Royal Disaster by Parker Swift

Author:Parker Swift
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2017-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Dylan urged me through the door to his bedroom, his palm spread widely across my lower back. “In you go,” he said firmly.

I stepped into the dark room, lit only by the light coming from the bathroom door.

Dylan moved behind me, to the side, and stood me in front of a leather club chair. I waited as he poured himself a glass of water and placed it on the table next to the chair after taking a long swig.

“What? No more Scotch?” I asked, following his eyes as he circled me, coming to stand behind me.

“I want my senses about me for this. You were bloody gorgeous tonight,” he said into my ear, his fingertips stroking my arms. “So perfectly yourself. You didn’t let them get to you, and it was fucking thrilling. I want to reward you. I want to sink into you. I want to goddamn consume you,” he said slowly, taking his time, and I gulped in anticipation. “And no more talking,” he said softly, finally settling into the chair before me and gazing up at me. “Undress.”

I giggled a little. “So it’s going to be that kind of night.”

He tsk-ed at me, wagging his finger as he sat down. “Shh, damsel. This will be better if you follow instructions.”

My skin was singing—it felt like there were a million little weather systems moving in the air around me, all electric, all feverish. My breathing was picking up.

I walked up to him, put my hands on the armrests of the chair where he sat, leaned over, and kissed him slowly on the lips. No tongue, just firm, warm lips.

“Can you unzip me at least?” I whispered, our faces centimeters apart, the air between us warming. Our eyes met, and my little challenge added heat to this game. He was getting ready to devour me.

I stood and turned, so my back was to him, and I felt him rise behind me. He dragged the zipper slowly down my back and slid his hands into the dress. They were so warm and felt so big, like he could grab me fully around my middle. His thumbs stroked my underarms, and the subtle movements caused a ripple, a shiver of anticipation.

The dress, now loose, slumped off my shoulders, making room for his hands. He unclasped my bra, and it fell into the dress. Then he pushed the whole thing off my arms and down my body, so it hung in front of me, and my bra spilled to the floor. “I think you can handle the rest yourself.”

I shimmied out of my dress, kicked off my heels, and turned to see Dylan shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves. “On the bed, damsel.” He smacked my ass—hard. I smiled, eager, scurried to his majestic four-poster canopy bed, and perched myself on its edge. I bit my lip between my nervous teeth and sat on my hands. My hair, grown in the last couple of months, drifted around my shoulders.

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