Enchanting Sebastian (Big Sky Royal 1)

“I’ve wanted to do that for what feels like forever.”

“Three days.”

“Longest three days of my bloody life.”

He stands and lifts me into his arms. I loop my arms around his neck.

“Where are we going?”

“To bed.”

“Mine or yours?”

“It’s ours now,” he says, frowning down at me.

“I have my own room. I thought I’d be sleeping in there.”

“Fuck that.” I raise an eyebrow. “You have your own space, yes, but you’ll be sleeping with me. This is our bed, and I’ll have you in it.”

“Bossy,” I murmur, dragging my finger down his cheek. “But I like it.”

He lowers me to the cool linens covering the ridiculously soft mattress. The bed’s already been turned down.

I bet the sheets are at least a thousand thread count.

I have a thing for good sheets.

But rather than discuss the palace’s choice in linens, I reach for Sebastian’s shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside.

“Whoa,” I whisper before I can control myself.

“Is that a good whoa, or a bad one?”

“Have you seen you? My God, you look like you’ve been sculpted. Or photoshopped.”

“I train,” he says simply, peppering kisses over my shoulder. “And have you seen you?”

“Are we going to spend the whole night dishing out compliments? Or are we going to get to the good stuff?”

He smiles down at me. “What kind of good stuff?”

“You know.” I let my hand wander down his ridiculously hard abs and over his shorts, cupping his hard cock in my palm. “It involves this.”

“Oh, yes. We’ll be getting to the good stuff.”

I help him out of his shorts, and when we’re finally and blissfully naked together, Sebastian surprises me by simply tipping his forehead against mine and holding me close.

“This isn’t the good stuff I was talking about.”

He smiles. “I’m just taking my time, darling. I’m enjoying you.”

“There’s no need for that.”

He frowns now. “Why the hell not?”

I shrug a shoulder and look away, but he catches my chin in his fingers and pulls my focus back to him.

“I’m used to fast and fun and then going our separate ways,” I admit.

“Oh, Nina.” He kisses my lips, just barely touching them. “That’s not how this is going to go at all. Just trust me.”

No more words are needed. He sets to methodically making me crazy. His hands, those amazing freaking hands, are on a mission to drive me insane. He plucks my nipple, then soothes it with his tongue. He drags his blunt nails up my side from my ass to my breast. His touch is firmer now, but he’s not moving faster.

Damn it, I want him inside of me!

I loop my leg up around his hip in invitation, but rather than sink in, he just uses his hand and brings me to a climax that might rival the eruption of Mt. St. Helens.

I was right, he’s going to kill me.

“Sebastian.”

“What do you need?”

“You.” It’s a sob now. I’m not proud of it, but I can’t stop it. “Please, I just need you.”

There’s rustling, the tear of a packet, and then he finally, finally covers me once more, cradling my head in his hands as he sinks slowly into my heat.

“Jesus, Nina.”

Once he’s seated as far as he can go, he stops to kiss me, long and hard. Finally, his hips begin to move in long and smooth strokes.

“You’re hitting just the right spot,” I mutter before biting his arm and clenching around him. I come so quickly, it takes us both by surprise.

I thought for sure it would take a while to build back up, especially after two orgasms.

I was wrong.

“Good girl.” He begins moving faster, much harder. “You amaze me. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“Good. Don’t keep them off me.” I grip his ass, urging him to go harder. Deeper.

To my delight, he falls over the edge into his own orgasm, his eyes pinned to mine as he goes.

***

It’s been a solid week of being in the palace. And by that, I mean I’ve literally not left the palace grounds since the day Sebastian and I walked in a week ago.

There hasn’t been time to breathe, much less get out to see London.

I’ve spent my days with Mary, learning everything from family history to how to behave in public. I’m not allowed to kiss Sebastian. I am allowed to hold his hand. I must sit with my ankles crossed, never my knees.

The way I speak, the way I must school my face, everything is given as a rule.

It’s fascinating and disconcerting all at the same time.

When I’m not training with Mary, I’m with a seamstress who is literally building a wardrobe around my body. I mean, I knew that they wouldn’t buy my clothes off a rack, but I had no idea that the garments would be made especially for me.

The clothes are beautiful. And for the most part, the staff is kind. I see the side-eye that some of them give me, and I’m sure they talk amongst themselves, but they’re discreet and smart enough to know that they’d better not get caught.