Page 5 of Her Royal Master
“Talk.Or else I call Samson in here and you find out how he deals with stowaways.”
She swallowed.“Who’s Samson?”
I gave a sharp shake of my head to let her know I wouldn’t be distracted.“Who.The fuck.Are you?”
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth.“I’m Allegra’s roommate.Allegra was sick—food poisoning or something, and Marina showed up and convinced me to come instead.”
“Bullshit.You’re a reporter.”
She blanched, and something in my solar plexus twisted.I didn’t want her to be the paparazzi, even though I knew she had to be.The way she pressed her lips together in a firm line was all the answer I needed.
“Baby, there are only two ways this can go.”I stalked over to her.“You can come clean, sign the nondisclosure agreement and I’ll let you stay.I might even let you collect your five grand.Or Samson will throw you overboard.I’m not kidding.You think the Halsburg family fucks around with paparazzi scum?”
No, I didn’t really plan to let Samson know we had a reporter on board, because he actually might do something unsavory to her, especially after the Madison debacle last year.But if she signed the NDA, I’d be a perfect fucking gentleman and keep her in my room, so she didn’t have to whore herself out to the testosterone-laden group of frisky boys.I’d even keep my cock in my pants.
Unless she asked for it.
She looked too young to be a reporter.Oh Jesus.What if she wasn’t even eighteen and this was a police bust?Or a setup through the paparazzi to catch us on statutory rape?“How old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty-four.”
I believed her.Mostly because her face was an easy read.I thought I’d know if she was lying.“Are you with law enforcement?”I just had to be sure.
Her surprised scoff appeared real.“No.”
“But you’re a reporter.”
She rolled her lips together, and her eyes darted around the room.Yeah, very easy to read.Definitely a reporter.“What’s your real name, and who do you work for?”
The voices of my cousin’s buddies sounded down the corridor.“Let’s get the fifth girl.Why does Darius get to take one for himself?”
Fuck.I hadn’t locked the door.
I moved before I knew I meant to, launching onto the bed and rolling her to one side to smack her ass.The sound of the slap rang out, almost as loud as her shriek.Nothing like a real squeal for authenticity.I slapped again.She gave another cry of protest.Though I was acting for show, my cock took it all for real, her cute squeals making me sprout a chubby.
“Darius!”One of the idiots bellowed outside my door.
I looked down at her beautiful, startled face, the question in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks.Her nipples tented my worn, thin t-shirt.
Lord, help me.She was turned on, too?
I didn’t mean to—but my body moved of its own accord.I fell on her, pinning her wrists above her head, claiming her mouth with a brutal kiss.Her lip gloss tasted like strawberries.“Get lost,” I shouted in my native language as one of my hands shoved the hem of the t-shirt up over her breasts.
“What are you doing?”She sounded breathless.Her struggles were feeble at best.
The door banged open, and I stamped my lips on her mouth, smothering her protests, angling my body on top of hers so they’d only see her legs and squirming body beneath mine.I tongued down her neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, nipped her shoulder.I gave them a good show, bringing my hand to cup her mons.
She was wet.If she hadn’t been, I would’ve kept it as a farce, but finding evidence of her arousal flipped me.The little troublemaker liked being manhandled.A kick of lust shot through me, making me forget everything but making her body sing.My fingers sought her folds, the heel of my hand grinding on her clit.
Her hips jolted off the bed, but I swallowed her gasp with another demanding kiss.
“Well that’s hot,” Robbie, the wild son of an English earl, said in his crisp accent.“Can we watch?”
I both hated them there and loved it, because now that I had the American beauty finding pleasure pinned beneath me, I never wanted to let her up.Not until she went hoarse screaming my name.
I screwed my middle finger into her entrance, nearly groaning when she grew even more wet.The boys were laughing and jeering behind us, exchanging stories about the things I’d done to women that were only half true.
I wormed a second finger inside her and stroked her inner wall, seeking the infamous G-spot.There.A button of tissue wrinkled and hardened beneath my fingers.Her eyes went wide, and she whimpered, moisture leaking from her.Breaking the suction on our lips, I threw a furious look over my shoulder, like I was pissed at being interrupted.“Get out,” I growled in Austrinian to Kaspar.“Keep your fucking friends out of my room.”
