He fidgeted in his chair, shifting uncomfortably as his mouth muttered words she couldn’t quite make out. His arms moved forward and backwards under the table as she shook his head. She wasn’t quite sure if it was him, but either way, the poor guy looked as if he was on the razor thin line of having a panic attack.
“Hi?” she said, apprehensively. She couldn’t help but want to comfort him, place a hand on his broad shoulder and ask if everything was okay, but then his terrified eyes met hers.
It was him.
She’d have known those eyes anywhere. Someone may have said they were the same color as Bruno’s, but they weren’t. No, his eyes were calming, deep and more gorgeous than the Balearic Sea behind him. Photography was what she did for a living, it was her passion, but dear God, she’d never seen a color as beautiful as the one in his eyes. She could have taken a thousand pictures of him with burst mode and not a single one would be bad.
First Daughter Charlotte Lennox-Ross is the closest thing to a princess this side of the Atlantic. She’s gorgeous, she’s brilliant, and she’s been cleaning up her Dad’s mistakes since she was twelve. So when a rogue tweet from the POTUS sends the UK Pork Industry into freefall, Charlotte is the one on damage control.
The Prince of Wales is the one who’s been roped in to fixing it with her, and he's no happier about it than she is. Because, unfortunately, there's a lot more than diplomatic history between them.
Charlotte needs to pacify an entire country, save her father from himself, and publicly tolerate the man who broke her heart. If she can't do all of that?
Well, she's red, white, and royally screwed.
Read now on Ao3
Tom Royal AU but also Second Chance Lovers, ETL, Exes-to-Lovers, etc.
okay hear me out: smut with tom. it’s on the villa near the end and you two go out to the daybeds and we’ll y’know. he’s super nervous and she just kindove has to comfort him the whole time and he keeps asking her if everything he does is okay bc he just wants to please her
EVERYTHING ELSE IS ENTHUSIASM
Tom / MC - 2100+ words - @mrsbsmooth NSFW
“Well… enthusiasm at least...” He swallowed, hard. “That… won't be a problem.”
“Are you sure about this?” Felicity asked, as she watched his hands shaking. Tom nodded, pulling the covers back for her, and she slipped under the blanket beside him.
The daybeds weren’t ideal, but they couldn’t get into the hideaway, she’d already snuck off and tried. Felicity rolled toward him, and he pulled her close. She’d been waiting for weeks, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne already had her pressing herself against him, just about ready to wrap her legs around his waist and fuck him for three days straight.
She pressed her lips to his, hungrily, with only about ten percent of the desperation that she felt between her legs, but there was something still so hesitant in his kiss.
She stopped to take a deep breath.
“Babe,” she whispered. “If you don’t want to, we can wait. I know you said you didn’t want to do bits on TV. We don’t have to change that now.”
“I…” Tom sighed, pulling her closer. “Can I be completely honest with you?”
Felicity nodded. “Always.”
Tom looked into her eyes, his own wide and innocent, as he chewed the inside of his cheek.
“My hesitation wasn’t entirely to do with the fact we’re on TV. It’s… I’m not…,” he cleared his throat, lowering his voice to a little above a whisper. “I'm not terribly experienced. Relationships are new to me. and I'm not... I just worry that...”
He dropped his head to her chest, almost as if he was hiding his face, and Felicity couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
Tom tensed, and she stroked his hair, tilting his head back so he’d look at her.
“Babe…. Duh.”
His face fell in confusion, and she shook her head in disbelief. “I figured that out about five seconds after meeting you. And it doesn’t bother me.”
Tom looked up at her with those big, innocent eyes, as if she’d just said something so magical he couldn’t quite believe it.
“It doesn’t?”
“No!” she smiled. “Not at all! If you’re willing to let me lead, I'm happy to take control.”
“Even though I might be awkward?”
She kissed him gently, calming herself, and nodded.
“Even if you’re awkward. The thing that matters above everything else is enthusiasm.”
“Do you think?” his eyes widened.
“Mmhmm, think about it. If you’re talking to someone, and the conversation’s technically quite good, but the girl clearly doesn’t want to be there, that’s a big turnoff, right?”
"Of course." Tom nodded.
“But if a girl’s talking to you, and while the topic isn’t that interesting, she’s nodding, and smiling, and looking at you like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be…?”
Tom nodded contemplatively, hesitating for a moment before speaking.
“Well… enthusiasm at least...” He swallowed, hard. “That… won't be a problem.”
Tom’s cheeks flushed pink at his own boldness, and he looked away. God, she loved having this effect on him. She’d been with her fair share of men before, most of them quite experienced, but none had made her feel so…
Desired.
Tom looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was with him. Stars in his eyes, lips parting in awe, completely dumbstruck whenever she entered a room. He fumbled his words, and whatever was in his hands. He walked into doors when she kissed his cheek. Broke into a sweat when she slipped her hand into his.
She couldn’t help but be a little worried that seeing her naked might knock him out cold.
She threaded her hands into that beautiful, soft hair, stroking it as she pulled him in closer to her. He obliged, trailing his lips along her cheek, before delicately brushing them against hers. They were soft, just like his skin, that flawless close shave that he’d somehow managed to perfect. And his cologne, God. For a man so apparently inexperienced in sex, he smelled like a connoisseur. Refined, but fresh, like the first sip of whisky on ice. An explosion of cedar and amber wood. Something richer, something more elegant, something so sensual that almost made her forget it was Tom.
It was one of the first things she’d noticed about him. That first moment where he’d gone slack-jawed, and she’d leaned in to greet him with a polite hug. She’d barely wanted to let go, his cologne like a drug that she’d never realised she was already addicted to. It had taken everything she had not to whisper into his ear how much she’d loved it. How badly it made her want to never unwrap her arms from around his neck.
And now, here he was.
Under the blanket, his hand slipped under her top, gently brushing her waist like he was asking her permission to go further. It took all her willpower not to giggle at the politeness in it. Felicity reached for the bottom of her t-shirt, pulled it over her head, and handed it to him.
She was still completely covered by the blanket, but in the soft glow of the fairy lights, she watched his eyes fill with desire. He rolled his lips together as if he was already tasting her on them, and kissed her again.
Harder.
She tugged his shirt from him like it was suffocating her, shuddering with anticipation as he lay his bare chest against hers. Parting her legs slightly to wrap them around him, his weight on her intoxicating, she felt his body heat starting to rise. He gathered her up into his arms, pulling her closer, and she almost gasped.
Those arms around her had always made her feel safe, but now, they were like an aphrodisiac. She ran her hands over his biceps, and onto his broad shoulders, savouring every inch of his skin. She buried her face into him, inhaling deeply, scratching her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair.
And he groaned.
His skin erupted into goosebumps under her hands, and he pulled her closer, wrapping her up once more in those arms that had her dizzy from their strength. She could feel how hard he was, his hips pressing firmer and firmer against hers as she wrapped her legs around him. She could almost feel his torment; wanting her body, wanting to take more of her, but afraid that taking what he wanted would push her away.
Well.
It was time to show him that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Felicity rolled him onto his back, pushed him to lie down, and tugged his shorts off. Tom protested out of some kind of shame, but she wasn’t going to be hearing any of that. She settled between his legs, and before he had a chance to say anything else, she took him in her mouth.
In the faded light, as she looked up at him, she could’ve sworn she’d electrocuted him. His hands flew to the wall above him, pressing against it, his lips parted, eyes closed, breath caught in his throat.
It was all she could do not to break into a grin.
He remained frozen like that for a few seconds while she swirled her tongue over his tip, and he seemed to melt underneath her. He exhaled, shuddering, that deep, guttural groan from his throat as he threaded one hand into her hair.
“Oh God,” he whispered, opening his eyes as if he really was seeing heaven; his hand gentle and praising as he stroked his thumb against her cheek. She moaned at the affection, the act so very and perfectly him, and made him jolt again.
She was slow, her movements gentle, taking her time as she teased out what he liked. Even with zero words between them, his reactions to her every movement told her exactly how to please him. He sparked under her touch, or shuddered, or gasped; responding so viscerally that she figured him out in no time.
God, she loved him.
He was so easy to read, every twitch of her tongue like a zap through his body; how his abs clenched as she took him deeper, or how his fingers tightened in her hair as she moaned. She found a rhythm in only minutes, no doubt helped by his responsiveness, silently telling her exactly how he wanted it, and she was only too happy to give him everything he was too polite to ask for.
Until he started asking for it.
She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly the first time, but the second time, she was sure. It was rasped, from the very back of his throat; a voice she’d never heard, nor expected. It was desperate. It was needy. It was…
“Deeper,” he whispered.
A rush of adrenaline hit her like a whirlwind, the thrill of hearing him ask for it driving her just a little bit wild. She adjusted her position, holding his thighs, taking more and more of him into her mouth until he was hitting the back of her throat. Tom groaned again, and she practically whimpered in response, almost embarrassed by how much this was turning her on.
But she wasn’t stopping.
Over and over and over, she gave him exactly what he wanted, moaning and letting his tip slip into her throat, making his breath catch each time. She knew he was getting close, but no part of her wanted to show down, even when he began tugging gently at her hair to try and pull her away.
“Darling,” he whispered. “You need to sto–”
She almost growled in response, doing nothing but lifting her pace. The pull at her hair became more insistent, his breaths deeper, his words more and more jilted. But still, she didn’t release him.
He felt so good on her tongue, every ridge of him, the taste of him, the way his body contorted and responded to her every move. She wasn’t stopping, she’d already decided. She wanted to taste him fully, to have him lose himself in her mouth, to bring him to the edge and push him over it, watching him while she showed him exactly how badly she wanted to make him feel good.
“Flick–”
His voice was shaking now, his abs clenched; a bead of sweat on his brow as he tried desperately to hold back. But she didn’t stop. She just looked up at him, watching his face contort as she held her pace exactly as it was. She was holding him there, dangling him off the edge, and she’d never felt so powerful. He was panting. Sweating. Struggling to hold on; and she just gave him more. More, and more, and more. He was properly pulling her hair now, his fingers tangled and desperate, as she dug her own into his hips. She used her nails, the slightest bit of pain drawing his attention.
And he looked down.
“Oh fu–”
He lost control, his body contorting and jolting as he finally let go. All she could do was moan as he involuntarily thrust into her mouth, coming down her throat with such force that she was sure it’d been far longer than he’d insinuated. She held her rhythm, keeping the pace through each jerk of his thighs, only slowing once he began gasping for air.
Slowly, she released him, savouring the taste of him in her mouth, as he watched her with a relaxed confidence that she’d never seen before. Wordlessly, she shuffled back up beside him, and he pulled her close to his side, kissing her gently. But before she could smile, or ask him how it was, he rolled her onto her back.
Felicity gasped as he began kissing down her body, over her breasts, and onto her stomach, slipping his hands into the waistband of her shorts as he began tugging them down. She couldn’t help but giggle at the self-assurance, but when he looked up at her, there was very little hesitation in his eyes.
“Babe,” she smiled. “You don’t have to return the favour straight away, we can rest for a second if you w–”
A knowing smirk tugged at his full lips, and it quietened her almost instantly. She’d never been silenced by a look before, but that look had her lost for words.
“I’d very much like to do it right away,” he cooed, trailing his lips lower and lower, letting his tongue dart out and wet her skin as he closed in on where she was practically shaking to have him.
“In fact,” he whispered, kissing her one final time, before parting her with his fingers. “I’m quite enthusiastic about it.”
And just like he had done, the moment Tom’s head disappeared between her legs, her body jolted; her hands flying to the wall above her head as she gasped. When he'd said he wasn't experienced, she thought he'd meant...
Her thoughts were interrupted by those massive arms wrapping around her thighs, opening her wider as he dragged her down the daybed toward him. She grabbed his hair instead, her eyes rolling back as whatever he was doing had her gasping for air.
