Royal Hearts (Love At The Lake #2)

Chapter 33

Thirty-Three

WINTER

T his gym has seen me in some rough moments. All those years, pounding away at weights and the treadmill, sweat pouring off me in an effort to hold off tears. And now, here I am, on my knees in this room in front of the one thing I’ve always needed.

Someone willing to stay. To fight my battles with me.

“You’d do that?” My hands glide up her smooth legs under her dress, her skin so soft I shiver.

“If you mean, secretly be with you while you date other women, and stay with you after you pick a wife, then, against my better judgment and the fact it sounds insane outside of context, yes.”

“We’ll have a plan.” I lean in and inhale her. “Finish the show, then after the dust settles, we can tell everyone. It’s you I want, Cat. You must know that.” My forehead dips and I press against her stomach, rolling my head from side to side and gripping her hips in my hands. It’s like I’m praying, and maybe I am.

“I want you back,” she says simply, running her fingers through my hair.

“We’re together, you and me.” I have to say it out loud to believe it. “After the show, it will be you and me. Whatever that looks like. Cat, I’ll come to you, anywhere you are. I’ll support you, in whatever you want to accomplish. I’m free of the Crown, I can be that for you.”

She pulls my chin up so I look into her eyes from the floor of my gym, a place I’ve always found comfort. “Okay.”

Slowly, I nod, and untie her right boot, pulling it gently from her foot along with a thick sock that I realize is mine.

She’s going to trust me, and that’s more valuable than any jewel in this castle.

My eyes meet hers and she sniffs. “I like your socks, they’re so soft.”

As I untie her left boot, I chuckle to myself. “I’ll shower you in cashmere socks, Bloom.” I need to be inside her, make love to her, fuck her good and hard until she knows she’s mine and she’s safe with me.

Quickly I stand, rucking her dress up around her thighs, and grasping the backs of her legs so she can wrap them around me. “Now you’ve got me where you want me, what are you going to do with me?” she taunts, draping her arms around my neck, letting me hold her but still having the higher ground.

Silently I walk to my weight bench, I’ll never look at this room the same again after tonight. Then again, I’m moving in a few days, but I banish that thought. I’ll deal with that later.

Laying her gently down on the bench, I pull her hands up above her head. “Hold on to the bar.”

“Okay.”

“Who knew you’d be so easy to boss around,” I smirk, dragging a fingertip down the bridge of her nose, over the divot in her lip, down her neck and all the way down her stomach as I come to the end of the bench, pressing her knees apart with mine to make room. She’s laid out in front of me like a present. I’ve never cared much for presents, myself. I prefer giving them. But this one I very much want to unwrap.

“Why would I fight you when you’re giving me what I want,” she laughs, then sucks in a breath when I drop to the floor again, pushing her dress up to her waist this time, shouldering myself between her thighs to make room for what I want.

My hands wrap around her hips and I lick my lips. “You’re so beautiful, like a rare thing I can’t get enough of.” My palm lays flat across her stomach as my other hand brushes across her black silk panties. I’ve noticed she’s got a thing for French silk, and I’ll shower her in that, too. She drops her hands, but I growl, “Put them back.” And she does.

“Atta girl.” I praise her for following my directions, which is hard for her when she’s usually the one in charge, but I think she likes it. The flip of power, back and forth, back and forth. It’s always been like this between us.

“Winter,” she squirms on the bench, needy and drenched already. I can feel how wet she is through the silk. “I need you to do something.”

“But making you wait is a pleasure I never thought I’d enjoy quite so much.” So, so demanding, my girl.

It is fun to make her wait, to make her want, and to listen to her beg even if her begging sounds more like an order. Knowing it’s me she wants makes me glow on the inside. Her needing me, her craving me when she knows me better than anyone, is like a soft bandage on an old wound.

Still, it’s torture for me, too. My dick is painfully hard.

Pulling her panties to the side, I slowly slide two fingers inside her. She’s so ready for me and she gasps, her hips bucking off the bench, trying to meet my hand, trying to get deeper and find the release she knows is coming. “You’re very responsive,” I whisper, rising to my knees.

I drag my mouth up the inside of one thigh, delighting in the moans I’m rewarded with, and blow a long, slow breath over her core while I work her with my fingers.

I add another. “Winter, now,” she demands.

Toying with her is fun, but I’m willing to comply. My mouth seals over her clit as she screams, her voice echoing off the gym’s mirrored walls.

“Turn your head and look at us,” I command. I can’t always let her be in control. We are give and take, she and I.

She follows my direction, and we make eye contact in the mirror, soft light around us. We eat up our reflection, her laid out on the bench, covered in black with her hands gripping the bar of my bench press, the rest of her naked with my face and fingers between her legs.

The image is erotic as fuck and almost makes me spill in my pants. My dick is begging for my hand, or better, to push inside her. Almost there. I grit my teeth and hold on.

She gasps, “I’m going to?—”

“Let go, sod bloomst .”

“Almost, almost— what does that mean?” Even on the edge of orgasm, she’s demanding and I can’t help letting a breathy laugh slip from my lips while working her and working myself up even further.

“It means,” I grit, barely getting the words out, “my little flower.”

“Oh, oh, yes ,” she says, falling apart all over my hand. Whether it’s my fingers inside her, my mouth, my words, or all of it combined, my own fucking heart melts at the way she comes undone for me. I let go of the silk and give in, palming myself through my pants. It hurts how much I want her. “Get up here,” she says with a shaky voice.

Dragging my tongue up her thigh as I go, noticing she’s got faint bruising from the last time I was here, I sit on the bench and wedge my legs under hers, pulling her to straddle my lap.

“You’re bruised.”

“I don’t care, I like every way you mark me.” She turns her head and takes in our new position in the mirror. “Do you have anything? I’ve tested recently, and I haven’t been with anyone since . . . I work too much and I?—”

“Shh.” I put a finger to her lips. “I’m good, but are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m on the pill, and I’m exceptionally strict about it.”

“I have no doubts, but, I can have you bare?” I ask in wonder, the thought of feeling her with nothing between us pushing me almost to the brink, but I have to hold on. This is a first for me. I was always taught to use protection, not to trust my future to someone else’s promise. But I trust her. And I think she trusts me.

“Yes,” she breathes again, another one-word answer, but the astonishment comes through. Well, that makes fucking two of us, Bloom.

“Cat,” I take a breath, watching her face. “I’ve never been bare with anyone.”

Her hands scramble at my waist, making quick work of my button and zipper, and then she takes me in hand.

“I’ve never needed anyone like this, Winter,” she whines, working her hand up and down my shaft like she’s desperate for me. “I can’t wait, I want you to be mine and I . . .”

“Yes, please ,” I hear myself plead, if she thinks I’ve got any ability to hold back now, she’s got no clue what’s going on inside me. I am seconds from coming, but I will satisfy her before I allow myself a lick of pleasure. “Look at you,” I turn my head and hers follows. “I’ll never forget this moment, with you. You’re more than I’ve allowed myself to wish for.” This is a damn good way to say goodbye to Vikingstrong.

Deep breaths. Clear my thoughts. I want to last for her. I want it to be good.

In the mirror, I watch as she pushes up. Her shins brace on my thighs while she lines up the glistening head of my dick, shining with precum, with her entrance. Now I’m the one who can’t wait, who can’t stand any hesitation, “If you’re sure,” I rasp, “please put me out of my fucking misery . ”

She does, sliding down my shaft, inch by inch. Oh. So. Slowly, but not because she’s being timid. My girl is not the timid kind, no, it’s because she’s savoring every second she watches in the mirror.

When she’s seated, taking me inside to the hilt, we both drag our gazes back to one another, touching noses and breathing each other’s air.

“Damn, baby.” She’s so tight, I’m filling her up inside as I tentatively tip my hips to go a little deeper.

Slowly and with a whimper, she rises, as if she doesn’t want to lose me. I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and she mirrors the move as we slam together. “You’re so much, you’re so perfect for me,” she gasps.

“Fuuuuuuck.”

“No one’s ever been this deep,” she whines, holding on to my shoulders with both hands now while I grip her hips. Feeling each other, testing each other.

Bare and seated inside her tight core, I almost black out for a second. I’ve never felt anything like it, anything like her. But I force myself to focus, focus on her. Check on her first before I let myself dissolve into pleasure.

“Does it hurt?”

“God, no,” she gasps, dropping her head back and moving a little more fluidly, up and down. “I’m so close already, Win. Again .”

Leaning back slightly, I pump my hips into her, making her bounce. The top of her dress is cutting off my view of her body, so I pull it up quickly with both hands. She raises her arms without question, and I whip it off completely.

Black lace shines in the low light, tight nipples peeking through silk, begging to be touched. I palm both her breasts, groaning, dragging my hands down her ribcage as she rides me, then up her smooth back, relishing the feeling of every notch on her spine. “You are everything. Do you know you have complete power over me? Had it, from the start?”

“Yes,” she gasps.

That makes me laugh. I’m not surprised. My girl knows she holds the reins, and I’m fine with that.

Dropping my mouth to one silk-covered breast, I suck as I buck my hips up harder. She is my favorite thing to suck on, my little flower. My balls tighten and my pulse kicks up a hundred notches. It’s too much with her breast in my mouth. I pull away and see the wet spot spreading into the silk and for some reason, that pushes me even further to the edge. “I’m gonna?—”

“Me, too.”

I give one final hard push with my hips, gripping her waist with both hands and holding her down, trying my best to reach as deep as I can and hit the spot I know she needs me to find.

And my effort is rewarded, because as I explode into her, feeling myself gush hard and wondering if I’ll ever stop, she screams my name.

I whip a hand over her mouth when there’s a knock at the door.

Her eyes meet mine, wide and excited. Both of us shuddering through our orgasm with sweaty brows as she pants against my hand and wiggles in my lap. I’m still inside her and the motion makes me groan, wringing the last of my orgasm from my spent body. No amount of weight lifting or running has ever wiped me out like this.

When I remove my hand and the knock comes again, she whisper-giggles, answering in a falsetto, “Who is it?”

A laugh tumbles freely from my chest, I love seeing her undone and let loose like this .

“Ocupado,” I say in an equally high tone, or as high as I can make my voice go.

There’s no way we’re fooling whoever is on the other side of the door, but it’s fun.

“Marco called. It’s about the show!” Robbie’s voice booms through the thick door.

“Oh shit!” She jumps from my lap and scrambles for her dress, pulling it quickly over her head and pushing it down over her hips. Then she hops around shoving her boots on and folding her socks into a little ball.

“Hide in the corner. Let me take care of it.”

“You’re hiding me?” she asks incredulously.

“Never, shut up,” I fling back at her, letting her know I’m insulted by her even suggesting I’d like to do anything but shout about her from the rooftops. “ What if he has a camera? Unless you’re ready to take a spot as a cast member, which I would more than welcome?—”

“No, you’re right.” She waves me on to open the door.

“I don’t have all night,” Robbie shouts again. “This’ll only take a minute, and then you can get back to?—”

I fling open the door, my pants on but unbuttoned, fly gaping. Nothing is going to slow me down for round two after I close this door.

“This better be good, or I’m gonna shave your mohawk when you inevitably pass out on my couch tonight.” I’m kidding, of course. I wouldn’t do that. And judging by Robbie’s clear eyes, and the arm he’s got draped over Liam’s shoulder, I don’t think either of them are drinking heavily tonight. I think they had, and judging by the goofy-happy look on Liam’s face still have , better things to do.

Good for them. Glad we’re all enjoying ourselves. I sure as hell am.

“Marco called,” Robbie says again .

Cat appears at my side, unable to stay out of it but there’s no camera to catch us, anyway. “But you don’t have a phone?”

Glancing down at her I give her a look because, couldn’t she relinquish control for two seconds?

Robbie and Liam are unfazed by her appearance. I think they’ve been watching us just as much as we’ve been watching them.

“Marco asked Darcy to call me,” Liam says. “And pass the message on to Robbie, so he could get the message to the crew and you two.”

Cat and I look at each other and back at the two lovebirds at the door. This is either going to be epically bad news or?—

“Spit it out,” Cat says.

“The finale has been postponed. We get not one,” he holds up a finger with a shit-eating grin, “but two weeks off for Christmas break. All expenses paid, motherfucker!”

We look at each other again, “But why would they do that?” she asks.

Robbie goes on, “Fans are rabid, and they’ve decided to milk it. The finale will air January first.”

“New Year’s Day,” Cat says, and I can hear the wheels turning in her head.

This means the show will be more drawn out, which means we have to keep this ruse going even longer. Not great . But . . . “We get a two-week holiday off? Away from all the cameras and bullshit?” I ask again, already thinking of all the things I want to do with Cat between now and then.

“That’s right. Merry Christmas, you filthy animals,” Robbie says, then pulls Liam away while both of them snicker about us.

Cat looks up at me, a fresh hickey blooming on her neck, I really need to learn to suck softer. She wraps her arms around me and I turn into her, my body responding to hers naturally. “I think,” she whispers, “this is good news.”

“This is great news, Bloom. For the next two weeks, you’re mine.”