Читать книгу My Royal Hook-Up - Riley Pine - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

Damien

“DO YOU KNOW the story of this place?” I ask her as we both stare straight ahead. The sun has set now, and before us lies nothing but a black abyss.

She shakes her head sheepishly, and I try to wrap my head around how sheltered this young woman truly is.

“Centuries ago, a Nightgardin prince—Maximus—fell ass over elbow for Calista, an Edenvale princess.”

She scoffs. “You’re so eloquent.”

I shrug. “You didn’t come to me for eloquence, Princess.” She quiets, so I continue. “The princess was here with her father as the two kings tried to negotiate a peace treaty. Of course, no such thing happened. But when Maximus was charged with showing Calista the royal grounds while the two kings attempted to negotiate terms, it was love at first sight.”

She snorts, and her hand immediately flies to her mouth as her pale cheeks grow pink.

I raise a brow, and she crosses her arms, defiant. It’s a good look on her.

“Love at first sight? Please. Despite my future being mapped out for me without any say in the matter, I don’t daydream about something better. About what could be. I’m not naive enough to believe in fairy tales.”

I shrug. “Believe what you want, Highness. I don’t need to finish the story.”

She grabs my bare forearm, the tips of her fingers branding me with their heat.

“Please,” she says. “Keep going.”

I remove her hand from my skin and place it in her lap, needing the distance.

“I’m not looking to spend the next couple decades in a Nightgardin cell. But—as you wish. I will continue the tale.” I take a steadying breath, wondering for a moment if she felt the same searing touch of her skin on mine. Then I shake my head, banishing the ridiculous notion, and continue. “When the kings emerged from the negotiation chamber, neither Maximus nor Calista was anywhere to be found. But the princess’s lady in waiting was discovered bound to a tree in the woods, gagged so she could not call for help. She’s the one who revealed that the young lovers had escaped on horseback hours before, riding up the winding path of this very mountain.”

I watch her chest rise and fall, watch patches of pink flush the skin on her neck, her cheeks. The same hue as the panties I know she’s got on under that tiny dress.

She swallows, and something about this moment and the silence—seeing the Princess of Nightgardin rapt from nothing other than my words—it’s the most intimate thing I’ve experienced in a good, long while.

“They came—here?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, one single, slow movement.

“Long before the roads were paved, this whole lookout was lush and green, the perfect spot for two young royals to...” She swallows again, and I hold off on giving her the satisfaction of knowing. Instead, I lean toward her, bold and reckless, my lips stopping short of grazing her earlobe. She smells sweet like vanilla, which makes me long to taste her. “And Princess,” I whisper, “there is nothing like the joining of two people in pure, undiluted love.”

Her breath catches—a tiny yet dangerous sound.

“Calista’s lady in waiting led the palace guards and those the King of Edenvale brought with him right to this spot. It is said the king raised his own hand to his dishonored daughter, but Maximus put himself in harm’s way instead. They didn’t get a chance to plead for their lives. Swords were raised on either side, a declaration of war. Either way, they were already dead. So the two joined hands and backed away from the skirmish until no ground was left to tread.”

I straighten and see a tear leak from the corner of the princess’s eye.

“I will never have a love such as they did,” she says, voice trembling.

I let out a bitter laugh. “You want a love that will send you to your grave? If that’s the case, you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.”

She raises her hand, but I catch her wrist midslap.

“How dare you judge me?” she asks through gritted teeth. “You roam the continents taking anything and everything that your heart desires, yet I will never have such a luxury. Don’t you get it? You may be banished, but you are free.”

My grip tightens on her wrist, yet she does not struggle to free herself.

Everything my heart desires. What a fucking joke.

“My heart,” I snap, “died in the wreck that killed the only person I was stupid enough to love. So don’t you speak to me of freedom. I am a prisoner, just like you.”

And if I give her what she came looking for tonight, I’ll likely rot away in Nightgardin’s highest-security prison—if the king doesn’t kill me first. It would be reckless as hell to assume anything less.

But I stopped playing it safe the second I bedded my own brother’s fiancée. I have nothing—nothing—left to lose.

“Are you refusing my request?” she asks, jutting out her chin.

I bait her. “What you’re asking for is an act of treason. I may be a man without a country, but yours has tolerated my presence for some time now. It’s the closest thing I have to a—” I bite my tongue before uttering the word home. I am not foolish enough to think I belong anywhere, let alone here. But an act against Nightgardin, even by a banished Edenvale prince, would put the rest of my family at risk. “I will need some sort of...insurance...that you won’t have your way with me and then immediately report me. Or...if that is your endgame...at least something that will work in my defense in a Nightgardin court. Though I doubt I’d even be given a trial.” I’m mostly joking, because I know this night can end in only one way—with me behind bars and my family none the wiser. But she clears her throat.

“Very well,” she says. “What do you truly know about Nightgardin law?”

I chuckle. “Enough that I understand a night with you could cost me my life, but I’ve already admitted as much. What are you playing at, Princess?”

She dips her head. “If they find out I lied—that I came to the city to consort with an Edenvale prince instead of cloistering myself in prayer—you will not be the only one guilty of treason.”

My throat goes bone dry. “They would hang you in the palace square.”

“Perhaps,” she says. “Or worse. It would be justified. That would be up to the king and queen to decide.”

It would be up to her parents to decide whether or not to kill their only child for the crime of fucking me.

“This is the only time in my life that I get to decide, Damien. Let me choose who gets to take the most precious gift I have to offer. Because I choose you.”

She reaches beneath the skirt of her barely there dress and tugs her panties down her thighs, over her knees and ankles until they lie in a ball on the Alfa Romeo’s floor.

My nostrils flare. There it is again, the faint tang of her sweet, intimate scent.

“No one knows I’m here,” she says. “And by the time they find me, you’ll be long gone.”

She takes my palm, places it high on her thigh and simply says, “Please.”

Somehow, with one hand, I maneuver the car into Reverse and onto the road as my other hand skims soft skin, sliding higher, until I’m there.

I dip one finger between her soft, wet folds, and she cries out, bucking in her seat.

“Fucking hell,” I growl, then put the pedal to the floor, speeding off to certain death.

Juliet

I’m going to die.

No, really. I’ll be dead before my next breath.

My back arches and my hips circle to an uninhibited rhythm.

Damien takes another hairpin turn, one-handed, because he’s delved the other between my thighs. His palm dances over my clit, working me until my sensitive skin throbs in time with my pounding heart. When he plunges his fingers into my tight slit, the Alfa Romeo wheels aren’t the only things squealing.

My whimper dwindles to a soft pant as I writhe, drenched with an unfamiliar need. Damien can’t maintain expert control of this sports car and me all at the same time. It’s too much. No man is this dexterous. He’s going to drive us off a cliff to our doom.

But his long, relentless fingers plunge inside my folds, filling me up, taking me to the gates of Heaven. My front teeth clamp hard on my lower lip. I won’t tell him to stop. Death might be close at hand—but by the old gods and new...mine shall be a glorious end.

“Jesus, doll. You’re a hellcat, aren’t you?” He does that magic swirling trick with his fingers again, confident and in control, playing me like a virtuoso violinist, and my scream is a sound between a breathless yelp and a squeak of delight. My whole body begins to shudder. My derriere clenches as my thighs tremble.

Good lord, what is happening to me?

“Fuck, I love a woman who makes some noise while she comes,” he growls.

Another perfectly aggressive stroke, and my inner walls pulse in a series of mind-blowing contractions that milk his fingers. When I grow still, he cups my sex and teases my silky strands with a soft tickle.

“You have a fucking amazing pussy,” he growls.

But I’m too greedy for games, and too starved for touch.

“More.” I grab his wrist and grind my pelvis against his palm without a shred of decorum. I can hear my wetness sucking against his rough skin and don’t recognize this woman, wild and roused, filled with savage yearning. I’ve touched myself before. A couple awkward fumbles beneath my quilt in the dead of night, but I never knew exactly what I was doing.

It’s humbling that Damien seems to know my body’s responses better than I do.

“Shit,” he snarls, slamming the brakes. We skid to a stop in the middle of the road. I turn around, tensing at the anticipated impact of another car, but the hour is late. No other vehicle is in sight.

“Climb aboard, love. But be a good girl and grab the bottle of lube in the glove box.”

“Excuse me?” Climb aboard? Lube?

“Time to get your sweet ass out of that seat and straddle me. You want to fuck? Fine, but we’re going to do it my way, Princess. And behind the wheel is my favorite position.”

I blink once. Twice. But he says nothing, just regards me with those magnetic steely eyes.

Oh my god. He’s not joking. I try to swallow. “Let me get this straight. You’re planning to drive while having intercourse with me?” I grew up riding horses, but something tells me that losing my virginity to a man behind the wheel of an Italian sports car is nothing I could have possibly prepared for.

“Are you up for the challenge or not, Princess?” His eyes are dark as sin. “Because if the answer is no, I can turn this car around and take you back to the club.”

“No! Wait!” I cry. “Don’t do that.” My hand trembles as I move to unbuckle my seat belt, nerves churning my stomach. But despite my unease, I want this; I want him—badly.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Hold up. One final thing.” His voice is a warning, silk sliding over gravel. “Have you heard everything the maids said about my...prowess?”

“Just that you are an expert in the arts of lovemaking.”

There is no humor in his chuckle. “And what do you think of my nickname?”

“Nickname?” I frown.

“The Backdoor Baron?” He sounds exasperated. “Ring any bells?”

My frown deepens. “I do not understand. You are a baron? Weren’t you stripped of all titles? And what’s all this about a back door?”

His intense gaze threatens to undo me. “You really are a sheltered innocent, aren’t you? The nickname is a joke, but not without an element of truth. I give women pleasure, but when I’m inside them, I only enter one way. Through the back door.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but nothing is forthcoming. “You speak in riddles.”

“Are you joking?” Two lines crease between his brows. “Isn’t this why you sought me out? To have me give you pleasure while keeping your technical virginity intact for your husband?”

Confusion presses against my skull. Silently I curse my parents for keeping me so cloistered and ignorant of the world. And I curse myself for letting them.

He huffs a curt sigh. “All right, look. When I fuck, I don’t do it here.” He reaches under my dress and enfolds my sex. “I do it here.” He slides his hand away and squeezes my backside.

Clarity hits me like a bolt of lightening.

Backside. Back door. Like...butt.

Oh!

My cheeks are surely turning the color of rubies. “People do that?”

“Sure.” He winks. “They do with me.”

“I...no...no... I do not want to try such a thing. I wanted... I mean... I expected...the front door?” I grimace. This conversation is by far and away the most awkward dialogue I’ve ever endured.

Beep! A loud horn breaks the quiet night, and a Porsche swivels around us, the driver making a vulgar gesture as he passes.

“Right back at you, buddy.” Damien hits the accelerator, resuming our journey. He quickly glances in my direction before looking back to the road. “I’ve met your betrothed, you know. The Duke of Wartson. We’ve played poker together once or twice.”

“Oh?” The sudden change of topic confuses me.

“You really have to marry that horny old goat?”

Tears prickle in my eyes. “Indeed.”

He’s quiet a moment before breathing out a rough sigh. “Fine. I’ll give you what you ask for. But not here. Not while I’m driving, and not in the back door. For you, I’m going to make an exception.” His smile is rueful. “Consider it an early wedding present.”

He drives slower, but just as masterfully. The perfect, chiseled lines of his face are made for brooding. I find myself hypnotized.

“Damien?” I ask at last. It’s strange how his name tastes so familiar on my tongue. “Why do you only ever take women in the...back door? Have you never tried the, uh, front door either?” A mad sort of hope flickers in me. Perhaps I’m not so stupidly naive and innocent. Perhaps he is like me, a virgin.

That faint glimmer of hope is doused by his bitter chuckle.

“Yes, Princess. I’ve tried the front door. But only ever with one woman.” His knuckles go bloodless on the steering wheel. “A woman who is now dead.”

Realization dawns on me. “Your brother’s fiancée. Your once future queen. You seduced her, didn’t you?”

“Technically, Victoria seduced me,” he rasped. “But I suppose I should be proud of my notoriety.”

“She was your lover?”

“I had rather thought that she was my one true love.” A shadow falls across his face. “But I was nothing but a boy, and it was all a lie. Yet when it came to our lovemaking...sex meant something with her. And I’ve never felt that way about another woman. So I still fuck. I just do it on terms that make it bearable.”

My heart aches at the pain lacing his words.

We arrive at an exquisite hotel, and he pulls past the main entrance. Instead, we approach a gated drive from a side street. He punches a pass code into a keypad, and the great brass doors swing wide open. He pulls forward.

“So what makes me different?” I don’t look at him. I focus my gaze on the ten-story hotel before us. I breathe a small sigh of relief that although we are in a public place, no one will see me enter. I don’t want to be found out before I get what I came here for.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” he mutters. “And I don’t have a good reply. At least not an easy one. So why don’t we go inside and see if the answer is hiding in your perfect pussy?”