His Princess (A Royal Romance) (28 page)

My surprise fades into a hunger of my own. Her legs spread over my body, straddling me, and she presses against my chest, her soft breasts pillowed against me. I run my hands up her side and she shudders, takes a break, and kisses me again, harder, with tongue this time. I like the feel of the sides of her tits, as they are squeezed against my chest.

She rolls her hips and groans, and her eyes flutter open. I’m hard as a rock, and she can feel it, and smiles. Her pink tongue wets her lips and she kisses me again.

I tug her blouse loose from her waist and she grabs my wrist, holding my hand in place. A full body shudder rolls through her and she lets go, and I more slowly tug the tucked fabric loose and slip my hand up her back.

“Cold.” She winces and kisses me again.

My hand grows warm in a hurry. I slip her skirt up, spread my fingers, and grab a big handful of her firm, big ass. She gasps, and then I squeeze again and give her a light smack on the butt. She jerks in my lap and squeaks, and laughs a little before I attack her with a kiss and swallow her giggles.

I start tugging her skirt farther up, bunching it around her stomach, just enough to get my hand in her underwear. They feel pretty skimpy, and I glance down and realize she’s wearing a black silk thong.

You naughty girl.

My finger slips into her tight, wet body, and she gasps, shuddering all over, and digs her nails into my chest through my shirt.

She’s too tight for two fingers. For now.

Rose writhes on my lap, riding my hand as I slowly slide my finger back and forth. My hand is quickly soaked and she paws me harder as my slow strokes inside her hit just the right spot, and her legs jerk, a little groan forced out from between her teeth.

I feel a sharp nip on my throat.

She
bit me
.

Rose looks almost apologetic, and mumbles, “Sorry.”

“This is what you get for that,” I say, and a second finger sinks inside her.

“Oh shit,” she blurts into my throat, “just like that.”

I hold her against me and feel her writhe as her quivering pussy grips my fingers.

She grabs fistfuls of my shirt and buries her face in my shoulder. She’s so
hot
, her skin like flame, her pussy a furnace. My hand is covered in her slick juices, and I feel like she’s going to break my wrist when she jerks and her legs snap together around my hand.

I turn her around so I can grind my cock in her ass while I finger-bang her. She gives me a wicked look over her shoulder, shifts, and grinds her butt against me while I slip my other hand up and cup her breast, squeeze as she pitches forward, curling up around my hand, her legs shaking, one shoe dangling off her quivering foot.

Her whole body is coiled up like a spring that’s about to snap, and then she does, bucking back against me, crying out before she tries to stifle herself, loses it, cries out again. Her pussy is so tight, I just want to rip her clothes off and shove myself inside her right now until I come over and over, grab her hips, and make her take me to the root and empty my balls in her.

Panting, she collapses against me.

I pull my hand loose and press my fingers to her lips. Without hesitation she sucks, and when I feel her hot lips wrapped around my finger and the suction on the tip, I can only think of how I want her to swallow my cock and look up at me with those big blue eyes and adore me while I blow a load down her throat. She licks my whole hand clean, turns around in my lap, and kisses me hard, her lips salty.

Her butt hits the horn and it beeps, and she jerks back, shocked.

“I-I-I-I need to get home,” she stammers, shaking.

She slips off me, all the way across the bench. Sweaty and shaking, she stuffs her blouse back down and looks at me, confused and flushed.

“Are you okay?”

She adjusts herself and sits in the seat. “I’m sorry I, uh, bit you.”

“Anytime.”

I roll back through the drive-through and order three Happy Meals. The big kid will probably want two of them. I request girl toys.

Rose takes the bags, her fingers brushing mine.

“Was this a date?” she says.

“I don’t know. Was it?”

“I don’t know.”

When we pull into the driveway, the kids are at the window, watching us. Being a gentleman, I get out and walk her up to the door.

“Hurry inside.”

I manage to resist the urge to smack her ass.

“Uh, see you in the morning,” she says weakly. “Ride?”

“Yeah, you can ride me anytime you want.”

“I mean I want to ride you to work. A ride
to
work. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” I sigh.

I plant a kiss right on her lips.

She blinks a few times before she opens the door and walks inside. The kids are still at the window, staring at me like I just stepped out of a flying saucer that landed on their lawn.

It’s a little silly to drive back to my house. I should have just parked there and walked her over. I’ll do that next time.

Goddamn it, Quent. There can’t be a next time. What the
fuck
are you doing? This is crazy. You’re going to get her killed.

I roll into my garage. The garage door rumbles down and I head over to the computer.

Let’s see what Burt’s been up to. I’m feeling frisky.

T
o my surprise
, Karen claims two of the Happy Meals for herself, or at least the food, devouring the cheeseburgers. Kelly ends up with the toys, and that works for me. They eat in the kitchen and then I bundle them off to bed as quickly as I can, and stumble into the bathroom then tumble into the shower.

I’m still shaking. I can’t remember the last time I came that hard… And I
bit
him. I feel weird just thinking about it, floaty. I try to wash it away with hot water, but I can still feel his fingers inside my eager body. My skin is tight and hot all over, like I’m glowing.

I’m full, too. I feel like I swallowed a cow.

This shower is turning into a bath. I nudge the lever over and lower myself into the steaming water as it rises up around my legs, lean back, and let it fill the tub, the heat drawing into my muscles as the water swirls up around my shoulders. I nudge the faucet closed with my food and lie in it, breathing in the steam.

That was…interesting.

I didn’t think I could feel that way about a man anymore. Things were chilly with Russel toward the end, even before I learned about the affair. That time when I was infatuated with him feels like a story someone told me, a happy tale about another person. Not part of my life.

I knew from the start that Quentin was attracted to me. I mean, it was obvious from the way he was looking at me after I got soaked by the damned hose. I’m not stupid. It was only tonight that I started to like it. It’s nice to feel admired, and he doesn’t send any mixed signals. I can wiggle my butt a little and still feel his cock grinding against me.

When the water goes cold I rise, wincing. I’m too young to be
stiff
all the time. I’m only thirty-four. I step out and look at myself. My stomach isn’t as flat as it was when I was younger, and I’m a little heavier, but it doesn’t matter. I
feel
sexy, and twist my hips and blow a kiss at the mirror.

God, Rose. Stop acting like a teenager with a crush.

Once I’ve dried off I slip into my bedroom and into bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. God, I’m tired. I have another class tomorrow and I’m really, really looking forward to seeing Burt tomorrow after that little show Quentin put on.

At least sleep comes fast.

Maybe because I’ve relieved a little, ah, tension.

The alarm clock follows it, bleating at me in an acidic monotone, beep beep beep. I slam the thing with my fist and swing out of bed, lean on the dresser, and sigh. I could sleep for fifty years.

First things first, the kids. Karen practically claws my eyes out when I wake her up, and Kelly stumbles around in a stupor. They were both up too late last night waiting for me to get home. I should put my foot down and insist they get in bed at a proper hour, but I can’t make them go to sleep without seeing me.

I hate this. I’d get a babysitter, but I can’t afford it. If Russel finds out I’m leaving them alone like this, he might use it against me in court and sue for custody. I can’t stop, though. I
have
to get a better job. I can barely feed them. Karen will be old enough to drive soon, and how will she get a car if I can’t pay for it? They don’t pay kids enough at part-time jobs to afford a car anymore, and even if they did, she’d need the car first. I’m not putting her on the bus every day.

Then there’s college, and four years behind Karen, Kelly will be ready to drive. They’ll want things I can’t provide. Neither one of them wants to live with their father, and I bless them for that, but they might have to. The thought of giving them up sickens me.

“Mom?” Karen says between bites of eggs. “You okay?”

“Just tired, honey. I have a lot on my mind. Try to actually stay in school all day this time, huh?”

“Yeah, I will.” She nods.

After I walk them to the bus stop and get ready, I find Quentin leaning on his car, in his driveway. He beckons me over and I smile as I stride across the grass. He’s looking me over and even in these stupid scrubs, it feels good.

“Hey, need a ride?”

“Yeah.”

I drop myself into the car and fight off fatigue. I want to nod off even before he starts it up. The sound of the engine startles me awake, and Quentin backs out.

Mrs. Campbell is eyeing us again, from her front porch as she waters her little garden. Her head swivels to watch us roll all the way down the street.

“What’s her problem?”

I shrug. “Your car is too old for her.”

He snorts. “Whatever happened to taste?”

I sigh.

I’m dreading work like my daughters must be dreading school. I don’t want to get out of the car when Quentin stops to let me off.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I sigh. “Should I take the bus home, or…”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“I have another class tonight.”

“That’s fine.”

I start to step out of the car then slink back and look at him.

“Um, could you do me a favor?”

He leans back in the seat and smirks at me. I swallow, trying to wet my throat.

“Would you mind staying with the girls? Maybe you can get them to go to bed while I’m gone. They stay up too late when I’m in class.”

“I could, I guess.” He shrugs.

“I don’t want to impose…”

“I can work around it. It’s only a few hours. What the hell.”

I beam at him. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing. See you after work.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Resigned to my fate, I trudge inside. Laura is already behind the desk, in my spot.

“You’re on insurance today,” she says, giving me a funny look.

Great. I have to process the insurance claims. I’d rather deal with angry patients with broken teeth and screaming children. Sartre said hell is other people. He was almost right. Hell is other people who work for the insurance company.

I settle into the desk to find that Laura has left me a pile of claims to settle. It’s mostly tedious computer work, until the computer inevitably pops up with an exception.

The first claim I enter pops up with an exception. I can’t do anything else until it’s fixed. So I spend the next hour listening to crackly, barely intelligible hold music that sounds like the distant wailing of the damned.

Oh, joy.

By lunchtime I’ve cleared half of Laura’s backlog from the previous day. By midafternoon I’m partway into my own, fresh backlog.

That’s when Burt strolls up to me.

“How’s that going, getting it sorted?”

“Yes,” I say curtly. “I’m getting it done.”

“Good, good. I’m going to need you to stay late until they’re all cleared. You can lock up when you leave. Hope that isn’t too much trouble.”

It would be, if I was taking the bus. I’ll have Quentin hang out with me until it’s time to leave.

“No trouble,” I say wearily.

“Good. Hop to it, then.”

He retreats into the back and I hear the hygienist giggling. God, how can they stand to let him touch them?

Sighing, I turn back to my work. Thankfully most of my claims clear faster and it looks like I won’t be more than half an hour or so behind. Laura must have been slacking off for
days
. I can’t believe Burt didn’t do something about this before.

Wait, yes I can. Laura probably blew her way out of it and into my desk. I watch her in the mirror as she plays with her hair and types one-handed, oblivious to the scowl of the patient at the desk watching her.

Working here is like pulling out my
own
teeth.

About two in the afternoon, a new patient comes in. I can’t help but notice her. The countertop doesn’t even reach her chest. She must be six feet tall, but in a statuesque, model-ish way, with a full, voluptuous figure, perfect skin, and thick auburn hair so lush it looks like she’s been auditioning for one of those commercials about the orgasm shampoo.

Burt noticed her, too. He greets her in the hallway.

“Hello,” he says brightly. “I’m Dr. Simonson. What brings you in today?”

Miss Model smiles warmly. “I’m here for a cleaning. I just moved to town.”

“Huh,” he says. “Great to see you. We’ll be in soon.”

He walks past her as she heads down the hallway and cranes his head to look at her ass before he ducks into his private office.

I feel dirty, but it’s no worse than what he does half the time. He’s not sick or stupid enough to actually do something to a patient under his care, is he?

I sit back in my chair and start working on processing the next claim. My skin crawls. It feels like someone poured bugs down my back. I hate this place, and I hate Burt.

An hour later, the same patient comes out, scowling.

As she pays her bill up front, she tells Laura curtly, “I’m not coming back here.”

She slaps her credit card down on the counter and Laura runs it, glancing at me. I look up at the woman and she looks away, biting her lip in annoyance.

What did he do?

I turn back to the computer and the words on the screen fuzz. I scrub my hands over my eyes.

I’m not just working here. I’m helping this guy do things to people.

Except I need to feed my kids.

At last it’s quitting time. I’ve slowed down. It’s more like an extra hour of work now. Burt gathers up his harem and leaves, laughing.

“Lock up on your way out,” he says cheerily.

About five minutes later I hear tapping on the front door. Quentin stands outside with his hands in his pockets, smirking at me. I push the door open and he slips inside.

“Thank God, it’s hot as balls out there. So, this is the dentist’s office?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I have to stay after work if you don’t mind.”

“What happened, boss gave you detention? Were you a bad girl?”

“No, he moved me onto a shittier job and gave me more work.”

Quentin’s jaw clenches. “Is that the way of it, then.”

“Yeah, that’s the way of it. You want to hang out in the waiting room? It’s going to be like forty-five minutes. I mean, I can catch the bus…”

He steps closer and takes hold of my ponytail.

“You’re not taking the bus. I forbid it.”

I shake loose of him and then his hand
cracks
on my ass. I jump and squeak.

“Quentin!”

“Get to work. There a remote for this TV?”

“On the coffee table.”

Quentin sits there and watches Spongebob while leafing through a copy of
Yachting Today
and yawning. I work as fast as I can. At six, the insurance offices will close and I’ll have to put off going through the damned claims anyway.

The last one goes through without a hitch at 5:43. I push back from the computer and roll across the floor on my chair, spin around, and throw my hands up as I stand, and stretch until my back pops, my fingers laced over my head.

Quentin watches.

“Do that again,” he says, smirking.

I scowl at him and grab my tote bag.

He snaps to his feet, dropping the magazine on the table.

I start toward the door but he grabs my wrist.

“This his office?” he says, grabbing Burt’s door.

“Yes, but—”

He shoves the door open, pulls me inside, and kisses me.

Burt’s office is full of shit. There’s a big pile of books he’s never read all around the desk, stacked and stacked on each other, all kinds of knickknacks and desk toys. I don’t know what he actually
does
in here, but it’s mostly for show.

“Quentin, what are you doing?”

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him.

“I think you look sexy in that little nurse outfit.”

“I’m not a nurse,” I correct.

“I know, but we can still play doctor,” he growls, shoving his hands up my shirt, behind my back.

I press against him and grab his belt as he unhooks my bra and lifts my shirt up. My heart pounds as I realize I’m exposed and cover my breasts with my arms. He pulls my bra away and tosses it on the floor and my top on the couch, and my heart speeds up.

Christ, Burt could come back, maybe he forgot his wallet or something stupid like that, he could catch us.

Quentin yanks my hands away from my chest and licks his lips as he stares at my breasts. My legs start to shake, and my breath comes in uneven gasps. It’s
cold
in here.

He kisses me, lightly on the lips, pulling back when I try to kiss him harder, teasing me. He’s taller than I am. He just pulls away out of my reach. He takes a step back and whips off his shirt, throwing it over his head onto the couch, and I throw myself on him, pressing my chest to his.

He does what he did last night—he tickles my ribs and runs his fingertips along the outside curve of my breasts as they press against his chest. Only now he pushes his hands between us and cups them in his palms, stroking the nipples to hardness with his thumbs, sending shivers down my spine.

Quentin sinks into the couch and I slide down his body, tugging at his belt, biting my lip in anticipation. I spread his jeans open and find his cock hard in his boxers, and tug them down. With my breasts pressed against his stomach I rub the head of his cock against my body and lightly lift his balls out of his underwear, sliding my fingertips over them as they harden.

As I slide down I press him between my breasts, glancing up to see him staring down at me. He runs his hand over my head and tugs my ponytail loose, and fists his hand in my hair. I gasp, feeling it pull a little. I start to slide down but he stops me with a light tug on my hair, so his cock stays pillowed between my breasts. He likes that, I realize.

I slide up and down a little bit, and duck my head to flick my tongue against the tip of his cock. He goes rigid, bucking under me. I can feel the power in his body, the agonized need. He’s so hard, and
hot
. He doesn’t let go of my hair but he doesn’t stop me from going lower now.

I settle on my knees between his legs and take him in my mouth, closing my eyes as the heat of his cock head passes between my lips. I flick my eyes up to watch him, but he’s already watching me, his face red, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth.

I go slow, and he tightens his fist in my hair, starts to take over, pumping his cock into my mouth. It pushes into my throat and I flinch in reflex and cough. He lets me pull back and breathe before plunging in again. As he pushes down I push harder, feeling his cock invade my throat, reach deeper and deeper.