He scratched his stomach, the motion making his arms flex and his pants ride just a little bit lower.
I could see the outline of the base of his cock, and my mouth watered.
Damn the man.
“You’re just going to stand there and present yourself like a peacock?” I asked, enjoying the way that his eyes narrowed just a bit at my tone.
“I think you could be doing something far better with your mouth than using it to sass me.”
“Sass? Is that what you call someone talking back to you?”
My heart fluttered in my chest. I was having too much fun. He helped me get my mind off everything else, and for that, I was grateful because it meant I could just live in the moment.
I needed to. I had never allowed myself that before. So for now, I would have fun. And when he had to walk away, I’d find a way to deal with it. After all, I’d done that already. Countless times when I’d been the one left behind.
I sauntered over to him, a smile on my lips and humor in my gaze as I slowly ran my fingers along the edge of his jeans.
His jaw tightened, and I heard the growl in his chest.
“You’re playing with fire, princess.”
“I think there’s something else you want me to be playing with.”
Then I went down on my knees in front of him.
“Jesus Christ, London.” His voice went raw. “You don’t have to do that.”
I only had to unzip his zipper very carefully and then tug his pants down slightly, and his cock sprang free into my hand.
He was long, hard, and thick. My fingers couldn’t even wrap around the base, and he groaned as I pumped him twice.
“I think you should stop telling me what to do,” I said right before I pounced.
I laughed at him, angling my mouth. I hollowed my throat and bobbed, licking him, taking more. I let his balls fall heavily into my free hand and kept going.
When he tugged on my hair, I didn’t pull back, and then he pressed me farther down onto him, fucking my face as he buried himself in me. I groaned, humming against him.
He pumped and then pulled hard, tugging me away.
I looked up at him and licked my swollen lips, and before I knew it, he was down on his knees in front of me. He sent a brazen kiss across my lips and tugged my hair even harder.
“I’m going to blow my load, and I’m not about to do that down your throat.”
Somehow, I was on my back, my pants were off, and his head was between my legs.
I arched my back as he spread me, licking me, sucking. His tongue stretched me, eating me out as if he was a man dying of thirst and need.
I let my hands work themselves under my shirt, playing with my breasts as I arched my back. The tableau of his head between my legs nearly sent me over the edge.
And then, when he twisted his lips and hummed against my clit, I fell.
I came, jerking in his hold as he pressed my hips down, laughing at my orgasm.
Then he was over me, kissing me, his dick on my belly, hard and wet, and I ached for him.
I ran my fingernails down his back, digging into the skin, and he groaned, deepening the kiss.
And then he pulled away from me and tugged my shirt over my head, and then his hands were on my breasts, his lips plucking at my nipples.
“Kannon,” I moaned.
“That’s it, say my name.”
“Inside me. I need you inside me.”
“Need a condom,” he whispered.
“Hurry. Please.”
I never begged. A princess did not beg. But I would fall to my knees and bow before his massive erection, even if it made me the worst of beggars.
Then he was back, the condom over his length, and he pushed me to all fours.
“That’s it. I want to fuck you from behind. You want that, princess? You want your fingers in the carpet as I pound into you from behind?”
Over my shoulder, I scowled at him. “That’s a lot of talking. Inside me. Now.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
And then he gripped my hips and pounded into me in one thrust.
I froze, his fingers digging into me, my body stretching to accommodate his size.
“Jesus Christ, you’re so tight. Jesus.” He just kept muttering that over and over again, and then I pressed my ass against him, rotating gently. Needing him to move.
In that space, time stretched forever as I waited for him to make love to me. And then he did.
I lowered my head, my cheek to the carpet as he thrust in and out of me, pounding into me as if neither of us knew when to stop.
I met him thrust for thrust, my body aching, my need increasing with each movement.
He slid one hand around, flicking my clit, the other squeezing my breast before coming back to my hips.
My knees ached, and I knew I’d have rug burn in the morning, but if he kept hitting that spot, I really didn’t care.
There’d be aches, and there’d likely be bruises, and it would all be absolutely worth it.
Because this was everything.
I grunted, shouting his name, and then he had me up again, my back to his front as he pounded in me, one hand around my throat, his fingers along my jaw, the other hand over my clit.
“There are other people in the house, princess. They’ll hear you if you shout my name while you’re riding my cock. You’ve got to be quiet. You don’t want them to hear you. You don’t want them to hear how much of a bad princess you are. How much you like taking my cock.”
“Kannon,” I whispered, the illicitness of it all turning me on even more.
If he had said anything like that outside of what we were doing just then, I’d have slapped him, kicked him in the balls,
