Royal Courting. #4
Fitzroy hitched up my chemise and ran a finger along my spine, sending chills across my skin. A faint moan escaped me, prompting him to pry his mouth from mine and withdraw his wandering hands from beneath my garments.
He tenderly took my face in his palms. “Tell me if you need to slow down,” he said softly, brushing a wayward strand of hair from my cheek.
“I will.”
I stepped backward, slipping from his embrace, and made my way to the bedstead. With the curl of my finger, I beckoned him to follow. Crawling onto the mattress, I felt the weight of Fitzroy close behind.
We knelt together on the sheets, facing one another. For a moment, he held my gaze—then leaned forward, guiding me back until I sank into the pillows. Slowly, Fitzroy lowered himself onto me, his mouth finding my tingling neck. He kissed along its length, sending shivers down my spine.
Gently, Fitzroy fondled my breast through my chemise, smoothing his thumb over my stiffening nipple while I relished every tender squeeze. He glided his hand down my body toward the place he shouldn’t have touched, yet I so desperately wanted him to.
I moaned as he delicately squeezed between my thighs, enjoying the sensation of his hot palm through the thin linen. We passionately kissed while his hand traveled underneath my chemise once more, teasing me with his fingertips until I quivered.
“Do you want me to stop?” Fitzroy asked between kisses.
“No,” I panted out.
After my assurance, his hand drifted upward until his fingers found the crease at the top of my inner thighs. Tenderly, he rubbed my throbbing pillar while I whimpered, then slipped his fingers into my slick folds.
“Damn,” he breathed out as he realized how wet he’d made me.
Fitzroy pulled back and gazed deep into my eyes, making my cheeks blush with vulnerability. “Is that to your liking?” he asked while slowly curling his fingers inside of me.
“Yes,” I mumbled—each stroke making me moan in bliss.
Fitzroy bit his bottom lip as he concentrated on fulfilling my pleasure. Without any direction, he knew where and how to touch, showing me he was familiar with a woman’s body. I couldn’t care less about where he’d been before—I was savoring what past lovers had taught him.
As I shuddered against Fitzroy, his hard member pressed into my thigh—tempting me to touch it through the fabric that separated us.
I became overcome with desperation to feel his skin on mine, pulling at his braies and whispering, “Remove them.”
“Clapas wesan gan.” Garments be gone, he cast while his palms glowed violet.
After he spoke, I felt my chemise melt away as if it was made from water. I glanced down to see Fitzroy was also completely nude—his cock proudly erect between us.
“Show me how to touch you,” I murmured, wanting to make him feel as good as he was making me.
Fitzroy took my hand and spat on my palm before ushering it down to his stiff member.
I clasped my hand around him. “Tighter,” he commanded, and I obeyed.
He guided me as I stroked the length of his shaft, adjusting my grip and speed according to Fitzroy’s groans of pleasure.
“You’re a quick learner,” he panted.
Desire guided me—showing me what to do through aches and needs to satisfy them.
After a moment of touching one another, Fitzroy used his knee to part my legs and place himself between them.
I trembled—the tip of his cock brushed against my opening while he kissed my neck, quickly traveling along my body like a downhill stream.
His lips met the peak of my nipple, and I moaned as he caressed the sensitive skin with his tongue.
“Fitzroy,” I murmured, wanting him to know that his tongue was unraveling me.
Without hesitating, Fitzroy crawled back up the bedstead. “Am I going too fast?” he asked, a flicker of concern in his captivating eyes.
“No,” I said, pushing my hips upward to meet his. “I want you—all of you.”
Fitzroy hungrily kissed my lips as he rubbed his tip against my sweet spot.
“Are you certain?” he mumbled into my mouth, edging his tip in and out of the part of me that ached for him—driving me into a frenzy.
“Yes,” I moaned, succumbing to desire. “Don’t make me beg for you, Fitzroy.”
As his name left my lips he groaned—clearly enjoying hearing me say it while I trembled beneath him.
I didn’t need to beg. Fitzroy guided his cock inside of me, judging how much of him I could handle by how hard I dug my fingernails into his back.
Fitzroy pressed his lips to my ear, gently kissing the lobe before asking, “Can you handle all of me?”
I wasn’t sure—but I nodded anyway.
With one firm motion, he closed the space between us, giving me his entire length. Consumed with pain and pleasure, I buried my face into his neck, breathing in his musky scent.
After the first few strokes, the pressure eased and I relaxed beneath him, moving my hands into his hair.
Fitzroy gazed into my eyes while I admired his handsome face.
At times, his sharp tongue distracted me from how good-looking he truly was.
But while he was deep inside of me—with his only noise being skin-tingling moans—I could clearly see his beauty.
It wasn’t long before Fitzroy was trembling uncontrollably. Quickly, he withdrew himself, shuttling his hand up and down his length as he came across my stomach. For a moment he paused, steadying his ragged breaths before rolling off the mattress.
I thought that now his needs were satiated, he’d up and leave. Instead, he retrieved a cloth from the vanity and returned to the bedstead. With careful, tender strokes, he cleaned me up, then settled down beside me with a contented sigh.
“Come here,” Fitzroy murmured as he pulled me close, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.
I nestled my head against his chest, rubbing my fingers through his body hair as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. My eyes flicked up to meet his, and he held my gaze. In that moment, I understood—Fitzroy didn’t always stare to intimidate. Sometimes, he simply didn’t know what to say.
“Thank you for helping me undress,” I whispered, filling the silence.
He smiled. “For you, anytime.”
I nuzzled beneath his chin, closing my eyes as his steady heartbeat lulled me to sleep.
* * *
When dawn broke, I stirred, reaching for the warmth of Fitzroy beside me—but the space was empty. Sitting upright, I looked beyond the bedstead, where I’d taken off his garments the night before—they had disappeared. If I wasn’t nude, I might have believed it was all a lustful dream.