Page 20 of Owned By Royal

He returns to me, slower this time, his tongue sliding through my folds with agonizing leisure. He builds me up, brings me to the edge, then pulls back again. And again. I’m panting, writhing, my body coiled tight as a spring.

The fear of discovery only sharpens everything, each distant laugh from the party sending a fresh spike of heat through me.

“Please,” I finally gasp, shameless. “Royal, please, I need to come…”

He sucks my clit into his mouth and slides two fingers inside me, curling them just so, and I shatter. The orgasm crashes through me like a wave, my body convulsing, my cry muffled by my own hand. He keeps licking me through it, prolonging the pleasure until I’m sobbing, overwhelmed, my legs trembling.

He rises slowly, his eyes dark and satisfied. “Good girl,” he murmurs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Now it’s my turn.”

He takes my hand and presses it against the hard ridge of his cock through his trousers. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how fucking hard I am for you?”

I nod, my mouth dry. I’ve never done this before, never wanted to, but with him, I want everything.

“I want you to suck me,” he says, his voice rough. “Right here. Right now. Can you do that for me, princess?”

I swallow, nervous and aroused in equal measure. “I’ve never…”

“I know.” He cups my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “I’ll guide you. Just open your mouth and let me in.”

He unzips his trousers and frees himself, thick and heavy and impossibly hard. I stare, intimidated, but he guides me down with gentle pressure on my shoulder. I kneel before him, the carpet rough against my knees, and look up at him through my lashes.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hand tangling in my hair. “Look at you. On your knees for me. Anyone could walk in and see you like this. See what a good little cocksucker you are.”

I flush at his words, the crude praise sending heat pooling between my legs again. He guides himself to my lips, his grip in my hair tightening.

“Open,” he commands.

I do, and he slides into my mouth, slow and careful. He tastes like salt and musk, like power and need. I close my eyes and focus on the feel of him, the weight of him on my tongue.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hips stuttering forward. “Just like that. Fuck, your mouth is perfect, princess.”

He guides me with his hand in my hair, showing me the rhythm, the depth. I relax my jaw and take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, and his groan echoes through the quiet room.

“Sierra,” he chokes out, his head falling back. “Fuck, princess, just like that. Don’t stop.”

I find a rhythm, my hand wrapping around the base of him, my mouth working the rest. I look up at him, watching his face, the way his jaw tightens, the way his eyes squeeze shut. He’s beautiful like this, stripped of control, at my mercy.

“Your mouth,” he grits out, his hips moving faster. “So fucking good. I’m going to come, princess. I’m going to come down your throat, and you’re going to swallow every drop. Understand?”

I moan around him, the vibration making him curse. His grip in my hair tightens, almost painful, and then he’s coming, his body going rigid, his release flooding my mouth. I swallow, surprised by the taste, the heat, the power of it.

I did this to him. I reduced this controlled, dangerous man to shaking, gasping need. He pulls out slowly, his chest heaving, his eyes dazed. He helps me to my feet and kisses me, deep and thorough, tasting himself on my tongue.

“Perfect,” he murmurs against my lips. “You were perfect.”

We straighten our clothes in silence, the moment too fragile for words. He adjusts his tie, and I smooth my dress. He takes my hand and leads me back toward the door. Before we reach it, someone knocks lightly on the door.

“Royal?” Riccardo’s voice. “Dad needs you.”

Royal sighs. “Of course he does.”

He squeezes my hand once before opening the door. “I’ll find you later.”

“I’ll be here.”

He disappears down the hallway beside his brother. I wait exactly thirty seconds. Then I head in the opposite direction. Marco’s office door is unlocked. My pulse quickens as I slip inside and quietly close it behind me.

The room is exactly as I remember. Dark wood. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. An immaculate desk.