The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1)

He kissed her collarbone and dipped his hips before flexing them. He was teasing her, coming close to where she wanted him without actually touching her there. She could feel the dampness and heat between her legs, and she squirmed against him.

“Tired,” he answered. Then, as if to illustrate his point, he pushed up, rubbing against her clit, making her gasp.

“Right there,” she instructed, as if he didn’t know. “God, right there.”

He chuckled. “Seeing you there tonight, knowing you were watching me, I loved it.” His hand skated down her back, over her ass, under the flimsy silken material, inside of her.

She gulped, unprepared. “Yes. More.”

He tormented her with his fingers, cupping her from behind, rubbing against her with his cock. Tristan leaned down and captured her unexposed nipple in his mouth again. He gently bit down. Ele panted, her breath heaving.

“Tell me you watched me.”

“Every step,” she admitted, her brain hardly able to form coherent thoughts. “You loved it. I was shaking with nerves, and you loved it.”

He continued to nuzzle her and play with her, t

o pull her hips forward, to command every erogenous zone on her body. “I did. I do. I live for that.”

Her hand reached between them, and she cupped him, stroked him. She kept moving her hips, bumping against her own hand.

Tristan peeled himself away from feasting on her breast. Leaning back, he watched her hand work them. “That’s so hot. Fucking brilliant.”

Encouraged, Ele pulled on the waistband of his shorts, freeing his erection. Her fingers curled around the head. She caressed him, running her thumb along the slit, toying with it. He moved them together, so her hand was touching both of them again.

“Just like that, E. Just like that.” The hand between her legs moved quicker, in and out of her. “I need to be inside of you.”

“You are,” she said on a snicker.

His hand moved away, and she felt the loss of it.

“No,” she whimpered.

He produced a condom out of thin air, and while she gazed down at him, he rolled it on. He shoved her shorts aside. Ele placed her hands on his shoulders and went up onto her knees. He positioned himself and guided her down. She sank onto him, chasing oblivion. He slowed her with a squeeze on her hip.

“Now, I’m inside of you.” He smirked.

He was. He was so deep in her; she was full. She allowed herself a moment to feel him, to enjoy being filled by him. His hands ran through her hair, and he tugged on the ends, making her head fall back a little.

“I loved that you were there tonight,” he said.

Ele could hardly think, but Tristan was speaking in complete sentences. She pushed down with her hands and up with her legs, enjoying the slide of him as he almost left her completely. Then, she slid back down, and Tristan didn’t try to speak anymore. She set the rhythm, called the shots, and Tristan allowed her to. She reveled in the power, in the way his face projected every reaction, in the automatic flexing of his hands on her hips. She rode him, the silk of her sleep clothes an added sensation as it rubbed against her nipples. Tristan pulled her hand away from his shoulder, and he placed it where their bodies met.

She followed the path with her eyes and felt herself flush with embarrassment.

He lifted her chin with his hand, so their eyes locked.

“Make yourself come,” he demanded softly.

She clenched around him, his words heating her more. He hissed, his eyes fluttered, and then he purposely looked between them, waiting for her. She wanted to prolong the moment, but she couldn’t resist him. In two strokes, she was clenching around him, her orgasm fast and hard. Her vision got hazy, and her hand clenched on his shoulder, hanging on. Tristan watched her, reveling in her release.

Then, he took over. He turned them and laid her on her back, never leaving her body. He hooked his hand under her knee, positioning her leg out wide. He moved between her thighs, driving into her.

“Wanted this so bad,” he muttered. “It wasn’t complete”—he shifted, hitting her clit, making her cry out—“wasn’t complete without this,” he gasped.

Then, he came with his eyes closed, his head back, his neck straining. Ele hung on, milking the last of his orgasm.

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