Page 28 of Royal Fling
But somehow, for some weird reason, it was flawless with August. Like the kind of sex they have in movies and romance novels where everything fits perfectly, and every moment is full of heat and passion.
That was exactly how it felt.
And the perfection continued when my orgasm pushed down at my core and emptied inside him at the same time as August sprinkled his white seed on my hand and our chests.
I watched him catch his breath, his cheeks were red, and he looked flustered, sweat beading his forehead. But he looked at peace. And I felt the same.
“Can I… stay here tonight?” he asked.
I smirked and rubbed my forefinger and thumb on his chin, kissing his lips.
“Of course you can. I’m not done with you yet, August…” I paused and slitted my eyes. “What’s your last name?”
He huffed and then blinked frantically.
“Oh that. I… I don’t have one,” he said.
“What do you mean you don’t have one?” I asked.
He licked his lips and took a deep breath, two hands coming back up to the back of my neck.
“It’s a story for another day,” he said.
I kept staring for another moment or two, but then I decided to let it go when he lifted up and kissed me with those sinful lips of his.
What exactly had I got myself into? What had possessed me?
I came to London to find my birth parents, not to hook up with handsome, rich men and sleep in their beds.
And even though I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly was wrong with me, or August, I couldn’t, didn’t want to stop.
So I cuddled up to him, holding him close to me the whole night, and we fell asleep. Until we woke up and we fucked again, and then fell asleep again, and that was how our night went.
A little bit of gentle fucking, a little bit of warm cuddling, a little bit of sleep.
It was no wonder I could barely open my eyes the next morning.
When I did, I found August sitting up in bed, his ruffled bed head looking so adorable I wanted to brush it with my fingers.
There was a knock on the door and that made me sit up, too.
Was that Fisayo?
Shit. I didn’t need her to find August in the room. I had to hide him.
I got up, put my robe on from last night, and so did August, but then he tried to get the door.
“No. Wait. What if it’s Fisayo?” I said.
He smirked and pointed at something on the door.
“Seriously? There’s a peephole on the door? Why did I never notice that?” I asked as he checked the peephole.
“You were sort of busy.” He grinned. “It’s not your mother.”
I straightened up at the word.
Not because I minded him calling her my mother. Shewasmy mother. But more so because I… I didn’t mind that he called her that.
