Page 100 of Tall, Royal Hater
I snapped my hips up and drove into her from underneath.
She sobbed into my mouth before tearing away. “Wa—it! I’m sensitive. I’m—”
But I kept pounding up into her, holding her close by the nape and one hand squeezing her arse cheek. “I don’t fucking care,” I growled andthrust, thrust, thrust. “You’re going to shut up andfucking take it. You’re gonna take Daddy’s dick until your greedy pussy hurts.”
“Shehryar!” Her face contorted in pain and pleasure. “Sher—” She choked on my name, clinging on to me desperately, one hand pulling at the top of my hair while the other cupped my damp cheek.
At some point, I urged her face against the side of mine, so she was sobbing and whimpering into my ear, and I was groaning and panting into hers. My senses were attacked from all directions, driving my beast wild with feverish pleasure. I fought hard against the snaking sensation curling around my dick and limbs, ready to shoot out at any second. But when Mariyah started grinding her clit against me again, I knew relief was coming soon.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted into my ear through her teeth. “Shehryar.”
A sharp arrow of bliss pierced my lungs. Fuck, I wasn’t going to last if she said my name again.
Only thinking about getting her to her climax, I slipped my hand on her arse down into the crevice. Her wetness was spread all over, allowing my middle finger to easily slip testing circles against the tight puckered bud of her arse. A growl was ripped from my throat as her pussy clenched around me.
“Fuck,” I grated, slamming into her. “Do you like that?” My voice was hoarse and quick as I rubbed my finger with more pressure. “Do you like having your arse played with? Is it gonna make you come if I slip my finger in?”
Her cry and crushing grip on my dick gave me my answer, and I pressed the blunt tip against the ring of muscle. There was a moment of resistance, but with her so aroused already, my finger slid in with ease about halfway. I gave it a slight rock, and that was all it took.
Screaming my name, Mariyah came for a third time, and my mind and lungs ceased to function. I couldn’t hold back as she wrung my dick. I roared into her neck, coming long and hard with slight jerks of my pelvis. White slashed across my vision, and my thighs locked to the point they burned.
I gasped for air like someone had been strangling me and clung on to Mariyah as we both went weak. She collapsed on top of me, panting heavily, unable to lift herself up. But I didn’t mind. She wasn’t very heavy, and the hot, sweaty weight of her on top of me helped guide my thrumming mind, body, and soul back down to float just above the ground.
Slipping my finger out of her, I rubbed my other hand from her nape down her back in a heavy, soothing stroke. She shuddered sweetly, and I turned my head, planting a kiss to her messy hair.
No wave of regret or “I shouldn’t have fucked Esmeralda’s best friend—again” thoughts came in the minute that followed. Everything felt quiet and peaceful and a little shaky, but light and easy.
It felt good. Really good.
But eventually, concern for Mariyah filtered into my brain, and I needed to do something about it.
This time, I was going to give her the aftercare I wanted and needed to.
With a grunt, I rolled us onto our sides. I slipped my dick out and edged back to look right into her sated eyes. “I’m going to go run a bath,” I said hoarsely. “And then I’m going to carry you to the bathroom, so I can wash you up.” I hardened my stare. “This is your room, so you can’t run this time, but I swear on Esmeralda’s life, if you even move, Mariyah, I will spank your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit down without crying. Is that clear?”
She gave me a pointed look but didn’t say anything, and just that once, I allowed it.
“Don’t move,” I warned her one last time before getting up.
Chapter 24
Mariyah
Being carried princess-style by Shehryar was a weird experience.
I argued and grumbled against the idea as much as I could in my multiple-orgasm-induced state of exhaustion. But when he rolled me over and landed a vicious smack on my arse, I quickly scooted away from the very real threat of having bruises on my backside for the next couple of days and promised I’d let him carry me and wash me without a fight if he didn’t spank me.
He agreed and I…
Awkward wasn’t the right word to describe the feeling of being in his arms. It was annoying that he picked me up so easily. But it wasn’t. I didn’t like that I was pressed against him, naked. But at the same time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was weird having his face so close to mine without any arguing or fucking involved. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his side profile.
He had stupidly thick lashes, and I’d never noticed before, but the ring of dark green had a wispy, smoky blend to it as it met the rest of his watercolour irises. It was kind of…beautiful.
He sat me on the toilet first and basically demanded that I pee, while he squirted some soap into the bathtub. Then he helped me into the lightly bubbled water and massaged body wash into my shoulders and neck, and down both my arms. He didn’t mock me, berate me, or patronise me, though my defences kept jumping to attention, expecting him to every time he made a subtle movement. Eventually, I found myself relaxing under his touch. I even moaned once or twice.
But then he climbed into the spacious, white bathtub on the opposite side and said, “Move your legs into the middle,” while he stretched his own, keeping them slightly bent at the knees on either side of the tub. The water sloshed against my sternum at his intrusion.
I watched him with my lips curled in disgust and confusion as he ran one damp hand over his thick hair, pushing back the longer locks. He splashed and massaged some water across his chest and shoulders, marred with faint pink scratches that disappeared into the hair and tattoo on his pecs. Then, stretching his arms across the rim of the tub with a lazy arrogance that made my sore lady parts tingle with awareness, he finally looked up.
