Royally Matched(70)

“Jesus, fuck.” I groan, writhing with pleasure.

My words encourage her, and while her mouth stays occupied, her hand tightly wraps around my shaft, like she knows I like it, and strokes me in long, firm pumps. When I curse again, Sarah moans and I feel the vibration down to my fucking soul.

And that’s when I snap, when I decide I can’t stand another second of not being inside her.

Sitting up, I grab Sarah under her arms and haul her against me. I place my hand in her hair, wrapping the strands tight around my fingers, gripping with my fist, and Sarah’s palms splay against my face, fingers digging—each of us holding the other willingly captive. While our mouths devour each other, teeth clicking, tongues swirling and stabbing.

It’s rough—the roughest I’ve let myself be with her and she releases moans of pleasure.

Then I grab her hips, drag her right over my dick, and plunge up into her, hard and full. We both moan and it’s fucking gorgeous. But I notice when her brows pinch and eyes squeeze in a small, quick grimace.

With one hand against the nape of Sarah’s neck and the other at her spine, I still her, making her meet my eyes.

“Are you sore?”

She smiles with a shrug. So bloody beautiful. “Only a bit.”

I swallow hard, and skim my palm up over her ribcage, to her breast. “We can stop, Sarah. There’s other things we can do…I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt, not really.”

I lower my head, licking at the tight berry of her nipple—bringing it to my mouth for a suck.

“Not really?” I say with my lips around her, biting just so. “What does that mean?”

Sarah’s chin lifts for a moment, neck arching—giving me more of her tits. But then she reverses course, pulling her breast away with a wet pop and bringing her own mouth down to the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my neck.

And then she bites me. Really bites me. Not breaking skin but definitely leaving a bruise.

“Does that hurt?” she asks, so sweetly. Then she does it again.

I hiss, and my fingers grasp at her thighs. “Yes.”

She kisses the sting, licking at her teeth marks.

“Do you want me to stop?”

This time she sucks as she bites down, and my cock twitches inside her.

“No,” I pant.

Sarah lifts her head and kisses my lips. “That’s what ‘not really’ means. That it hurts only a hint but feels so good, it doesn’t matter. I want more.”

And she’s so hot and wet and tight around me, my eyes roll closed. She wraps her arms about my neck as I grip her hips and guide her forward and back, slowly, moving her up and down on my cock, before skimming my hands over her thighs and letting her take over.

“I don’t…,” she whimpers against my ear. “I don’t know how.”

“There’s no how, love. Move however feels good. Any way you want.”

She closes her eyes and bites her lip. Then she swivels her arse, testing the feel of it. And Christ, she’s a quick learner. Her chin dips and her spine curls, “Oh . . . oh that’s . . . you’re so deep this way, Henry.”

My lips drag across Sarah’s collarbone. “Yes, so fucking deep.”

I drag the tip of my finger down the column of her spine, then back up again, as she rides me. Her breaths come harsher, and her hips move faster and she’s lovely, wild in her passion—chasing the peak for us both.

Sarah’s pelvis loses its rhythm, shuddering and jerking, thighs trembling where her knees dig into the bed.

I suck at her earlobe, craving the sound of her voice.

“Are you going to come, sweets? Come hard for me? All over me?”

A high pitched gasp escapes her throat.

“Say it,” I rasp harshly. “Say it now.”

Sarah’s arms tighten around my shoulder and her voice floats from her mouth.

“I’m coming . . . oh, oh . . . I’m coming.”

I skim my finger down her back, resting it at the top of the cleft of her arse—and then I press down—and Sarah’s muscles tighten everywhere at the new sensation. And then she’s flying, coming, spasming with a tight cry all around me—wrenching a deep, soul-ringing orgasm from me, along with her.

I pulse inside her, over and over, like it’s never going to stop.

But when it does, we’re two sweaty, sticky, messy, kissing, laughing . . . loving things—all wrapped around and inside one another. I brush Sarah’s damp hair back from her face, look up into her eyes and in a weak voice say the only word that’s appropriate.

“Hallelujah.”





EVENTUALLY, the time comes when we have to stop. And that’s after two days. Most of the crew has recovered from the food poisoning and we’re set to resume filming. Down at the docks. It’s to be a sunset cruise, dinner and dancing—very romantic. I was an idiot to think I could go on as if nothing had changed when everything had.