.”

Then, he kissed her, but her heart dropped. Her mind whirled with the implications of what he’d said. The only time she was guaranteed with him was this right here. As long as the team won, Ele and Tristan could continue to be together.

An urgency descended between them, and the speed with which Tristan undressed her underlined the end of his patience. He pushed her shirt from her shoulders, popped the clasp on her bra, and pulled her panties and slacks off in one motion. His hand found her nipple and rolled it between his fingers. Her body loosened with his touch, and her legs, already cradling his, fell further open in invitation. He pushed up to his knees and stared down at her, one hand still toying with her breast. There was both tenderness and hunger in his gaze. He leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss on her mouth before he moved away from her to disrobe. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, and Ele watched, transfixed, as his toned torso flashed. All his lean muscles and taut skin made her fingers itch. He moved away to divest himself of his pants. When he was gloriously naked in front of her, he leaned down and braced his hands on either side of her head.

His mouth met hers for a fierce kiss. Against her lips, he said, “Turn over.”

Ele melted right there. He stood up and waited, watching her. Flames of desire licked up her body, and she could have combusted.

“Now, Your Highness,” he whispered with a wicked smirk.

Ele flipped and squirmed, exposed in a way she’d never been before. He moved her hair aside, gathering it and pushing it over her shoulder so it fanned out beside her. His mouth met the nape of her neck, where he pressed an open-mouthed kiss before he ran his nose down the length of her spine. His hands landed on her hips, his thumbs in the center of her back. In a move so quick that it was surprising, he pulled her up, her hands and knees automatically flying out but he caught her as he positioned her.

“This is going to be quick.” He was behind her and then over her, his voice in her ear. “Probably hard. But I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

She wanted to be resistant. Some part of her wanted to change the dynamic. But the other part of her—the part that seemed to come out to play when Tristan was around—well, that part gushed hot and wet. She heard the condom wrapper tear. Before she could process anything or brace herself, Tristan’s arm wrapped around her stomach, and he thrust into her.

“Tristan!” she gasped.

His lips were on her neck again. “I need you.” He shuddered above her but stopped moving, allowing her time to get used to his invasion.

His hand spread wide, pressing into her belly, holding her, steadying her. Then, he pulled out and pushed in again. He bit down, where her shoulder met her neck and a very unprincesslike sound tore from her throat. Tristan’s hand on her stomach tightened. He seemed content to stay completely molded to her, but Ele needed him to move. She arched her back and pressed into him.

“What do you need, E?” he said, flexing his hips.

“That,” she grunted.

She felt his smile against her neck.

“What’s that?” he teased. “I want you to tell me exactly what you want, exactly how you want it.”

Ele dropped her head, knowing she couldn’t do what he was asking. Her face suffused with heat as she blushed. His hand drifted up from her stomach, caressing her breast, making her body answer for her.

“Yes, that,” she managed to huff.

He let go of her breast and pulled away from her back. His hands gripped her hips, and he eased almost all of the way out of her. She moving backward, chasing him. But he stilled her with h

is hands.

She whimpered in disappointment.

“I’m not going far, love,” Tristan said. His hips snapped forward, filling her and she moaned. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes.”

He actually chuckled.

How can he laugh at a time like this?

“I’ve got you,” he said before he slammed back into her as his urgency and impatience seemed to overtake his need for gentleness.

Her whole body responded to him, to his pace, to his hold on her. As his cock slid inside of her and his thighs flexed against the backs of her legs, his fingers dug into her hips, and every muscle in her body clenched. Tristan moved in and out of her, hitting places inside her body she hadn’t even known existed. Ele gasped and then moaned, unable to control anything her body was doing. He was like a magician, weaving a spell around her and through her. Like incantations, he talked, telling her every way he wanted to touch her and how he wanted her to touch him. And while his body continued to pound into hers, it was his words—his beautiful words—pushing her over the edge.

She dropped onto the bed, gasping, her limbs unable to hold her. Tristan followed her down, his arms holding most of his weight. His nose landed in her hair before he slid his arm under her and rolled them.

If she only had a week, it would suck.

If she only had a week, she would make the most of it.