Page 15 of Royal Rebel

TRISTAN

Amelia and I have had a full week to ourselves without having to do anything business related. We were to get comfortable with one another, learn things about each other, and figure out if we were compatible.

Given the way my body reacts to her every time she’s around, we’re fucking compatible. We’re learning and we’re getting comfortable, so I’d say we’re starting off impeccably. But things are about to change. In a few days we’ll get our assignments from the palace and a good portion of our time won’t be our own anymore.

Today, I want to take her on an adventure. Something I love to do, but not many people know about. In fact, I’m not even sure I’ve been photographed doing this before. It’s one of my favorite things, and I want her to enjoy it too.

“Tristan?” I hear her coming down the stairs. “Are you okay?”

I’m sitting in a chair in the quiet living room, looking outat the ocean. It’s a crisp, cool day, and the water is calm. Waves don’t crash, they leisurely make their way to the shore, then they’re almost lazy in their ascent up to the beach, before traveling back out into the pool of water, only to make the trip again. I probably look brooding, because that’s what everyone assumes about me, but I’m not. Not really. I’m thinking, trying to figure out how she’s going to respond to what I’m about to say.

I like dangerous things, living on the edge, being a rebel. It’s just now, I have to do it under the radar. I’ve been like this since my mom died; a therapist told me it had to do with the guilt of being the only survivor of the car crash we were in, and I suppose that’s right, but it hasn’t changed the way I am. That’s what I tell myself, but even I realize I like living on the edge and pushing boundaries more than the average soon-to-be king.

“I’m good.” I clear my throat, turning around to face her. “The day is as beautiful as you are.” I slowly walk over, placing the palm of my hand on her hip, before I lean down, kissing her on the cheek.

She always blushes when I compliment her. It’s become a bit of a game for me. To see how red I can make her cheeks. I’m dying for the day when I can put that flush in them for something we’ve done physically. We haven’t moved that far yet, but it’s going to be soon, I can tell.

“Thank you.” She ducks her head in a slightly bashful manner.

“What are your plans for the day?” I circle my arms around her waist, crowding in so that she has to tilt her head back to look up at me.

“My plans?” She grins sheepishly and shakes her head. “I don’t really have any.” Her teeth are impossibly whiteagainst the dark color she has on her lips. Truth be told, it’s so perfectly applied it makes me want to mess it up slightly, and before I can temper my reaction, that’s what I do.

“I have plans.” My voice is deep, a guttural declaration as I capture her lips with mine.

When they touch, Amelia releases a softmmm, and that sound? Goes straight south, with a detour to my heart. I feel her small hands go up under my shirt, testing the feel of my skin. I’ve never had a woman’s touch almost unman me the way hers does. The simplest of caresses makes me as hard as a teenager looking at his first porno mag. It would be embarrassing if it were with anyone but her.

Our mouths are twisting this way and that as our feet are trying to take the weight we’re throwing around. I’m not even sure where we’re going, all I know is I’m walking backward, and I know there’s a couch or a chair somewhere in the vicinity. The back of my legs finally encounter something. Not wanting to accidentally sit on the coffee table, I reach back, feeling material. With a grunt, I have a seat, pulling her on top of me, spreading her legs around my waist, and moving my hands down to cup the cheeks of her ass to pull her tighter into me.

With other women, it’s not been like this. I haven’t enjoyed the playing. Anyone I’ve ever been with before would call me the fucking most selfish lover they’ve ever had. It’s always been about me getting off. Yeah, I got them off too, but it wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t seducing them with soft kisses and palms cupping their asses. It was going after them hard, almost begging them to have an orgasm right after I was done. Amelia? She’s changed something in me, flipped a switch I didn’t know was there. It’s interesting finding outnew things about myself, when I thought I knew everything there was to know.

I can feel her heat around me, can feel her slightly bumping her hips against the length underneath the jeans I wear. Her tongue is tangling with mine, her hand in my hair, holding me to her, the other hand, moving down my body to where my belt buckle rests. One of my hands has come off her ass and is moving underneath her shirt, up to where her breasts are held by what I can feel is some sort of lace. Fuck what I wouldn’t give to rip the shirt off her body and have a go at her right here. But I can’t, there are people around, and with her, I’m not into exhibition. When I get her naked, either over top of me or beneath me, it’ll be for my eyes only.

Ripping our lips apart, I gasp deep breaths in, trying to get oxygen into deprived lungs, while she does the same. Her forehead rests against mine as we pant against each other, both licking the taste of one another off our lips.

“Believe it,” I pant, letting out a breath, “or not, that wasn’t what.” I reach down adjusting myself against her. “I meant when I said I have plans.”

She giggles, the sound deep in her throat. “What exactly are your plans then, Tris?”

She’s taken to calling me Tris, and fuck if I don’t love it. Tilting my head back, I give a cocky grin as I see her lipstick is slightly smudged. Mission accomplished. With the pad of my thumb, I wipe it off, fixing the imperfection, while giving myself a pat on the back. Sitting her slightly away from me, I take a second to compose myself, before speaking.

“We have a few days left before we’ll be working in an official capacity, and I thought today, if you didn’t have plans, I could take you out and show you something I really enjoy.”

Her eyes are shining bright as she looks down at me. “Idon’t have any plans, I’d love to see whatever you want to show me.”

Something in my heart twinges at the honest tone of her voice. No one’s been interested, truly interested in things I enjoy, in a very long time. Sure there have been people who’ve pretended. I entertained them because that’s what I was supposed to do. With her? I want to be the person she seems to see when she looks at me. Tapping her hip, I motion for her to get off of me. “Go upstairs and put some warm clothes on, preferably tight. I’ll have a jacket for you when you come down, and if you have a pair of boots, you’ll want those too. Not high-heeled or anything like that.”

“Hiking?” She appears confused as hell, and that’s kinda how I like it. Keeping her on her toes, and hopefully surprising her. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay, Tris. I trust you. Be back in a few minutes.”

Those simple words—I trust you—mean more to me than anything else ever has.

“This isn’t exactly what I thought you had in mind,” she mumbles as we stand in the garage, me helping her put on a helmet, her wide eyes on the Ducati in front of her. The fear is apparent, but if I know her, there’s also a tinge of excitement. I always get it. Doing something I’m not supposed to be doing. There’s a bit of arousal in it. It’s a feeling I’ve craved for too long in my life.

“You’ll love it, and I promise not to go too fast.” Which I kind of know is a lie. This thing is basically a Ferrari on two wheels. It’s tricked out, like everything else I have, all matte-black and badass looking. No one knows this is my bike, Ican ride it in complete anonymity, and that’s the thing I love most about it.

Handing her a jacket, I instruct her on how to fasten it, and then give her gloves. “Why does this feel so structured?” she asks as she tries to move in the jacket.

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