6. Christian

The Plaza was rightnext door to The Ritz-Carlton, which meant I was quite literally under Niko's nose—which sent a thrill straight up my spine. I tried to not look too obviously over my shoulder while Kale busied himself getting a room, and it wasn't until we were together in the elevator heading up to the twelfth floor that I let myself breathe a sigh of relief.

The room was smaller than mine at The Ritz, but it was partitioned off with a bedroom and a separate seating area, both boasting an ostentatious amount of gold plating. It was rich in that American way they all loved so much. There was a comfortable enough-looking couch, which I promptly took a seat on, kicking my feet up onto the marble coffee table and crossing my legs at the ankles. Kale shrugged out of his coat and unwound the scarf from around his neck, tossing them both onto a chair, which was also gold-plated.

"What does your house look like?" I asked.

He turned toward me, curious expression on his face.

"You could have seen it for yourself," he murmured, popping open the buttons of his collared shirt, one by one, until it was fully open and putting his slender and smooth chest on display.

I licked my lips, dropping my feet onto the floor and leaning closer. I yanked my undone bowtie from around my neck and threw it on the table, then wiggled out of my jacket and let it fall to the plush carpeting. Kale took a step toward me, I stood up, and then he was on me, fingers working madly at the hidden buttons on my own shirt until he was able to properly divest me of it.

"Describe it to me," I managed to get the words out between kisses, but then his mouth was on my jaw, my chin, my throat. I toed out of my shoes, stumbling backward and crashing into one of the Queen Anne chairs opposite the couch. I landed hard on the back of my thigh and Kale's slight weight on top of me took us both straight over the arm and to the floor.

"Has more character than this place," he whispered against my skin, teeth nipping across my Adam's apple as he kissed his way down my throat and toward my chest. His hands went down, working at my belt and my pants. I lifted off the ground and shimmied out of them, groaning when he returned his attention to the erection that was currently trying to drill a hole out of my underwear.

"Tell me more." I set to work on his belt, using my elbows to push up off the floor. Taking him along, we ended up seated, and then it was my turn to explore the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw with my mouth while we both busied ourselves getting him out of his shoes and pants.

"Wide-planked floors," he said, "lots of fireplaces. Oh, fuck."

I smiled against his ear. "I've never seen one of those."

He scoffed and levered his weight, pushing me down again onto my back. So, he liked to be on top. That was interesting. I hadn't thought for one second Kale was a missionary man, but I'd been surprised before.

"What's your favorite part of it?" I asked.

He reached inside my underwear and curled his fist around my cock. I could have died. I wasn't sure I hadn't, because his grip was so sure and so hot, and the sounds that left my mouth couldn't have sounded terribly different from a death rattle. My breath abraded my throat as I gasped, moaning rather surprisingly into his kiss.

"The garden."

"Why?" I croaked.

"It's peaceful," he whispered. "It's mine."

"Are you a possessive man, Mr. Sheffield?"

Kale hummed and gave a long, slow stroke up my cock. "Don't ask questions you know the answer to."

He dragged his thumb through the embarrassingly wet slit of my cock, and I loosed an equally embarrassingly high-pitched moan.

"Are you going to fuck me on the floor, Mr. Sheffield?" I asked, biting the inside of my cheek so I didn't fly into another galaxy as a side effect of my uncontrollable horniness. The adrenaline from the night was finally catching up with me, the rush of excitement and arousal churning together and growing into something that threatened to burst right out of my bones and swallow us both whole. "Or do I get to test out the thread count?"

"Why not both?" he asked.

"I have delicate sensibilities," I warned. "And even more delicate skin. I don't think I could survive the rug burn."

He hummed against my neck, licking a hot stripe up the underside of my jaw. "Are you worried I'm going to fuck you too rough, princess?"

If I had been ten years younger, I would have come on the spot.

"I don't think there's such a thing."

I shoved him off of me and stepped out of my underwear, kicking it toward where we'd discarded the rest of our clothes. I headed into the bedroom, barely having time to take in the ornate white and gold headboard before Kale was behind me, naked and burning hot. His body pressed against mine and he sank his teeth into the curve of my neck.

"I want you like this," he said, reaching around and taking my cock into his hand. He gave another tight and slow stroke up my length, then stepped back and climbed onto the bed.

Kale arranged himself against the headboard, pillows and bedding floating around him like a cloak. He looked like a king, and in his own right, I supposed he was. He carried himself with all the power and authority a king should wield, even if only in theory. I stood at the foot of the bed to take him in, the length of his limbs and the golden glint of the highlights in his hair. The chandelier above the bed was another overdone touch, but the sight in front of me was anything but.

"Unless you're going to magic a condom out of thin air," I said regretfully, "we have a problem."

He groaned, frustration at the delay flashing across his face. He already had his dick in his hand and it was impressively thick, if not an inch or so shorter than mine.

"The inside pocket of my coat," he said, angling his chin toward the lounge we'd entered into.

"Do you happen to carry lube with you too?"

"I'm a boy scout, Christian. Same pocket."

I laughed, heading out to rifle through the pockets of his pea coat until I found the one with a three-fold strip of condoms and a travel size bottle of lube. I tore one of the condoms off and left the rest, taking the supplies into the bedroom where I found Kale with his head thrown back and his mouth half open. He jerked his cock like he had all the time in the world, and he looked like a work of art.

Even though he was slim, the lines and curves of his muscles were visible, pulled taut from the barely restrained tension that coursed through his body. I had the thought of teasing him about not following through with taking me over his lap and spanking an orgasm out of me like he'd promised, but it was hard enough to breathe, let alone speak. I'd save the barb for the glorious haze of an orgasm afterglow.

"How do you want me?" I managed to ask, my voice scratchy and cracked.

I tossed the lube and the condom toward him and he made quick work of both, rolling the latex down his length and slathering himself and his fingers in lube.

"Come here and ride my fucking hand, princess. Get yourself ready for this cock."

I let out a nervous laugh and crawled onto the bed.

"I knew you'd be a talker," I said, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. The position made me taller than him, and he looked up at me with his head tilted back, looking every bit as regal and royal as anyone ever had before or ever would again. With one hand steady against my hip, he teased his slippery fingers up the crack of my ass. His hard and wet cock dragged against mine and I shivered, concerned for the very first time that I was going to finish the night before it even got started.

He teased his way around my hole and then slid one finger in all the way to the knuckle. I rocked against him, already needy for more than just one. I circled my hips like I could somehow turn his finger into his cock by willpower alone, and when I let out a tremulous breath, his nostrils flared, fingers tightening around my waist.

"Lift up," he said gently. "I told you to ride my hand, not grind on it."

"Ask me nicely," I teased, even as my hips began to rise.

"Do as you're told, Christian."

His finger slid out of me and then two were there, stretching against my rim as I sank back down around him.

"Yes, Sir," I rasped, half sarcastic but also entirely serious.

He grunted an approving sound that went straight to my cock and I wanted to hear it again from his mouth, so I did as he'd told me. I started to ride him, and then I was working myself on his hand so hard my dick slapped against my chest, rigid and sticky, and…ready.

"I wish you could see yourself," he said, cheeks flushed, the only splash of color in the entire room. "Turn around."

I was already half gone with lust, but Kale's fingers withdrew and I hated the absence. With a less than graceful shift, I turned so my back was to his chest, and came face to face with the sight of myself in a full-length mirror against the far wall of the room. Beneath me, Kale adjusted himself and then the swollen head of his cock slid across my already well-prepped hole. I bit my lip, and he reached around to take my cock into his hand.

"Just like that, princess," he whispered into my ear as I sank down his impressive thickness. The stretch of him hurt, sending shivers up my spine and gooseflesh down my arms. "Start with the tip. There you go. Just a couple inches to start."

His dirty talk was instruction, and I started to ride the top third of his cock, taking him almost to the tip and back down, a little more with every slide of my body. He touched as much of my cock as I took of his and it wasn't long until the tip was nowhere near enough for me. Gritting my teeth, I bore down and slipped more of him into my body. He rewarded me with a kiss against the side of my neck and a longer stroke up my own shaft.

I rode him like that for a while, getting used to the thick swell in the middle of his shaft, fighting against the uncontrollable shivers that hadn't stopped radiating up my spine since he first pushed into me. Right when I was ready to take the rest of him, Kale's other hand came up and around my throat. Not hard and not insistent, just like…like that was where it belonged.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"You didn't strike me as the kind of man to ask permission, either."

"I ask once," he said, flexing his fingers.

"It's more than okay," I answered, leaning into his touch as I sank the rest of the way down his length. He let out a surprised gasp as my ass landed against his hips, and he gripped my cock so tightly I thought for a moment he was ready to tear it off.

I was still focused on the sight of myself in the mirror, the way his cock disappeared into me and the way my cock was half-obscured by the curl of his fist. My nipples were hard and pink, jutting out and begging for some contact of their own. Without thinking, without asking, I reached up and took them between my fingers, giving a soft twist.

"Fuck." Kale's cock thickened inside of me.

His chin was against my shoulder, and we both watched the sight of us in the reflection of the mirror.

"Do it again," he said.

I did, twisting harder.

He stretched his thumb up under my jaw, pushing my head toward the ceiling, and then he pressed hard, dragging it over my chin and turning my face to the side. I took his thumb into my mouth, sucking and licking at it madly, desperate for something to be in my mouth. His hips thrust up off the bed, and then his mouth was against mine, his thumb sandwiched between our lips. The kiss was awkward and sideways, but he kissed me until his thumb was back digging into my chin and I was moving on top of him, chasing after an orgasm for the both of us.

The only sound in the room was the rough pant of our breaths and the wet slap of our skin. His fingers danced up my cock like it was an instrument he'd been playing his entire life, his mouth against my ear whispering secrets and promises that neither of us had any place entertaining.

"I'm close," I blurted, needing him to stop talking before I fell in love with him.

That was stupid. It was careless. He was a man I'd met on accident who helped me lose my security for a night. A man who wasn't threatened by my defiance. If anything, he was turned on by it. But these moments, in this hotel room, they were all we would ever have. Maybe I could manage a bit of rug burn after all.

"Take what you need, Christian." He bit my earlobe, humming a sound so low and deep it vibrated through my bones. For as much as I loved it when he called me "princess"—the irony not lost—I didn't hate the sound of my name in his mouth either. It was so rare that I heard it used, it was just as special as any kind of endearment.

With one hand on my right nipple still, the left hand behind me and half around his waist for balance, I bounced hard on his lap. Over and over, the head of his cock stabbing past my prostate every time I took him back inside of me. Even with his sweaty hands, Kale's hold on me tightened, and as I sank back around his full length, he held me down, rutting up off the bed to get even deeper into me.

Kale whispered my name as he came. Sounding like a prayer and a promise, it was enough to send jets of cum out of my cock. My orgasm painted my stomach and his hands, and I forced myself to watch in the mirror. I didn't even recognize myself, from the disheveled look of my hair to the dark flush that speckled most of my upper body. My balls were so high, I could see the place his cock disappeared into my ass, which pushed another spurt of cum into his hand.

"Holy shit," he cursed softly into my hair, his hands still against my skin.

I echoed the sentiment silently, leaning back against him and trying to catch my breath. My heart echoed loudly in my ears, mixing with the gentle praise Kale continued to whisper against my skin. I waited until he looked away from our reflection to close my eyes, tears prickling the backs of my eyelids.

I was fine, I told myself.

It was just hormones and arousal and adrenaline all working together and skewing my emotions, because I was Prince Christian Henry Davenport-Spencer of the Chance Islands, and I was many things, but I was not a man who cried after sex.

"I hope you have more in you," Kale said, and I blinked my eyes open quickly, catching the heat in his eyes, once again staring me down in the mirror. "Because I believe this gorgeous ass of yours still has a date with my hand."