Prince With Benefits: A Billionaire Royal Romance (39 page)

It's an easy decision, and yet another one he makes for me. The wave pulsing through my body, shooting up my spine and exploding in my brain, doesn't stop for anything. It's like a runaway freight train, and I just realize my pussy's grinding eagerly back against his mouth before I lose it.

Stop fucking thinking so much, beautiful,
I hear him growling in my head.
Shut the fuck up and come for me.

His hands clench tighter on my ass and he drags me across his face, fucking me with his tongue, quickening the strokes like he's tonguing the last desperate crescendo on some instrument. Oh, except
I'm
that instrument, and my body can't hold anymore of the manic fire he's sending through my bones.

My blood boils a hundred degrees hotter and I dig my fingernails into his shoulders. My head snaps back and my neck stretches. The volcano in my lower belly goes off, firing upward, a full body eruption resonating from my pussy into every single extremity.

“Jesus! Fuck! Ty!”

I've never been a religious girl, but I think I've found a new holy trinity. I call out to it again and again and again as my body comes in waves.

And when I say my body, I mean
every
muscle.

It's so strong I almost can't stand it. But when the energy hits my fingers, my toes, curling them like burning bark, I stop just short of passing out. I rock and hitch and scream, gushing on his face, every muscle pleading for him to finish what he's started.

Ty reminds me once again how intimately he knows a woman's body as I'm coming down. His licks soften, growing gentler as I'm gasping and trying to focus my breath. The spasms lessen, and my first orgasm at the hands and lips of a man passes in one last flush of steam.

“Okay, you win,” I ooze into his ear, resting my head on his shoulder. “Maybe I do want this.
Maybe.
”

He pulls me back and looks deep into my eyes. Then he kisses me again, making me taste the remnants of myself on his lips, forcing another hungry growl into my mouth.

“You'd better be fucking sure, babe,” he says when he breaks the kiss. “There're no do overs here, Claire. No mulligans. This game goes all the way to the finish line. If you fuck with me, we'll both end up broken.”

My fingers ache as I finally lift them off his shoulders, gliding them down his chest. Jesus, he's so ripped. I can't believe I'm freely touching him and loving it, admiring how chiseled his mountainous muscles really are.

“You think I don't know that?” My heart swells in perfect rhythm with other parts of me as he slips a hand underneath my blouse and runs it along with my spine. “I'm serious about this, Ty. I'm serious about you, especially because it almost sounds like you're looking for more than a quick and dirty thing.”

His eyes go wide. I get a perfect, unobstructed view of those glacial eyes, now moving like they're melting under a high arctic sun. “Damned right I am. Just never found a chick worth trying that shit with 'til I met you.”

He kisses me again. It's hard, long, hot, and furious. I don't think I can even find the words to describe this kiss.

My mind's spinning – fucking
whirling –
trying to comprehend the fact that I'm really about to let my brutal step-brother punch the V-card I've held onto for way too many years.

I don't know why I have to confess it. Maybe it'll do something to help me regain my footing, help me grab this thing by the horns before my pussy's wrapped around him the same way.

“Ty, wait.” It takes all my energy to sever our lips. “There's something you need to know.”

My lips shake. He looks at me when I pause for too long, then reaches up and brushes my hair back, tangling his strong fingers along the way.

“Tell me.”

“Uh, I've never...”

Fuck.
How the hell do I come clean about this?

“What?” He presses.

“I'm kinda new to sex. I'm...a virgin.”

Something goes off in my head. There's a droning sound, something spinning, the entire world collapsing in on itself like someone's blowing a didgeridoo in both my ears.

“Babe?” There's a long pause in his voice. “Babe!”

I should've known it was too good to be true. A second later, the curtain falls across my eyes. I'm falling too deep into a thick, dark blackout to know anything at all.

F
uck me
.

A minute ago, I was two seconds away from tearing off my pants and burying my greedy dick deep in her heavenly cunt. Then she had to set off a nuke in my ear and pass the fuck out.

As if it's not a big enough shock to know I'm the first bastard who's gonna have her pussy, she goes dead cold. Out like a dude going down in the ring.

Shit. Fuck.

I lift Claire off me and roll her soft body 'til she's flattened in her seat, checking her pulse, wrestling to remember everything I know about first aid. I hold my face to her lips, measuring her breath.

I wouldn't have done this shit if I still thought she was drunk. I have a raging red flash of the Swede in my mind, and I silently vow I'm gonna put him in his fucking grave if he's slipped her something more than booze, even if I need to track his evil ass to Stockholm.

No, she's too stable to be drugged by more than alcohol. Her vitals are good. I'm no doctor, but I know when some poor woman's been fucked up. I've seen it before with girls in the club, and always end up beating the shit outta the rat sons of bitches who're responsible.

She's just on overload. Overwhelmed by what I did to her, what we were about to do.

Goddamn. I need to get her home. I pull her panties and skirt back up with a sigh, then readjust my dick so it doesn't rip outta my pants.

I drive like hell. My heart's still pounding as I go through the gate and pull into the garage. I never take my hand off Claire's, making sure her pulse stays steady and her temperature doesn't drop.

I should take the back entrance downstairs to sneak in. But I gotta carry her, and I'm not gonna risk tripping on some firewood or old gardening tools laying around side of the house.

I don't give a single fuck who sees us.

I'll take all the hell my dad or his Congresswoman wifey wanna lay on me. Getting her tucked into bed with some blood going to her brain's all that matters right now.

I move fast, holding her tight against my chest. We get downstairs without encountering any shit. Laying her out in her room, I draw a blanket over her, and then head to the wet bar a few rooms over for some water.

I don't know if I should wake her up to drink. She's out deep, mumbling to herself every time I brush her cheek. She's warm, like she's got a slight fever.

Fuck. This thing's got me twisted up. It's hell deciding what to do.

If I rush her off to the nearest doctor, the prick'll probably chide me for being a jumpy boyfriend, and there's always the risk our asshole parents will find out. That's sure to go over like lighting a bonfire inside my old man's yacht.

“Ty? Ty? Ty?” She keeps repeating my name, soft and sleepy. Hypnotic, almost.

I brush her face, but she doesn't move like she's fully conscious. She'll be okay. She's gotta be. There'll just be one fuck of a hangover waiting for her tomorrow.

I'm still imagining all the ways I'm gonna castrate the Swede if I'm dead wrong and something
does
happen to her. I have to stay here tonight. If I can't bring her in to the town clinic, then I sure as hell can't leave her alone.

I kick off my shoes and climb in next to her. Her bed's a good size, newer and bigger than mine, but it feels tiny with her pressed up against me. I wrap one arm around her waist and tug her close, using half my mental energy to make my dick behave.

It took having my hands and mouth all over her to make Claire admit she wanted this. Now, it's my turn to resist, and I've gotta strangle my own goddamned brain to keep my hands from wandering all over her.

It feels like hours pass before I finally drift to sleep. Right before I do, I make damned sure her heartbeat and breathing are steady.

So far, so good.

She'll get through this, and so will I. This shit's just one hurdle. There's still a lotta summer left to fuck the absolute hell outta this girl, rock her world 'til there's nothing left to stand on.

A virgin! No shit.
I can't stop thinking about her dirty little secret while sleep tugs at my eyes.
How fucked up is it that I'm obsessed with boning a real, dyed in the wool, card carrying virgin girl who's never so much as touched a dick 'til tonight?

I'm used to fucking sluts who've practiced sucking off half of Club Zing before they finally get their lips on my golden cock. But with her, I'm glad she's never had anybody else.

I'm fucking thrilled, calmed, tossed into Zen-mode by it. I wasn't bullshitting her earlier. One ugly thought of another man having his way with her, willing or not, is all it takes to twist the key in my chest and make me wanna go into full psycho murder mode.

It's nuts. I shouldn't be this possessive, this crazy obsessed with fucking and owning her every way a man can. Thing is,
shouldn't
doesn't really mean shit when I'm fully prepared to gut any ballsy motherfucker who comes within shouting distance of her panties.

I can't fuck her tonight. But I will. And I'll be the only one who
ever
does.

This sweet, innocent virgin girl wrapped up in my arms is gonna feel every inch of me, and she's gonna goddamned love it. She'll love me. She'll want me. She'll look right past all my flaws. And she's never, ever gonna get enough of this dick once it gets inside her, just like I'll never be able to think straight 'til I've had my fill of her.

Only problem is, I know that once I've had a taste, there's no fucking way I'll ever settle for less. I've got an eerie feeling the last woman I'm ever gonna fuck is hooked tight and warm around me right now, and it's fucking scary.

“Sleep tight, babe,” I whisper in the darkness. “You'll need it. You were mine, mine, and only fucking
mine
the second you stepped into the club tonight. Once I get my hands on something good, I don't let go. They'll have to kill me and drag you outta my dead limp hands.”

* * *

I
wake
up at the crack of dawn like always.

She's sitting up next to me, rubbing her eyes. Can't tell if it's disbelief that I'm next to her, or else if she's trying to shake off all the shit from last night.

“Ty?” Her voice is so soft.

I roll over, grab the water bottle I've got strategically placed on the night stand, and push it into her hands after unscrewing the cap. “Drink this and go back to sleep, babe. It's been a late night.”

For a second, it looks like she's gonna pout. I give her a stern look and don't let up 'til she brings it to her lips. I'm secretly relieved she's not passed out or running into the bathroom to puke her guts out.

The fact that she's sitting up drinking means the exhaustion last night was all stress and hangover. Nothing more.

Claire looks at me, her big brown eyes flashing through the pre-dawn gloom. “What about last night? Did I disappoint you?”

I grab her, pull her close. Fuck, her warmth feels good. Dangerously tempting. I savor it as long as I can without my dick hounding me to fuck her.

“Nothing's changed, babe. Nothing. Listen to me and go back to sleep. We'll have all the time in the world to talk about it when you're well.”

I'm a horny sonofabitch, but I'm not selfish or stupid. She's in no condition for the horizontal gymnastics I've got in mind. Fucking will have to wait – as much as I want to stab myself in the eye for thinking it.

She relaxes in my embrace. My words soothe her, and I help her lay down, pulling the sheets up tight for her. It doesn't take much more convincing 'til she closes her eyes. Soon as I see her chest slowing and her breath goes soft, I quietly slip out.

I grab a fresh change of clothes and wash up. Fat Boy left me with a few parting blows on the jaw, but nothing that won't heal with a little time. His sting reminds me the victory was hard won last night, making it all the sweeter.

So does the lingering taste of Claire's lips on mine. No shit, I can still taste everything. Her kiss, her pussy cream, everything I wanted to suck and bite and lick for hours.

God willing, I'll do it again. Soon. Just not soon enough to satisfy my utterly impatient fuck below the waist. There's only one remedy for blue balls that ever works.

I head down the long corridor toward the back door, itching for a morning swim. It's a cool summer morning. I've started many mornings like it – mostly the ones when I don't wake up with some easy broad in my bed, ready to empty my balls before I send her on her merry way.

A long, cold swim will have to do. Sure, I could head down to Club Zing right now and find a few stragglers who'd fall to their knees and suck me off in minutes.

But they're not
her,
and they'll never fuck with my head the way Claire does. They'll never make my dick hammer half as hard as she does, turn me into an aching mess before I've even been inside her.

I'm outside and the big glass door clicks shut behind me. That's when I get the shock of my life.

Dad's sitting in a lounge chair next to the pool, something he never does. He's got a cigar in his mouth. When he sees me, he stops smoking, and gingerly flicks a few ashes onto the tile.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” I growl, stepping close to the very private space he's intruding in. The pool's always been an extension of
my
territory in this house.

Shit, he barely spends any time in his own house at all. Maybe a little more since he moved in his trophy girl from Congress.

“Why is it so hard to just say 'hello,' Son?” Dad stands, stubs out his smoke, and stops with just a few feet between us. “I know you came home late last night, carrying your sister, Ty. Is the poor girl still alive?”

He's got a sarcastic curl in his lips. He knows damned well she is, and the venom in his voice makes me see red.

“How the fuck did you know?” It hits me, and I run a hand across my face. “Joan. God damn it. You said you'd stop pulling that shit after I turned eighteen – I'm not a fucking kid anymore, old man! You don't need to threaten her to spy on me.”

Dad doesn't flinch, even when I get up in his face. He's the only bastard on this planet who doesn't, probably because he can remember me when I was just some gawky kid a few inches shorter than him.

“And you assured me you wouldn't drag Mandy's daughter into your childish antics. She's a good kid. If she's come home too plastered to walk, then you're the reason, and I want to know why.”

Okay, Dad,
I think.
You want the truth?

My fuckface of a former manager at the club tried to force himself on her in the backroom after my roughest fight in months. I broke his fucking nose and drove her home, but not before I shoved my face in her virgin pussy 'til she came her brains out.

Hey, maybe we've got something in common after all, assuming your new wife's pussy tastes half as good as little Sis'.

Fuck. That's everything I want to say, but obviously I don't.

It's bad enough the asshole in front of me threatened our poor housekeeper. He's done it before when he wants to pump her about my latest fuck ups, holding her job security over her. Joan cleans early and late, just doing her job, but she sees a helluva lot. She deserves better.

“This is all on
you,
Tyler.” He narrows his eyes. “You know that, right? It's time for you to take responsibility, son. Our poor maid wouldn't need to have these unpleasant conversations with me if I didn't have to worry about what's happening in my own goddamned household.”

“That's just it – there's
nothing
for you to worry about. Claire's fine. She just had a late night out. I took care of everything. I stayed with her while she went to sleep. I know how to look after people, Dad, and I sure as shit don't need you to look after me.”

I'm about to storm out before this shit gets much more explosive. It was a big mistake coming out here. I'll get in my car and drive to beach, swim in the choppy fucking Pacific to blow off steam. And I've got a lot more circulating in my system now that I'm once again wrangling with this dick I'm ashamed to share blood with.

“When are you ever going to grow up, Ty? When?”

My back's turned, but I can feel him shaking his head behind me. Something about that shit causes me to freeze, spin around, and lock onto his icy stare.

“When are you gonna stop being such a selfish jackass? You don't give two shits about Claire's health or what I'm doing with my life. You're just afraid we're gonna do something dumb in front of the media and rock your little empire, or maybe derail wifey's Senate campaign. You don't need to keep pretending you give a fuck about anything besides money and prestige.”

He comes striding up fast, his cheeks flushing red hot. “Little empire? Little?”

Oh, fuck. I can feel the volcano preparing to blow.

“It's that
little
empire that gives you a standard of living ninety-nine percent of the people on this planet will never dream of, Tyler. It's everything I've built with my bare hands! Hell, I would've
loved
to go gallivanting around with women and muscle men in my twenties like you. You know what I was doing?”