Royal Line Carrie Ryan (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

chin lifted, and she met my gaze levelly. “Who says I’m going to let you out of the bedroom?”

With a chuckle, I slid my hand to cup her cheek and then slid it into her hair. This was the first time I was kissing her because I really wanted to, not because my control snapped. This was the first time I was kissing her when she expected it. And instead of a crushing snap of control, I felt the warm easy surge of want and need. Something inside my body reached for hers. And the only thought in my mind was mine.

Chapter 11 London

A princess never falls.

I couldn’t not touch him.

His tongue stoked mine and sent shivers through me. This kiss was different than the others. It was slow and deliberate and not at all rushed. It was all seduction.

At the top of the stairs, he pulled back, his heavy-lidded gaze on me. “Are you sure, London?”

I knew what my answer should be. I knew I should stop this, knew I should pull back. But the truth was I didn’t want to. I’d spent so much of my life being somebody’s appendage. The sister, the princess, never having an identity of my own. And I knew it was even bullshit to whine about it, because I loved my life. But I was lonely. Ever since Mom and Dad died, I’d felt like I was on an island by myself. I didn’t feel the same kind of loneliness that Kannon did, but I recognized him as a kindred spirit. It was like I knew him in the dark, our myriad of pain and disappointment linking us in some way, letting us know that even if there was darkness, we weren’t entirely alone.

That link, now, was impossible to ignore. For the first time in a long time, I felt seen. I felt alive.

I wasn’t sure about much, but I knew I wanted him. That I wanted this. I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Thank fuck.”

His lips slanted over mine once again as he paused in front of one of the doors then kicked it open. He carried me easily to the bed and deposited me in the center. He only eased back long enough to drag his T-shirt over his head before crawling back up my body.

His lips devoured mine as his tongue teased, tasted, and tempted me. It was like he knew just how to coax the right response. Like he was completely attuned to me, made for me, making me feel a hundred percent my real self.

Our kisses were a discovery at first, a slow, tentative awakening. The hey, how are you doing, nice to meet you, what do you like kind of thing. If I turn this way, will you respond? If I kiss you here, will you like it? It was the first date of kisses.

There were levels, after all. There was the familiar oxytocin check-in. A given to couples with long-lasting relationships, ones borne out of familiarity and mutual love and respect. But these kisses were always the most thrilling. The first flush of discovery.

But the teasing quickly turned more intense. When he pulled back, his hand fisted my hair again as he dropped his forehead to mine. “What is it about you? I can’t stay away.”

My voice was shaky when I responded. “No one is asking you to stay away.”

When his lips crushed on mine again, gone were the tentative kisses. This kiss, the stroke of his tongue into my mouth, this was all possession, all know-how, all determination to brand and mold and possess.

As he kissed me, he angled my body backwards over the bed, knowing how to make my body hum as if he’d spent a lifetime making me beg.

His big body covered mine easily. From somewhere in the distance, somebody was making a mewling sound. A desperate sound of need, of longing, of begging without using the actual words.

That someone is you. Are you ready to beg?

Electricity sparked through my body, igniting the flame that lit me on fire, leaving only one way to extinguish it, only one answer to the question of what I wanted most in this world.

“Need to feel you,” he rasped before burying his face in my neck and breathing deep. That slow, deep inhale made me shudder.

I scratched my nails through his hair, and a wave of lust drowned out any remaining rational thought. When he cupped my breast, he groaned as he palmed me completely.

With every touch, electricity arced between us. I felt like I was being incinerated from the inside out.

Rolling away from me and shifting off the bed, Kannon yanked off his jeans, and my eyes locked on his thick erection. Holy hell. Would that thing fit?

He smirked as he caught me staring, the devil taking full control of his smile. “You like what you see, princess?”

I didn’t mean to grin back. I meant to have some self-respect, to play a little coy. But screw that. I did like what I saw. And I wanted to touch him. I wanted to taste him.

Kannon climbed back over me and placed openmouthed kisses along my jawline, the column of my throat, my collarbone. When he dipped to kiss my breasts again, a moan ripped out of my throat just before his lips covered the tip. With his other hand, he teased my free nipple until I whimpered. He continued the path of hot kisses down my stomach, past my belly button.

He wasn’t done though. When he settled between my thighs and gave a long, leisurely lick between my folds. I dug my hands into his hair, lifting my hips to meet his questing tongue. But he didn’t stop the expert strokes of his tongue except to occasionally nip and suck on my flesh.

I’d never come from someone going down on me. Hell, orgasms were often hit or miss with a partner. It was like the stars had to align perfectly.

But Kannon… He knew every dip to