Page 28 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

She grins. “All my… stuff is at the hostel…”

“I’ll have someone collect your things.” I trail kisses under her ear and along her neck. She tilts her chin upward to give me more access and sighs deeply. I warn her, “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

I feel her throat vibrate on my lips when she laughs. When I draw my hand under her dress, however, her thighs close tightly to keep me out.

“People can see us,” she whispers.

“You’re right. We should move somewhere more private. My room, perhaps.”

She bites her lip, and her eyes dance with mischief. “Shouldn’t we stay for the rest of the party?”

“Sod the party. I hate these things anyway. They’re a bunch of stuffy wankers. They’ve got their heads so far up their arses they can’t remember what sunshine feels like.”

There’s a shift in her expression, and her eyes look almost sad suddenly. Her small hands rest against my chest. “Are you okay?”

I frown. “Yes. Why?”

“You’re just…” She waves her hand as though trying to pluck the word from thin air. “Frantic. It must be weird to be around all of those people after being alone for so long.”

“I’m not alone. I have Ben.”

That sounded better in my head, but when the words fall from my lips, it sounds pathetic. Truthfully, Ben has been my only real companion over the past ten years. He’s been my brother when I had no one. I can deflect with charming smiles and hot kisses, but even I know how sad that sounds.

Rory, mercifully, doesn’t push the subject. Instead, she hooks a finger around the horrid lace on my lapel and toys with it. “Speaking of Ben… I was thinking. What if we invite him back to your room?”

I blink. “You mean dead-to-me Ben Tolle? That Ben?”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t mean that. Besides, you two have slept with the same women before, right?”

“Yes. We have.”

“So… it would turn me on. A lot.” Those doe eyes lift from my shirt and meet mine. “Please?”

I realize then and there that it’s physically impossible to say no to her. More than that, I don’t want to. I love this side of her—my bold and brash girl who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants. “Smart and kinky.” I grin. “I like it.”

“I’m one of a kind,” she jokes.

I, however, am not joking, not in the slightest when I tell her, “You absolutely are.”

Even in the low light coming from the palace, I can see her cheeks flame up with a blush. If I get any harder, I’m going to burst out of the confining prison of my pants.

“I’ll text him,” I say. I dig my phone out. Ben’s number is at the top of my recent calls. I shoot him the text: Your presence is required. My room. Stat.

I hit Send and tuck my phone away. “Done. He’ll meet us there.”

With that, I step to the edge of the terrace. A lantern flickers above us. There’s a small switch next to the lantern, impossible to spot if you weren’t looking for it. I flip it upward and the secret door clicks as it unlocks. I use the neck of the lantern as a door handle, and the stone splits down the crevices, revealing a hidden entranceway.

Behind me, I hear Rory gasp. When I turn to her, her eyes look like they might pop out of her head. “Is that…?”

“A getaway door? Of course. Useful for assassinations and the like. It’s a little tight,” I warn her. “You’ll have to duck.”

I slip inside and take Rory’s hand to help her down the initial steep drop. She bunches her dress up and steps into the spiral stone staircase.

“Okay.” Rory’s laugh echoes as she follows me inside. “I’m officially wet.”

17

Rory

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