Page 20 of Coronation
“We aren’t there yet, are we?” I ask, looking around, too. My question is answered as soon as I get a better view of our surroundings. There is no house to speak of, just fields and a small, dense patch of trees just behind us. The only sound is the car’s engine idling quietly.
Before Ben can offer any insight, however, a speaker on the ceiling clicks on. “My apologies, Your Highness,” comes the voice of a man who could only be the driver. “There are sheep in the road.”
My mouth pops open as I lean closer to the window, struggling to make out the road in front of the car. Sure enough, several woolly bodies are in view, and I let out adelighted laugh as I look back at Ben. “Can we get out? To see?”
He stares back at me, clearly bemused by my enthusiasm, but agrees after a quick glance behind the car confirms there is no one in sight. We get out onto the road, and my cheeks ache from how large my smile is. There are at least a dozen sheep standing in the lane, apparently untroubled by the car that’s stopped only ten yards away from them, milling about with the occasionalbaa.
I don’t have to look far to find the cause. A gate to a nearby pasture is standing ajar, and its occupants have clearly capitalized on the accident to wander freely into oncoming traffic.
“Come on! Out of the road!” I call as I march over to the nearest of the animals, waving my arms to keep them from moving in the wrong direction. “You’re all very lucky you didn’t get run over.”
There are lots of louder, more disgruntledbaas, and I beam at Ben when he appears beside me, frowning but still holding out his arms to help.
The herd is alarmed by our presence and trots away whenever we get too close. It’s a lot trickier than it looks, but the driver joins in soon—looking quite uncharmed by this development—and the three of us manage to get the reluctant herd back into their pasture without incident.
My heart is full as I stand with my hands resting on the fence, only looking away from the sheep to beam over my shoulder at the two men. Benedict opens his mouth to say something, but the driver clears his throat significantly, and his words turn to a grim smile. “A job well done, I believe,” he tells me, reaching out a hand.
I take it, allowing myself to be guided back into the car without complaint. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” I ask as we settle back into our respective seats.
This question earns me an amused look. “I’m not sure aboutfun. It was a break from the ordinary, at least.”
“What did you do before you were king?” I ask as the car begins moving again, leaving behind our newly acquired livestock friends. “Not a veterinarian, I’m guessing.”
This comment is met with a scoff. “God, no. I was a working royal, in a part-time capacity. Technically.”
The vagueness of the answer has me looking away, the corners of my lips pulling down unhappily. Am I allowed to call him out on his evasiveness? This is… what are we even doing here? I have no idea.
The past twenty-four hours have had enough twists and turns to fit into any script, and I haven’t worked out if it’s okay to be feeling quite so attached to a man I just met. Whatever it isseemsto be mutual, but there’s still a sliver of fear—likely planted during the icy switch he flipped last night—that I might be wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.
A warm hand finds my face, guiding it around to meet a pair of intensely dark eyes. “It’s nothing very exciting, darling,” he assures me calmly, correctly guessing the cause for my sudden silence. “I sat on the board of several royal-sponsored organizations. My brother preferred me as a background figure.”
There’s a lot of subtext there, and if I were to hazard a guess, it would be that growing up as a prince came with some unique childhood trauma. While I’m endlessly curious, I keep my mouth shut, only nodding in acknowledgement.
Benedict’s hand finds my thigh, his fingertips brushing over the delicate skin just below the hem of my dress. “Never mind all that,” he tells me in a low rumble. “I believe we were having a discussion before the local livestock rudely interrupted.”
I’d forgotten, actually, but Ben obviously did not. Behind him, more wild countryside flashes by outside thewindow, and in the time it takes me to compose myself, the heat in the back seat seems to have risen. Significantly. “Was there another point you wanted to make?” I ask innocently, and my aching inner walls contract as his touch drifts another inch up my thigh, slipping beneath my dress.
“Come sit in my lap. I think showing is better than telling in this instance.” His voice has dropped, becoming something much closer to the low, gruff tone he used on me last night.
It feels dangerous how quickly my body responds to him, how easily I forget all about my apprehension of a few seconds ago, as I scramble over the center console to settle my thighs on either side of his. In his trousers, Ben is already hard, the long, thick length of him straining against the material and pressing against my bare pussy. I suck in an unsteady lungful of air at the delicious texture of the linen on my swollen clit.
“Good girl,” he grunts, lifting my dress over my breasts so he can see my body. Heat prickles beneath my skin as his gaze travels from my tightened nipples, down my stomach to the place where I’m now shamelessly squirming against him. “Lean back. Show me how wet you are.”
A weight drops into my core, and I know I must be blushing. Nobody has ever spoken to me this way before or asked me to… display myself for him. Even so, I obey, bracing both hands on his knees and tilting my body away so he can see every inch of my bare flesh, almost panting at how turned on I am.
It’s intoxicating to see the look of naked desire that crosses Ben’s handsome features before he schools it into something much more controlled. “I believe I asked you toshow me, Zelda.”
He can’t mean… My cheeks burn, and my every breath is labored as I balance my weight on one hand, using the second to slip teasingly down my flat stomach to the throbbing cleft between my legs. I keep my eyes on his face, cataloging every tiny reaction as I use two fingers to part my slit and spread them into a V, allowing him to see how undeniably soaked I am.
Ben’s pupils dilate, and for a long moment, he seems to be unable to do anything but stare. Finally, when he’s had his fill, he looks up at me, and the animalistic hunger in his expression can no longer be contained. “Take my cock out. Now.”
The bossiness is totally doing it for me, and he definitely doesn’t need to tell me twice.
Practically panting, I lurch forward to fumble with the button and zipper of his trousers. Both of us groan when they’re finally open and I can reach inside, wrapping my hand around the thick base of his cock. God, it’s no wonder I’m so sore after taking this monster inside me—was it three times last night? Four? At the moment, it doesn’t really matter, and I don’t really care.I want more.
Before I can commence begging, however, Ben’s hand finds my chin. Gripping it harshly, he forces my gaze to meet his, ensuring I can’t look away as he utters only two words. “Turn around.”
I blink, taken off guard. My bare pussy is inches from his cock, soaked and aching to be filled by him again. I’m desperate to please him, though, so I do as he’s ordered me to, clambering awkwardly off his lap in the confined space. When I go to straddle him backwards, my palms planted on the divider in front of us, Benedict stops me. Instead, he grips my hip in one hand, guiding me slowly back into his lap.
