The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)

  There’s a long pause, and I open my eyes, feeling drowsy. Josh straddles my collapsed body and grabs my hair, pulling my head off the bed. “Who is your king, Your Highness?”

  “You are,” I breathe, no hesitation or thought, staring at him looming over me, exuding power.

  “Damn straight I am.” Bending, he kisses me hard, a kiss of ownership and possession, one that cements his claim. “Up.” He lifts me, turns me, and pushes me to my back, dropping the belt and shoving my thighs wide. “Soaking,” he mumbles, full of appraisal as his head lowers. I hold my breath, bracing myself for the heat of his mouth over my throbbing, wet flesh. The stroke of his tongue is firm and long, dipping inside of me before lashing straight up the center.

  I cry out, tossing my head back, my body locking up, as if tensing can protect me from the blessed torture of his mouth. His long lick doesn’t stop when he reaches the strip of hair that frames me, and instead continues up to my belly button, Josh crawling up the bed, following his tongue as it travels on, up between my breasts, to my chest, onto my chin, and then into my mouth. His cock finds where it wants to be, falling into place and slipping inside of me, deep and high with one precise thrust of his hips on a grunt into my mouth.

  The powerful plunge steals my breath, and I don’t care if I never get it back, because this, right now, is perfect. If it were my last moment in this life, it would send me out in a blaze of glory.

  My nails sink into his back, my teeth into his neck, and my legs curl and grip his hips with an unthinkable strength. I feel so overcome by our connection—by our closeness—that tears spring into my eyes. I can’t stop them.

  “I feel the same,” he whispers, stilling, buried as deep as could be inside of me. “I feel it. All of it.” Breaking away, his flesh dragging through my bite, he gazes at me, and I am certain through my clouded vision that he has water in his eyes, too. “You’ve fallen in love with me.”

  A ragged sob ignores my fight to hold it back, wanting to be out there, heard. I pointlessly close my eyes and sink my face into the crook of his neck, but I’m not blessed with my sanctuary for long. He withdraws and plunges forward again, nuzzling me from my hiding place as he hits me accurately, pushing me up the bed a little.

  “Look at me.” His demand is clipped and rough, his body stilling again. I let my eyes peel open and face my weakness. He is my weakness. My American boy. Yet he is a formidable strength in me, too. His gaze, twinkling and alive, holds me in place. “You love me.” He states it as the fact it is, and I nod, clamping down on my bottom lip. My acknowledgment makes him smile as his cock throbs against my internal walls and his eyes, the very essence of him, take on a brilliant sparkle. “Say it.”

  I don’t have to think twice. “I love you,” I whisper, laying myself bare before him.

  “And I love you.” His reply is quiet, yet the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. “I think I loved you the moment you yielded to my command to kneel.”

  “Because I did what I was told?” I question, my heart bursting with joy.

  His big shoulders hitch a little from a half shrug, his gaze leaving mine, just for a second. “Many women do what I tell them.” He dips and circles his nose with mine. “But only you made the whole world disappear when you did.” His mouth presses to mine. “Only you made me insane with want. Your face, your body. Only you have monopolized every thought in my head. Your wickedly smart mouth. Your fiery temper. The fact you’ve let me dismantle your high, protective walls.” He laps his tongue through my mouth slowly and softly. “Only you have made me wish more than anything that I could be a real fuckin’ prince so I could serve you and support you. So I could be yours.”

  I smile against his lips, not feeling the need to say anything, and roll my hips up, reminding us both we’re tied so closely. He groans and follows my lead, setting the motion, kissing me into an oblivion of Josh. Two people loving each other, feeling the exact same way about each other, should make the path to their happily ever after easy and blissful. But we are not two ordinary people. We have a fight ahead, and our battle plan needs to be set. But for now, we can love each other without the complication and pain of that path tarnishing it.

  He really is my king. He rules me. God, I’m so in love with him.

  I skate my touch up and down his back, my fingertips delicately tracing each side as he moves inside me. His exploring tongue swirls deeply, not a tiny piece of my mouth not found. My back bows slowly, my pleasure gaining momentum, charging forward unstoppably. “Oh God, Josh.”

  “My name on your lips is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” His hips buck, hitting hard, and I whimper through a moan. “When you come, I want you to say my name over and over.” His pace quickens, like he wants me to get to that point sooner rather than later, and I am fine with that.

  I writher and groan, my mind spacing out in a pleasure-induced fog. All my senses heighten, every move is more intense, every feeling more powerful. “I’m coming,” I choke, throwing my hands to the headboard and clinging on, as if it can ground me, as if it will save me from being catapulted off the bed from the power of the climax about to attack me. Tingles engulf me, heat surges through me. “Josh.”

  “Again,” he says calmly, pumping on, banging my orgasm out of me. “Say it again.”

  “Josh!” I scream this time, his name going on and on until my lungs run dry of air. I gasp for breath, my hold of the wood behind me so tight I lose all feeling in my arms.

  “Again.” He thunders on, moving onto his fists to get more leverage. “Again, Adeline.”

  “Josh!” The power of my release is almost too much to bear, every nerve ending sparking, cracking, and exploding. “I can’t take anymore.” It’s like he has full control of my orgasm, dictating how long it goes on, making sure I’ll not move for a week once he is done with me.

  “You can. And you’ll be taking a lot more than this, I promise you.” His voice is as distorted as his face. “Oh . . . my . . . fuck.” His body locks, his chin dropping to his chest, and then he starts shaking like I would never believe if I weren’t lying beneath him, absorbing every vibration with my own. I release one hand from the headboard and reach for his throat, splaying my palm there, feeling every swallow and struggle for air, his skin soaked. “I love you.” He strains the words through his exhaustion, and I smile through mine. We are so utterly drunk on pleasure, and it is unquestionably the best feeling in the world. “God, woman, it’s never been like this. Never so . . . everything.” His face falls into my neck, his breath hot on my skin.

  I can feel all the emotion and feelings in his words. Because I feel the same. I’ve never been an insecure lover, and Josh hasn’t really changed that. But now I’m giving him my all, I can’t help appreciating his words all the more. I reach for his head and play with his hair. “Thank you for coming to find me tonight.”

  Lifting from my neck, he smiles, and it is one of my favorite Josh smiles. Genuine. Heartfelt. But it drops a little, and he spends a few quiet moments thinking. “I love you so much, Adeline. I don’t know what to do with it all.”

  I feel myself fold a little, hating his uncertainty, but before I can voice my thoughts, he goes on, blinking his drowsy eyes open. “I just want to take you away from this madness, baby. I want to kiss the ground you walk on for the rest of my life. I want to look at you every day and know that you are mine. Kiss you. Make love to you. Fuck you. Spank you.”

  “Bring it on,” I say clearly, ready for everything he has to throw at me. Everything. Belts and all.

  On a shake of his beautiful head, he smiles a shy smile and drops to my chest, crowding me completely. But I don’t feel suffocated. I don’t feel his weight. I feel the freest and lightest I ever have in my entire life. “We need to talk,” he breathes.

  And just like that, my moment is stained. “Do we have to? Can’t you just put me on your private jet and fly me out of the country? Hide me in your mansion in Beverly Hills and worship me day and night? Because that w
ill suit me, just so you know.”

  He chuckles. “I would love nothing more. But I also don’t want to be on the World’s Most Wanted list for kidnapping the Princess of England.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Because you won’t be missed?” He laughs and lands me with a chaste kiss, rolling over to his back beside me. I give him roughly two seconds’ peace before I crawl up his body, placing myself on his chest. My boobs squish into his pecs and his arms circle my shoulders. “I shouldn’t be missed,” I say matter-of-factly. “I serve no purpose to this country.”

  “You are a national treasure, Adeline.” Josh smiles, pushing some hair from my face.

  “It isn’t fair. I want you. You want me. It should be that simple.”

  “Except it’s not.”

  My lips twist in displeasure. “So what are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” He looks defeated all of a sudden. It doesn’t suit him—my cocky Hollywood troublemaker.

  “You’ve changed your tune. He who isn’t one for playing by the rules,” I tease.

  “Yeah, well, I feel like I have a lot more to lose now.” He moves quickly, flipping me to my back and swathing me, arms pinned on the pillow above my head. “My tactics have changed.”

  “How so?”

  “I plan on wooing your father when he takes me shooting tomorrow.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh, because that is, quite possibly—no, definitely—the funniest thing I have ever heard. “Josh, be real. The King might seem all jolly and friendly, but the moment he gets a whiff of your intentions, I would advise you to be far, far away from his shotgun.”

  “He won’t shoot me. And maybe it’s a good thing if he does—in the leg or something. He’ll be locked up. Problem solved.”

  “That’s an amazing idea.” I dazzle him with an excited smile, and quickly let it drop like a rock. “Except the King is the only person in the land immune from prosecution.”

  His eyes widen. “He is?”

  “It’s an ancient law. But my point is, he’ll get away with it.”

  “Okay, smart-ass, what do you suggest?”

  I land a kiss on his lips and push him back, hopping off the bed and heading for the bathroom. “I already told you.” I stop at the door and turn, cocking my eyebrow. “Smuggle me out of the country.”

  On a roll of his eyes, he props himself up on his elbows. “Sensible ideas, please.”

  “It’s more sensible than yours.” I leave Josh with a moody face and head for the toilet. “At least we’ll both still be alive,” I sit down, smiling when I notice that I didn’t even bother to close the door. He’s been a spectator while I have relieved myself before, because that was the natural progression of our relationship, apparently. And now he loves me. And I love him.

  Josh appears in the doorway, his naked body propped against the frame by his shoulder. I don’t get stage fright. I don’t even blush. It’s liberating. “You’re being dramatic,” he tells me. “This is the twenty-first century, for Christ’s sake. You should be able to date who you please.”

  His blatant irritation is endearing. I finish up and wash my hands, observing his sulky form in the mirror. He looks like a petulant child. Sounds like one, too. “Like it or not, I require permission to date. If I ever want to marry, I would need the King’s permission for that, too.” I dry my hands, smiling at his widening eyes.

  “Who said anything about marriage?”

  I give him a tired look. “I was giving you an idea of how complex and silly protocol is when it comes to dating a royal.”

  “It’s ridiculous.”

  “I agree.”

  “So no matter how much your father likes me, it’ll be a no?”

  I wander over and reach up on my tippy-toes to kiss his bristly chin. My move has him relinquishing the support of the doorframe in favor of me. I look at him, my head tilted far back. “Unless you harbor a secret connection to some blue-blooded, aristocratic family somewhere in Europe, then it’s a no.”

  “That sucks.”

  “That’s my life.” I smile sadly at his glum expression, seeing the gravity of this, of us, coming to rest on his broad shoulders, forcing them down a fraction. “They’ll do everything in their power to rid you from my life.”

  “And I’ll do everything to keep you. I told you, I won’t lose.”

  His gallant gesture is warming. “Neither will I. I know what being with you will cost me, and I’m fine with that. Relieved, actually.”

  “Your place in succession?”

  “And possibly my home. And my family, and definitely my allowances.”

  “All of it?” He looks horrified, and in this moment I get a pang of worry, stepping back out of his arms. What if my title and position are what’s appealing for Josh? What if this is all a big publicity stunt to him? I cock my head, thinking carefully, trying to reason with my runaway thoughts. That’s utterly preposterous. He doesn’t need the fame, nor does he need my money. Josh’s head tilts to the side too, his eyes examining me. “Don’t you dare think what I think you’re thinking,” he says shortly, recoiling a little, offended.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” I lie, guilt quickly eating me up inside. His palm meets my chest and walks me backward until I’m pinned to a wall, his face up close to mine, pure disgust invading it. “I could have nothing left,” I murmur, putting it out there. “No title, no money, nothing.”

  “You will have me.” His face is so stern, but the words are soft and pleading, and I go lax against the wall.

  “I need you to know—” His mouth meeting mine swallows my words and straightens out my tangled mind.

  “I know.” Josh lifts me from my feet and carries me to the bedroom, placing me on my feet at the end of the bed. “Don’t ever question what I want out of this. I want you. Nothing else. Nothing more. Just you.”

  His phone rings from the side of the bed, and we both turn to face the sound. Josh frowns and moves us toward the bedside, and he solidifies against me when he notes who is calling.

  “What?” I question, not liking his wariness. “Who is it?”

  “My publicist.” He breaks away from me and starts walking across the room, his back to me. “Yeah?” Stopping by the window, I see his muscles roll in waves of aggravation. “What? For fuck’s sake. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up and starts scrolling through his phone, yet I don’t ask what has got him agitated. He looks too focused. Too annoyed. So I remain where I am, worrying my lip through my teeth nervously. His attention is unwavering on his screen, and he eventually groans. And I lose my ability to keep quiet.

  “What is it?” I ask, nervous, though I still don’t know why.

  He turns and lifts his phone with a lazy hand, his lips straight. “The Internet has exploded. The one good thing is that no one knows it’s you under the hoodie.”

  I approach him, my eyes set on the screen of his phone, where there is a picture of Josh ushering a bundle into the hotel. Me. “Oh.”

  “There’s a video on YouTube gone viral, too.” He swipes his screen, and I suddenly hear Josh yelling at the press to back off. He sighs. “Who is under that hoodie? It’s the most asked question on the Internet. Apparently, the crowds outside have doubled and the hotel staff are being overrun with calls.”

  “Oh,” I say again, hating the tightness in his jaw.

  “We should start thinking about how we’re going to get you out of here.”

  For the first time since I stowed away in Damon’s car, I think about the fact that I haven’t once considered how I will get back in. “Oh.”

  “Have you lost the ability to string a sentence together?”

  “I can’t get back into the palace.”

  “What?”

  I turn and start pacing the room, kicking myself. I was so desperate to escape, I didn’t give a moment’s thought to getting back in. “I will never get back in without being seen and prompting an investigation as to where I have been and how I manage
d to get there.”

  “We’ll call Damon,” Josh says, all matter-of-factly, like it’s problem solved.

  “Are you insane?” I gasp, swinging around to face him. “He will string me up alive.”

  “What else do you suggest? A zip wire from a nearby building? Parachuting in? Or maybe we can dig a tunnel from here.” He clasps his chin, contemplating his outlandish ideas as he hums. He’s mocking me, and I don’t appreciate it. Had I not been blindsided by him, maybe my brain would have been functioning at its fullest when I hatched my escape plan.

  Scowling at him, I stomp my way to the bed and drop my arse on the side, flinching when my skin makes contact with the soft sheets. “I hate this.” I whine, my fingers fiddling in my lap, resentment building. “When I leave here, I’ll leave with my head held high. Let the world see. Let my family see. They can’t stop me from being with you.”

  “Slow down,” Josh orders, coming to me and kneeling at my feet, taking my fidgeting hands. “You can’t let them find out like that. It won’t help.”

  “Nothing will help. Don’t you see?”

  “Won’t you let me go shooting with your father? Get a feel for how the land lies?”

  “The land?” I laugh under my breath. “It will lie under your back when the King orders you dead.”

  “So dramatic.”

  “So realistic, Josh.”

  His phone rings again, and this time he puts it on speakerphone. “Did you see?” a lady asks when he answers.