Royal Brat

  Yeah, well, I’m meeting the total bore-fest scumbag I’m going to have to marry soon today. Sue me.

  But then, maybe my friends were right. I was pushing it too far, and I knew it. I wasn’t just being my usual wild self, I was acting like a crazy person. And I could say that a lot of that was because of the whole Prince Franklin thing, but as of ten minutes before, it was about way more than that.

  …It was about trying to hide the raw heat teasing through my whole body. It was trying to hide the filthy, panty-meltingly steamy fantasies burning though my mind, all of which centered around one very attractive, very cocky, very dominant, and very off limits man.

  King Sven.

  Honestly, me reaching for a drink again wasn’t even about Franklin anymore, it was about him. It was about trying to calm my racing pulse, and to get my filthy thoughts in check before I said or did something embarrassing. It was about trying to quiet the pure need I had blazing inside of me for more of him. His hands on me, spanking my ass and making me want to moan had been a tease, and I wanted so much more. I wanted more of those big hands on me — more of his firm grip, of the cool, confident, and totally sexy way he’d just bent me over and punished me for being such a brat.

  I bit my lip, squeezing my thighs together, my whole body aching for more of what he’d lit inside of me. But slowly, I glanced at my friends and shook the daydreams from my head. I’d always told my friends everything, but there were now two big deals in my head I wasn’t telling them. One, that Franklin was at the wedding that day to formally meet me before he married me up like some prize. And two, that all I could think about was dropping to my knees in front of Sven, or bending over his knee, and totally submitting to him — letting him take anything he wanted.

  My face flushed, and I took a deep breath to clear my head.

  No, this wasn’t the time for moaning about my arranged marriage. Not with Callie about to do the same thing that day. And I most certainly wasn’t about to start blabbing about how hot it’d been to have Sven bend me over his car and spank my bare ass, or about how insanely wet I’d gotten from it, or how all I could think about was pushing his patience even more to have that feeling again.

  …I mean, these were my best friends in the world, but c’mon, there are limits.

  I took a deep breath, clearing my head as much as it was going to be cleared as I smiled at Callie.

  “Sorry, I know it’s my job to give you a hard time, but it’s also my job to tell you we’re all here for you no matter—”

  And suddenly, I saw it. I saw the whole picture with her — the red face, the wild look in her eyes, the glow surrounding her.

  …Callie totally had just had a guy in here.

  She swallowed nervously, seeing the suspicion on my face. “What?”

  “You’re all flushed.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Uh, yeah, you are,” Lola said slowly.

  “I’m just excited.”

  All three of us — even Faith — arched suspicious brows at Callie.

  “Right,” Faith muttered.

  There was an awkward silence for a second, and I could see Callie squirming under it all. I cleared my throat to break it up.

  “I still think we should have a drink.”

  Lola laughed. “Think you brought enough to share, you wino?”

  “Okay, fuck you much?”

  Lola and Faith snorted and giggled, and I grinned as Callie put her arm around me.

  “Hey, it’s my wedding and I say you can do whatever you want.”

  “Why thank you,” I said primly. “Maybe later you and I can have a drink and I just won’t share with these two hags.”

  Lola laughed harder, raising a brow at me with that devilish look in her eye she got sometimes. “Or I could tell these two who I saw you canoodling with earlier.”

  Shit.

  She’d ambushed me with that one, and my face went bright red and my jaw dropped.

  “I wasn’t canoodling with anybo—”

  “Oh, she was,” Lola snickered, wagging her brows at the other two.

  Faith grinned, her eyes going wide. “Ooo, who?!”

  “Look,” I shot Lola a warning look that she totally ignored. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but—”

  “King Sven,” she said smugly, grinning at me.

  I groaned, sliding my hands over my face. “I hate you.”

  “Hey, King Sven is handsome!” Faith said cheerily as Callie giggled and hugged me around the shoulders.

  “Handsome? Uh, no. Sven is fucking hot,” Lola snorted.

  “Yeah, well, hands to yourself.”

  “Oh, ‘cause he’s all yours?” Lola shot back with a grin.

  “No, because your daddy might get mad.”

  Gotcha.

  It was Lola’s turn to blush bright red, which is exactly what she did.

  “Well, anyways…” I grinned wolfishly at the still-blushing Lola.

  “Oh are we done with the subject of you canoodling with King Sven?”

  I jokingly gave Faith the finger as all four of us started cracking up.

  We left Callie to get changed so the seamstress could put the finishing touches on her wedding dress. Lola and Faith went off to the ballroom or something to mingle with the rest of the wedding crowd, but I made up a fake errand that Callie had asked me to run for her and slipped away. I strayed off by myself — off to explore and maybe try and center my thoughts a little bit.

  And yet, it was a hopeless idea. Because all I could think about was something I knew damn well I shouldn’t have been thinking about. I’d been insane earlier to have allowed that to happen, right? Sure, Sven was ridiculously hot, and that dominant aura that swirled around him did all sorts of things to a girl’s heart rate. But that edge to him scared me a little. For all my bravado and my whole thing with acting like the “wild one” of my group — the “experienced” one — I knew compared to a man like Sven Arding, it was all an act. I just played at being tough, where he was actually a rough, tough, commanding and dominant man.

  A man almost twice my age. A man that really shouldn’t have been stirring these feelings inside of me. A man who I’d had no business losing my head over earlier, when I’d gone off the deep end, bent over for him, and moaned when his firm hand spanked my ass.

  Maybe I’d drank too much. Maybe I was all turned around with this whole arranged marriage thing. Maybe watching one of my best friends do the same thing had lit something angry inside of me.

  …Or maybe, it was just that being around Sven, and feeling that dark, possessive power that swirled around him made me want more.

  Because as wrong as I knew it was, and as much as I knew for everyone’s sake that I should dodge him for the rest of this dumb wedding and be on my way, I couldn’t. As much as I knew I should just keep what had happened as this wild, filthy memory and just go do what was expected of royal girls like myself and marry who I was supposed to, I couldn’t. Because all I wanted in the world as I roamed the empty halls of that palace was to feel it again — the spark, that feeling of giving him complete control, of giving in.

  That and I wanted his hands on me again, and I wanted them all over me.

  But like I said, it had to be a memory and nothing more. A dirty fantasy to keep me up at night years from now, when I was bored and forcibly married to Prince Franklin. For now, I just had to get my head clear, forget about it all, and just be there for my friend on her wedding—

  I shrieked as I rounded the corner and walked right into a solid wall of hard, rippling muscle.

  “Well, well, well.”

  His dark, deep baritone voice rumbled through me, tingling through my fingertips, my hands having fallen against his chest in our collision. I drew a sharp breath, biting my bottom lip between my teeth before I forced myself to look up. My eyes dragged over his chest, up to his gorgeous, smoldering face.

  “Looking for something to vandalize?”

  I blushed. “No
.”

  “So you’re just looking to get that pretty ass spanked again then.”

  Oh shit…

  I swallowed again, blinking as I stared into is dark, beautiful eyes. I knew a million things I should have said. Like “no,” or “go fuck yourself,” or to tell him to watch his mouth around a royal duchess like myself.

  But, I didn’t say any of those things. Not at all. Instead, I opened my crazy mouth and said the one word I knew you were never supposed to say to a man like King Sven.

  “Yes.”

  The word was like lighting a match in a dark room. I could see the fire glinting in his eyes as his jaw clenched, and I could feel the heat of it teasing through me and across every inch of my skin.

  “Careful, duchess,” he growled lowly.

  “Or what?”

  “Or you might find that trouble you’re so hell bent on finding,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on mine and his jaw tense.

  “Maybe you hadn’t heard,” I tossed back. “Trouble seems to find me no problem.”

  “Well,” he smiled dangerously. “Here I am.”

  “Well maybe this time you won’t be such a pussy about—”

  It felt like I was falling as his hands shot out, grabbed me, and yanked me into him. And the words meant to provoke him hadn’t even finished falling from my lips before he crushed his mouth to mine, and stole my breath away. He kissed me hard, and deep — fiercely, until I was melting into him.

  “Remember this moment,” he growled into my lips. “Remember that you could have walked away.”

  But that wasn’t true at all, and I knew it deep inside of me. From the second his eyes had locked with mine back there in the gardens, I’d been his.

  “Remember that you didn’t,” I whispered back. “Remember that when you find out how much trouble I am.”

  Chapter 5

  Sven

  Something inside of me caught fire as I kissed her. A piece of me I never even knew existed came alive, and broke free, and suddenly, it was like a beast taking over. I growled ferociously as I kissed her, my hands tightening on her small little body as I pulled her into me. Kissing her was like tasting heaven. It was everything I wanted it to be — hard, fast, wild, and unrelenting.

  That first kiss was us coming together — our personalities melting into one another. Her sass and her chaotic fury with my need to take, and hold, and control. Those forces wrestled together like our lips and our tongues, our bodies molding together until I finally broke for air.

  Both of us panted, red-faced, eyes wild as we stared at each other in stunned silence.

  Fuck.

  I’d never felt that. I’d never felt anything close to what I’d just felt kissing her. And for what felt like forever, we just stared at each other, like we were both thinking it but trying to process it.

  Riley, of course, broke the silence.

  “Did I say you could kiss me?”

  I almost could have laughed. There was that fucking sass of hers again — that attitude that got my dick fucking hard as a rock.

  “Nope.”

  One word, and then I was yanking her back into me, and searing our lips together. Riley moaned into my mouth, whimpering as I kissed her fiercely and hungrily, until I slowly pulled away again.

  “But then, maybe you shouldn’t be kissing strange men,” I said quietly, holding her tight.

  “Maybe not,” she whispered.

  “You know what I think? I think you like being the bad girl.”

  Riley gasped quietly.

  Oh yes she does.

  “I think you like playing the part. But inside?” I growled lowly, my hands sliding around her hips, teasing across her body and down to her ass, until they tightened with a squeeze that brought a whimper to her lips.

  “Inside you’re just dying for some control,” I groaned into her. “I think you’re just aching for someone to enforce some rules on you with a firm hand.”

  I grabbed her ass and ground into her, letting her feel every thick inch of my cock throbbing against her through my pants and her thin bridesmaids dress. And I could tell by the way she gasped, and then by the way her face reddened and how her breath came out as a quiet moan that she could feel it.

  “You want to control me, that it? You think I’m some sort of prize for you to conquer?”

  “No,” I growled fiercely, my lips brushing hers as she gasped. “Not a conquest. Not something to control.” I shook my head, my eyes locked on hers.

  “You’re just mine is all.”

  Riley moaned deeply as I kissed her, pushing her back until she pressed into the wall behind her. I groaned into her, my hands sliding to her hips and tugging at her dress as I tasted her lips. I pulled it higher, bunching it around her waist, and I felt her roll her body against me. My hands pushed her legs wide, gripping one thigh and pulling it up to my waist. Riley gasped, whimpering and kissing me hungrily as I pushed between her legs until my thick cock was pressed hard against her soft little mound, covered by those tiny little pink panties. I could feel the molten heat of that little cunt pulsing against me, making every muscle in my body clench tight as my cock throbbed.

  I groaned, kissing her neck and feeling her tremble against me. My hand pushed up her thigh, until my fingers slid over her soaked panties, clinging to her pussy. Riley cried out, her hands clenching tight on my tuxedo jacket and her eyes shut as I growled into her neck and rubbed her sweet little pussy in slow circles. She arched her back, rocking her hips into me as her panties grew wetter and wetter against my hand.

  “Someone could—” she gasped sharply, whimpering as I rolled my finger over her clit through her panties. “Someone could see us here,” she whispered in a husky, hungry voice.

  “They could,” I growled. I ran my finger up and down her pussy, teasing her through her panties as her slick arousal soaked into the fabric. I slid them to the side, and when I touched that soft, slick, velvety little pussy, I felt the fire roar inside of me.

  “Anyone could walk around the corner and see this royal duchess acting like such a dirty girl, letting a strange older man play with her little pussy.”

  Riley moaned deeply, panting as I stroked her cunt.

  “Riley Noles, Duchess of Irin, with her panties to the side and her pussy leaking all over my fingers like a bad girl.”

  She cried out, whimpering in pleasure as I slowly eased a thick finger into her opening. I slid it deep, curling it against her walls and slowly stroking in and out of her as her body trembled for me.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, sagging against me. She tilted her head back, her eyes on fire as they locked into mine, and I was closing the distance between our lips in a second, kissing her heatedly. I pushed a second finger inside of her, my palm grinding into her clit as her sick, tight little cunt gripped my fingers eagerly. Fuck I could imagine my cock pushing inside, spreading that tight little pussy wide and making her mine — feeling her stretch around me until she was squealing in pleasure.

  Fuck, I needed more. I wanted to make her my queen, and worship every inch of her perfect skin. I wanted to mark her as my own, so the world would know she was mine. The whole brat thing was an act, but I was curious why she played it. Because with her moans dripping through my ears, and her body curled tight to mine as her eager pussy clenched tight around my fingers, I could see more of her - I could see the real her. Sweet, beautiful, smart, and wild. But not bratty. She wasn’t some insolent, snobby little princess like some of the royal girls you saw in tabloid stories about which famous guy they were screwing that week. No, there was more to Riley — something much bigger, and wiser, and more real than all that shit.

  “Why were you keying up my car?”

  The words caught her off guard, and she opened her eyes suddenly, caught in the midst of her pleasure as my fingers stopped.

  “I—” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do.”

  She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, eyeing me
carefully.

  “It’s…it’s kind of been a weird day. And week. And month.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  She smiled shyly. “It’s nothing, really.”

  “It’s something enough that you decided to carve a cock in the side of my car.”

  She blushed deeply, looking away. “I’ll pay for—”

  “I don’t give a shit about the car,” I growled. “I want to know what's hurting you — what’s turning who I can see is smart fucking girl into a brat just looking for trouble.”

  Riley looked away, but I pulled her close.

  “Tell me, angel,” I purred into her ear.

  “Fine,” she sighed. “I’m at my friend’s wedding to a man she doesn’t love, or even really know, because he’s paying off her parents debts in exchange for her hand.”

  Anger flashed across her face, and I could feel that same rage in my own chest. Fuck that. I detested the way some of these old kings like King Milton and his ilk thought just because they wore a crown, they could pretend they lived in the fucking dark ages. This whole shit with arranged marriages — especially in the instance of paying off some princess’s parents’ debts, was fucking barbaric. The hell was next, burning witches at the stake? Beheadings? The Black Plague?

  The idea of Riley’s friend being forced into a marriage with Milton of all people too made my blood boil. The man was a troll — a pathetic excuse for a man, and a terrible king on top of that.

  “That what’s tearing you up? Your friend?”

  “Well, yeah,” she sighed. “That and…” She shook her head, looking away.

  “That and what, baby girl?”

  She bit her lip, looking up at me with a strained look on her face.

  “It’s…it’s complicated.”

  “Try me.”

  “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

  “To tell me?”

  She nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Because,” she said quietly, her eyes looking at the floor. “Because I’m afraid you’ll stop looking at me the way you’re looking at me right now.”

  Something flared in my chest — this raw powerful need to protect her, and comfort her. To have her for my own, and shield her from the world.