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I crawl over to his lap and climb on, straddling his legs. His heated gaze is doing wonderful things to my insides.
“Like…giving you full permission to go absolutely wild on me like I know you want to,” I say, accenting my words with a licking kiss to the base of his throat. “Like letting you toss me around the bed like a rag doll until you’re completely worn out. Like squeezing you so hard, I’ll make you whimper.”
Through gritted teeth, he rumbles, “Take it out, then. Take it in your hand and decide if that’s what you want.”
With pleasure.
I lick my lips and get to work.
I slide back on his legs while he gets to work unzipping his trousers. I lean in and, holding my breath, reach my hand inside his underwear, taking the hard length in my hand.
For his part, Sigurd shoves his trousers and underwear down around his hips in one go, revealing the sight of my hand wrapped around a cock so big that my fingers don’t meet. Not even close.
“Oh…wow,” I breathe, salivating.
I hold it in my hand and examine the length of it, from its hairy root to its throbbing shaft to its deep pink crown, glistening with precum. I trace the dark veins with my thumb tip. The prince sucks in a sharp breath and says something incomprehensible.
“Hm?” I ask, fluttering my lashes up to meet his gaze.
“Your…fingers…too soft…I can’t…”
“Oh, you want my mouth instead?”
His only response is to growl and loll his head back, his chest heaving in effort.
I slide off his lap and kneel on the floor before the bed, eye level with his cock. I pull back the foreskin to reveal the glistening, angry red tip, the sight of which sets off a spasm of every muscle between my legs.
Without hesitation, I lean forward and take the tip into my mouth, licking off the salty droplets.
I don’t get any further than this bare taste before he pulls me back, his hands fisting my hair.
His throat is dry, his face tight as he levels me with his gaze. “Stop messing around with your soft mouth. I need to fuck. Can you take it into your hole or not?”
I bite my lip and give him my bravest, most daring look. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Then get up here,” he rasps, fisting his cock with his free hand.
I’m trembling by the time he’s completely kicked off his trousers and underwear, allowing complete skin-on-skin contact as I climb on top of him. I’d like to rend his white tee shirt in half, but he opts for letting me watch him tug it off.
With one hand guiding him in, my pussy lips wet the tip, gauging my body’s reaction. My hand on his shoulder squeezes his thick trap muscle, tense with anticipation.
I guide it slowly to my entrance and take some.
“More?” I ask.
“Careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Honestly, I do not care if he’s too big.
I take more of him in, lowering down, letting my muscles adapt to the girth.
Something lets go in him. His shoulders relax under my touch, and he locks his gaze onto mine. His breath shudders.
“Fuck. Baby, you’re so tight. You feel too good. I’m not going to last, Stasi.”
I thread my fingers through his silky locks. “You let go whenever you need to let go.”
This somehow gets him out of his head and back into the moment.
