Page 7 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

Jesus. The man is stacked. His chest is strong, with a dusting of dark hair that trails tantalizingly down the center of his body. Those abs look perfect enough to trace with my tongue, and I lick my lips at the thought.

“Your turn,” he reminds me.

Right. It’s only fair, after all. I undo the buttons of my shirt and peel it off my arms. Then I reach behind, unclasp my bra, and let that fall as well.

Ben watches me, silently. Is he judging me? What does he think of my curves, my large breasts? Then I don’t have to wonder before he grabs the enormous bulge in his pants and starts to fondle himself. Jesus. That shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but it makes my thighs clench to watch him openly caress his erection. I want to peel open his pants and feel his fingers in my hair as he pushes me to my knees and parts my lips with the head of his cock. The thought nearly makes me orgasm then and there.

“Your jeans as well,” he says huskily. “Now.”

There’s no room to wiggle out of that command, not by his tone. So I kick off my boots, my socks, and then unbutton my jeans. It takes a little maneuvering, but I shove them off my hips along with my underwear.

Now I’m completely bare in front of him. I’m sitting, naked, on the bed of the next king of England. I should be mortified, but instead I feel another jet of lust pool between my legs and puddle on the prince’s blanket. Whoops.

“That answers it,” Ben says suddenly and I’m so deep in my head that I nearly jump at the sound.

“Answers what?”

“You are a ginger.”

Oh. He’s commenting on the red thatch of hair between my legs. “Is that good?”

Those eyes, dark as well stones, meet mine. “You’re fucking perfect.”

Gulp. Before I can find the words to respond, Ben gets on his knees in front of me. He spreads my legs with his strong arms, bends his head, and—oh God. Those are his lips on my sex, his dirty kisses. His tongue spreads my slit, and he drinks from me, deeply. He laps at my nectar, that flexible muscle pushing inside. Before I know it, I’m gasping and my fingers thread through his black hair as I hump his face.

“Hands off. Palms on the bed,” he commands. His mouth feels so damn good, I quickly retract my hands from his head and place them on the mattress instead to steady myself. Then he dives down again, but this time he’s found my sensitive little nub. Sparks of pleasure zip all through my body as he swirls around it, sucking and gently nibbling the small bundle of nerves. My fingers twist the comforter. He presses one finger inside of me, and then another, all the way to the knuckle, and curls them.

That does me in. Before I know it, I’m careening against the edge. I shout as my orgasm floods through me, pulsing and throbbing around his fingers. He draws it out of me, coaxing every wave from me, until the smallest motion of his tongue makes me jerk and squeal.

When Ben sits up, his mouth and chin are glistening. He wipes both on his arm. “God,” I pant, my legs still spread lewdly because I’m too blissed out to close them. “That was… incredible.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ben says as he catches my head in his hand. “I’m not done with you yet, love.”

He claims my mouth in his, and I moan. I can taste myself on his lips. It’s dirty, forcing me to taste myself like this, but I love it. I find myself lapping at his tongue, hungry for more. He shudders—it’s small, almost imperceptible, but to put even a dent in this strong man’s composure sends a thrill through me.

“Don’t move,” Ben says.

I obey, and he rises to his feet. Ben steps over to one of the rosewood cabinets and opens the top drawer.

“Are you supposed to be going through the prince’s things?” I ask.

Ben doesn’t answer. He procures two dark satin ties. He holds them out in his palms, as though in offering. “Put your hands behind your back.”

I like where this is going already. I obey. Ben goes behind me. I can’t see him, but I feel the mattress sink with his weight. The satin is soft as it slides around my wrists. I feel it loop around my wrists, then between them, and then it tightens. When I try to pull my arms apart, they won’t budge.

I bite back a smile. This is exhilarating.

“Is that too tight?” he asks. He sounds oddly concerned, and I’m surprised he’s asked at all.

I shake my head. “No.”

The mattress springs back as Ben leaves it. He comes back around in front of me and holds up the final tie. “Close your eyes.”

I do. The tie goes around my eyes, blocking out the light. It’s thick and I can’t see a damn thing.

My world goes dark.

5

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