Royal Pain (His Royal Hotness 1)

Making her come could easily be my new obsession.

I’ve had a lot of women in my life, have used my name and charm and looks to get whomever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Have used sex to keep my demons, and my failures, at bay.

But sex with Savvy is different. Because Savvy is different, a primitive voice in the back of my head warns even as it urges me on. Thrusting my tongue inside of her, I send her over the edge to one final climax before skimming my mouth across the curve of her hip to the flat plane of her stomach.

Unable to resist, I suck on the soft flesh of her waist until I mark her, relishing the high-pitched cry she doesn’t even try to hold back. I soothe the small hurt with my tongue and lips before pulling back.

“What—” she asks, dazed. Confused. She’s trembling, but I know it’s from an overload of pleasure instead of cold. Her skin is flushed and nearly feverish.

As am I. My balls are on fire, my cock burning with the need to bury itself in the wet, silky heat of her. Lowering her back to the ground, I turn her so that she’s facing the wall.

“Kian, please! I need—”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Determined to get inside her—to stay inside her—I press on her upper back so that she’s leaning forward, her ass thrusting back for me. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a condom.

I unbutton my pants, ease out my aching dick, and roll it on. And then, intertwining my fingers with hers, I thrust into Savvy from behind.

She cries out, arches wildly, tugging as if to free her hands from my grip. But I hold on, covering her body with my own. I couldn’t let her go now if she begged. The moment I’d slid into her, everything else had stopped.

The voice in my head that always screams that I’m not good enough.

The terror I feel for my brother every waking hour.

The fear that I will never be half the man he is, never be good enough to take his place on the throne.

It all goes away, drowned out by the beauty and the power of this moment.

I’m rough with her, rougher than I’d intended on being, but I lose control. Any gentleness I’d had in me was used up in the long, sexy moments of going down on her. But even as the pleasure swamps me, I make sure that every cry I pull from her is a good one, make sure that every slam of my body into hers takes her one step higher.

I wrap an arm around her to make sure she’s protected from the rough finishing of the wall, and then I ride her hard and fast. Each thrust is a frenzy of raging desire, each stroke a declaration of control and ownership and vicious, violent need.

And Savvy takes it. No, she doesn’t just take it. She begs for more, her muscles clenching down tightly around me.

I reach down, push her legs farther apart. I need to go deeper, need to drive my cock so hard and deep inside of her that I’ll never forget the feel of her. Never forget the power and the peace pouring through me.

Sobbing, Savvy digs her fingernails into my hands, hanging on for dear life as my thrusts pound into her. “Do it!” she gasps, her body shaking uncontrollably as her sex clenches tightly around my dick. “Please. You have to.”

The music gets louder. My body screams for relief. But I refuse to give in—not now, not when she’s so close to coming again. I’m desperate to feel her orgasm, to feel her body as it spasms wildly around my own.

Easing back a little, I bring my hand down, gently stroke her clit. “No, baby, you have to,” I whisper, following the words with a desperate lunge inside of her. “Come on, Savvy, sweetheart. Let it take you. Let it—”

She screams, her back arching beneath me like a bow as the waves explode through her. Gritting my teeth, I keep up the hard, steady strokes until sweat streams down my body. Until my muscles cry out for relief. Until yet another orgasm whips through Savvy and she cries out my name again and again and again.

Only then do I give myself up to a release so violent, so strong, so overwhelming, it’s like power itself.

Chapter 22

Savvy

“Are you busy today?” Kian asks as we sit around my kitchen table stuffing pancakes into our mouths. I feel a little guilty about not inviting Avery and Niall to join us, but Kian’s in a towel and I’m in not much more. I could change, I suppose, but I’m enjoying the way Kian’s eyes keep skimming over me while we talk, the way he drifts off mid-sentence sometimes because he gets distracted by one part of my body or another.

It surprises me how much I like it, in fact. I’ve always wanted a man to be interested in me because of my brain, because of what I think or what I have to say. Kian gives me that and I love it. But there’s something to be said for being with a man who loves my body as much as Kian does. Who is turned on just by watching me eat or talk or breathe.

God knows, I feel the same way about him. Everything about this man was designed for sex. From his smoking hot body and inexhaustible curiosity to his very talented mouth and utter unselfishness in bed. What he did to me last night—

“Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” he suddenly demands. And then his face is right in front of mine, his green eyes blazing with laughter and enough heat that I can feel my panties growing damp while I sit here.

“I’m listening, I swear.”