Return of the Prince Page 22

  I was more than happy to comply as he nipped at my jaw, then my collarbone.

  He stroked deeper, each thrust hitting both my clit and that hidden spot deep inside.

  “Oh my god,” I whispered.

  “You feel fucking amazing. I’ve waited so fucking… so long… wanted you.”

  With whispered sex words muttered in the darkness, the shiver of bliss came on strong, snaking rapidly down my spine, the spasm racking my whole body and ending in my toes. But it wasn’t until he lifted his head, kissed me deep, and slid a hand between us to stroke the bundle of nerves between my folds that I flew apart, unable to hold on to my illusion of control any longer.

  “You’re so sexy when you come.” With another deep stroke, Tristan groaned into my neck, his whole body shuddering.

  I MIGHT WELL BE BROKEN.

  I was pretty damn sure I was broken.

  But Tristan wasn’t. He held me close, gently stroking my back. Eventually, he got up, removed the condom, and helped clean me up.

  When he came back to bed, I noticed he was still semi-hard. “Jesus, how can you go again?”

  His smirk was immediate as he slid in behind me and pulled me close. “I’ve been dreaming of nothing else for years. I have built up quite the fantasy list to try out with you.”

  He went in for another kiss, this one hungrier. Bolder. “Tristan…”

  “Yes?” He devoured my lips. I wiggled my hips against his hardening erection, and he hissed curses into my mouth. “You see, this is all your fault.”

  Gently, he turned me over, his thumb sliding over my cheek as he met my gaze. “You okay? Not too sore?”

  I responded by lacing my fingers into his hair again and giving the strands a tug.

  Tristan shuddered. “Jesus, Ariel.”

  Something deep inside me pulled. God, I still wanted him. My prince. How was that even possible? My limbs felt like noodles. Gently, I drew his hand to my right breast.

  His eyes flared, and his lips parted as he whispered my name. I widened my legs, giving him the invitation he was asking for. He kissed me again, his palm curving around my breast and testing the weight. His thumb slowly circled my nipple, and his hips rocked against me, positioning his rock-hard cock at my cleft again.

  I knew from experience just how good he’d feel. Knew I’d be climbing toward orgasm in no time.

  Gently, he nuzzled the cleft of my breasts, and I whimpered.

  Tristan bracketed my hands above my head again. “You’re so naughty. Making me want you. How do you think I should punish you?”

  His tone was stern, but his gaze was mischievous. Of course, I played along. “I’m not sure. I didn’t mean to be naughty.”

  I smirked and tried to press him closer to me. I was so wet with wanting him. He could just slide in again, and we’d both be coming in moments. With every stroke and tug of his deft fingers on my nipple, my body softened.

  Tristan kissed a path to my nipples and teased the puckered tips with his lips. His warm breath whispered over my flesh, and I shivered. When he closed his lips over the stiff peak, I slammed my eyes shut and moaned. His gentle tugging movements caused an answering pull in my core. I was dying for him. Needed him to fill me again.

  He pulled back though, and with a hand on my hip, he turned me over. Oh, hell yes.

  His hands ran gently over my ass. “I wonder. How does my girl feel about being spanked?”

  I stiffened. “You will not spank me.”

  “You don’t like it, or you're indignant?”

  I paused to think about that. I’d never been spanked before, so I had no frame of reference. I was mostly indignant that he thought he could. The idea of it though… intrigued me.

  “Indignant.”

  I could hear his smile. “That’s what I thought.”

  The swift smack to my ass was more surprising than painful. “Did you seriously—”

  Another one came on the other cheek.

  Holy hell, I was wet. But still, I wiggled in protest. At least I thought it was protest. I was sort of angling for his palm again.

  His breathing was ragged and his voice guttural when he spoke. “Still indignant?”

  I cleared my throat. “Less so now.”

  “Hmmm, noted.” He ran his hands over my ass again, and I shivered in anticipation. Gently, he lifted me up so my ass was in the air. I followed his lead. I’d have done just about anything if it meant he’d give me an orgasm.

  I expected his palm again, but instead it was his tongue. He grasped my hips tightly and lapped at me from behind. “Do you know your ass is a thing of beauty? I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of it.”

  I tossed my head back as he licked and stroked my clit. With every flick of his thumb, I would get closer to ecstasy, then he would back off my pleasure button.

  The stroke with his firm tongue was a shock as he licked the entire length of my slit. The second sure stroke was a promise. Every stroke of his tongue between my wet folds was a race to orgasm. The third lick was a seduction. He avoided my clit and teased around it, instead, sucking at my pussy lips and licking my slit. The tip of his tongue circled my opening, and he pushed it in as far as it would go.

  I reached back and held on to his hair, urging him to go faster, to give me what I needed. But he continued at his own pace. When he slid one finger inside my tight entrance as he licked, I expelled a long breath. “Oooh.”

  He retracted his finger, only to reenter me with two. Finally, his tongue swept over my clit. With his teeth, he gently teased it, suckling the hot spot as he had my nipples.

  My orgasm crashed into me with the force of a tidal wave. I hadn’t known I was so close until he'd started in on my clit. I came—hard. As I came and came, he continued easy, lazy strokes. His fingers and his tongue showed no signs of giving me any rest.

  When I’d tumbled down from my high, he continued to lick at me. Eventually, he stepped back from his feast.

  I panted as I held onto him. He muttered nonsense words, crooning to me. Telling me how sweet I tasted, how beautiful I was.

  Tristan reached over to the bedside table for his wallet and pulled out another condom. When he lined himself up with me, I arched into his touch, begging for more from him. He sank deep, his big body covering mine. His muttered curses in my ear. “I really, really wanted to take my time, but you're so damn tight. God, you feel so good.”

  He slid his hand into my hair, gripping loosely, careful not to hurt me, but he was relentless with his lips, his teeth, his dick. He slid his hands up my torso, bringing me upright against his body as he made love to me. He kissed and nipped at my neck and shoulders, whispering about all the things he’d dreamed of doing to me.

  “You’re so fucking tight… made for me… fit in my palms just right.” He didn’t stop talking to me, didn’t stop making me feel as if I was going to be hit by a lightning strike of pleasure at any moment. But in the end, it wasn’t the dirty words that had me careening off a cliff.

  It was the simple ones he whispered as he started to come.

  “I love you. I have always loved you.”

  And then I was lost, chasing him into the abyss of pleasure.

  TWENTY-TWO

  ARIEL…

  I WAS SORE. Like sore, sore. Like sore in places I didn't even know I could be sore.

  Tristan still had an arm wrapped around my waist. Well, sort of wrapped around my waist. His big palm cupped one of my breasts. Every now and again he'd give it a little possessive squeeze in his asleep.

  How was any of this possible? After everything? He was mine. All mine. I still had questions of course. Like what the hell would happen with Ella? And how in the world were they just going to continue the fake relationship? Although I supposed they didn't need to anymore. But how would that work? How in the world was any of this going to work?

  I eased out of his hold carefully, determined not to wake him. He'd been, uh, enthusiastic the night before, and I knew he had a practice
that day. If I was feeling sore and groggy and lethargic, I could only imagine how he was feeling.

  I thought of the way I’d tried to beg off from another orgasm, and he’d still demanded one and given it to me. Then he’d pulled me against the hard length of his body and expected me to sleep. He told me I would be sore. He told me that he wasn't going to make love to me again because it would hurt and this morning I wouldn't be able to walk right.

  But then I had been demanding and insistent. And now, I was pretty sure I couldn't walk right. He was so damn... big. And last night had been… Jesus Christ, I didn’t even know what it was. All I knew was that I had never experienced anything like that in my life. And fuck, I wanted it more.

  But what did it mean?

  It means you have permission to be happy.

  I wanted to ask all the questions, but I needed to stop. I was going to make myself crazy. I needed to just relax and enjoy this. Oh, and I also needed to call Penny and tell her holy hell, orgasms are the jam.

  When I finally managed to escape his grip, I sat up in bed, pulling a sheet tightly around me and wincing as I headed to grab some water. When we got home, we were going to have to invest in a lube company. Also, it looked like I was going to need some Pilates or something to stretch the inner thighs.

  Tristan thrashed in the bed. Moaning and mumbling under his breath.

  I frowned. What was he saying?

  "Stop. Please leave me alone. I don't want this."

  Oh God. What was happening?

  "Ashton, I'll tell Mom and Dad." He made this low keening moan, and I realized he was in the throes of some horrific nightmare.

  I ran to the side of the bed and shook him hard. "Wake up, Tristan. Wake up for me." When he didn’t, I put my hand in the water glass to wet it and then slapped him on the cheek.

  That did the trick. He startled awake and jerked upright. "Fuck." He blinked rapidly. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but since when do orgasms warrant slapping?” he croaked.

  “You were having a nightmare.”

  He paled. “Did I wake you?”

  “N-no. I was already awake. But you scared me a little… It sounded bad. What were you dreaming about?”

  “I can’t remember. Come back to bed."

  "No. I'm not coming back to bed. That looked really bad. You were mumbling your brother’s name."

  He blanched. "No idea why."

  "Tristan, you were a having horrible nightmare about Ashton.”

  The horror on his face broke my heart. "What did I say?"

  "I don't know. You tell me."

  I reached for him, and he scooted just out of reach. “I don’t want to talk about it, Ariel. Can’t we just go back to bed and pretend the night was perfect?”

  "Tristan, I don't want us hiding anything from each other. I don't want to pretend. I just want to be with you and share the good, the bad and the ugly."

  "I promise you, you're not going to want me when you know the ugly."

  "Tristan, my father was a traitor. It doesn’t get any worse than that. Whatever is going on, you can talk to me.”

  His gaze snapped to mine. "Not about this. You were innocent. I…” His voice trailed. “I need you to let this go. Please. I just want to finish out the perfect night. Please.”

  The pleading in his voice broke me. “Okay…” I dropped the sheet and climbed back into bed next to him. Only when I lay my head on his racing heart did I finally feel the tension start to ease out of his body. He was afraid. Something was scaring him.

  But what?

  He tucked me against his body, sliding his leg between mine. But he just held me, despite the thick erection throbbing between us. This wasn't about sex. He really did just want to hold me.

  ARIEL…

  Eventually Tristan drifted back off to sleep, but my consciousness hung in that space between dreams and wakefulness. My mind played what he’d said in his nightmare over and over again. The distress. The fear. The child’s voice.

  His brother had done something to him. I knew it like I knew my own name.

  I tilted my head and watched him sleep. A light etching of a frown told me his dreams still weren’t entirely peaceful.

  My phone buzzed on my nightstand, and I rolled to grab it. When I glanced at it, there was a message from an unknown number. Automatically, I swiped it to read the message.

  Unknown: You should have listened to me and not come back. Now you’ll pay for your disobedience.

  What the hell? It was only then I realized I had the wrong phone. Shit.

  I sat up. Who the hell was texting him? Not to mention threatening him? Quickly, I checked his breathing. He was fast asleep.

  I scooted out of the bed and padded over the cool tile to my laptop on the desk under the window. The text had come in from an unknown number, but I’d set up a monitoring program to track calls that came to him or that he made.

  Invasive yes, but that was actually part of the job. With his life in danger, privacy was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

  But you’re about to hack his phone…and that’s out of purview.

  The guilt on that one stung more, but still I couldn’t stop. I needed to know. Especially if it was a threat. It took me less than five minutes to get his password. It was the date we’d met.

  Once I was in, my stomach roiled. There was a history of text messages from an Unknown number going back years. All threatening him with retribution and blackmailing him not to return to the Winston Isles.

  I had a pretty good guess who they were from, but there was no way he had access to a phone.

  You know the rules verify. Always verify.

  I pulled up a program I’d made to track incoming signals and where they came from. When the program spat me out a location, my gut twisted. It was a bitch when you were right about things. And since I was right, it meant once again team Winston Isles couldn’t trust anyone.

  With another glance over at Tristan, I allowed myself one minute for my broken heart. He’d been hurt. And we had lost all these years together because of one person. And the fury it filled me with made me capable of all kinds of things in the moment.

  I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, and I took it into the bathroom to make my call.

  Penny picked up on the first ring. "Hey, everything okay?"

  "I need you."

  "Anything. You will be saving me from the monotony of palace appearances. What's going on?"

  "We are going to do something that's probably going to get me arrested. And very likely, one of us might get maimed in the process."

  "Sweet. When do we leave?"

  "You don't want to know what it is?"

  "Well, you're calling me before you get arrested. So that means that you need help."

  "No, I don't need your help. I want you to talk me out of it."

  "Not gonna happen. You know how this goes. I'm Thelma to your Louise."

  "Are you sure I'm Louise?"

  "Well, we can both be Louise. I really don't care. If you're into something, I'm into something."

  "There a good chance someone is going to get hurt."

  "Oh, fantastic! I have the perfect outfit for an ass kicking."

  "Jesus, you’re crazier than I am."

  "And that's why you're my best friend. So, what’s wrong?"

  "I need access to Stanstit Prison. I know who’s trying to kill Tristan."

  "Awesome. When do we leave?"

  To be continued in To Love a Prince…

  THANK YOU

  Thank you for reading RETURN OF THE PRINCE! I hope you enjoyed this installment from the Royals Elite Series.

  Continue the saga about the mysterious Prince Tristan and the sassy determined Ariel? Find out what happens in the next book…To Love a Prince

  The good news is, I’m out of exile and I have the woman I love by my side. And I still have my crown, tarnished though it may be.

  * * *

  The bad news is…all of that is temporary.


  * * *

  There are those that want me as far away from the crown as possible. I still have a killer on my tail who has a more permanent solution in mind. Oh and there’s the small matter of all the secrets I’m keeping from Ariel.

  * * *

  For her I risked it all, but will she wind up paying the price?

  * * *

  Once she knows my secrets. What will she do to protect me and the crown?

  * * *

  What will I be willing to do to protect her?

  * * *

  The answer is: everything.

  * * *

  Pre-Order TO LOVE A PRINCE Now>

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