“That would never happen,” I growled lowly. Her eyes darted up to mine, and I shook my head slowly.
“That’s never going to happen, angel, because there’s no other way I could ever possibly look at you other than the way I am right now. So tell me,” I said quietly. “Tell me, and let me fix it.”
Slowly, cautiously, she nodded.
“Callie’s not the only one with an arranged marriage.”
It took me a second, but when it hit me, I felt every muscle in my body clench tight with anger, my jaw grinding tight with rage.
Riley. Riley was betrothed to some other man.
The blind rage was consuming, like fire searing through me. I’d just found her, and the idea of someone else scooping her up and taking her away from me made me see red.
“Who?” I growled, my eyes narrowing.
“Prince Franklin Smothers,” she said quietly. “I— I don’t even know him, expect that he’s stuffy, and arrogant, and—”
“And not going to be your husband, I can promise you that,” I hissed, my hands closing tightly on her and pulling her against me.
No way. Not him, not any man. I’d wanted her before. I’d lusted for her, and craved her. I’d wanted her heart, and her body, and her love. But now? Now it wasn’t just a flashing desire I had. Now it was a fact: Riley would be mine. No one else’s. Mine and mine alone. Fuck Prince Franklin. Fuck any other man who thought they deserved an angel like her. Let them try. Let them try to get her. I’d take them all. I’d face the whole fucking world for her.
“It’s this whole arranged thing,” she whispered, her eyes searching mine. “He’s at the wedding, and I’m supposed to ‘get to know him’ better while we’re—”
“That’s not going to happen.” My voice was thick with emotion and edged in steel, and when she looked deep into my eyes, I could see hers widen at the fury in mine.
“Because you’re not Prince Franklin’s,” I growled, my hand sliding around her waist. “You’re not any other man’s, actually.”
“No?” she whispered.
“Not a chance,” I groaned back, pressing her into the wall as my lips brushed hers. “No, you’re just mine, angel,” I hissed into her lips. “You’re mine and mine alone.”
“Yeah?” she threw back. “Says who?”
“Me.”
My lips crushed to hers, and she melted into me, kissing me back hungrily as her hands tightened on my jacket and pulled me close.
“Good,” she whispered, moaning as her lips seared to mine and her tongue teased across mine.
I groaned, pulling her leg back up to my waist and feeling her curl it around me. My hand slipped back between her thighs, and when I slid it over her soaked, messy panties, she cried out into my lips.
Oh, she was mine alright. Mine, and mine alone. Mine to have, mine to claim. I slid her panties to the side, my fingers easing back into her eager pussy as she moaned eagerly. Her hands dropped to my pants, yanking at my belt and tugging at my zipper as my pulse thundered in my ears. Her hands slipped inside, and when her small fingers wrapped around my thick, throbbing cock, she gasped.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpered quietly. Her hand stroked me, making me groan and making my muscles tense. I rolled my fingers over her clit in small circles, making her gasp loudly as her hips rocked against me. She moaned into my mouth as she pulled me free of my pants, my pulsing, hard, hot cock throbbing against the skin of her tummy. I groaned, curling my fingers deep inside as I felt my length pulse against her skin. Her little hands slid up and down on my big cock, coaxing my hot, sticky precum from the swollen tip to trickle down her tummy and soak into her panties.
“You won’t be Franklin’s, angel,” I growled, swallowing her gasp as I started to grind my palm into her clit. “You won’t be any other man’s. You’re mine now.”
She cried out, her body trembling and her slick little cunt leaking her arousal all over my hand. I could feel her rocking against me, her slippery, velvety soft walls clutching tight around my fingers as her hand stroked me faster and faster. I shoved her panties down to just under her pussy and pushed my thick, swollen head down her belly. She moaned deeply as I slid it over her skin, leaving a trail of sticky precum as I let the head bump over her clit. I ground into her, letting my thick cock head bump over her clit again and again, my hips moving as if I were fucking her. My hands curled in and out of her heavenly cunt, driving her higher and higher until her moans filled the hallway.
“What— oh God, what if someone walks around the corner?” she moaned quietly, panting as I teased her pussy higher and higher, my thick cock rubbing over her clit.
Yeah, anyone could see us if they walked around the corner, but I didn’t care anymore. Hell, I wanted the whole fucking world to know she was mine. Not Franklin’s, not any other weak, lesser man.
“Then they’re going to find you with your panties around your thighs and my hand between your legs. They’re going to find a dirty little girl stroking my fat cock against her pussy, begging for more when I make her come for me.”
She moaned, loudly, her small hands stroking me faster and faster. I could feel my sticky precum leaking over her pussy, and as I stroked my fingers in and out of her again and again, I knew she was getting close. I knew I was close to shattering her, and making that sweet little cunt come all over my fingers.
“Someone could walk around that corner any time, baby girl,” I groaned into her lips, tasting her moans and feeling my balls swell with cum. My cock ached for release — hungry to mark her with my seed and claim her as my own.
“Oh God, I’m…I’m going to…”
“Someone could see you being such a dirty girl, begging for me to make you come,” I growled. “So you’d better come soon, angel. You better make that pretty little pussy come all over my hands and all over my cock.”
Riley cried out, her hand jerking my cock faster and faster as her whole body tensed.
“Come for me, angel,” I groaned, feeling the cum boiling in my balls. “Come for me like bad girl.”
She moaned as the orgasm slammed into her, her whole body rippling and clenching tight as the climax crashed over her. Her pussy clamped down around my finger, her slick cum coating my hand as she mashed her lips to mine and screamed into my mouth. Her hand stroked faster and faster, until suddenly, I knew I was past the point of no return. I groaned, my hand sliding into her hair and crushing her to my mouth as I felt my balls pulse and the cum explode out of me. Hot, thick ropes of my sticky white cum pumped against her, splashing over her skin over and over, coating her tight little pussy with my seed.
Slowly, her hands slid from my cock and she sagged into me, her legs trembling from her orgasm. I reached down, gripping my still-hard cock and stroking the last drops of cum from the head. I glanced down, groaning at the mess I’d made of her — my white, sticky cum covering her pussy and the gusset of her little pink panties.
Good.
I reached down, hooking my fingers into her panties and tugging them back up her thighs. I pulled them tight against her, and she moaned as she felt my hot cum soaking into them.
“Keep me right there, angel,” I growled. “Keep my cum right there against your sweet little cunt until I can give you more.”
“Yes please,” she whispered breathlessly, kissing me slowly as we melted together.
“Good girl.”
Our lips came together again, and I kissed her slowly and deeply, until I didn’t even know long we’d been.
“Wait, what time is it?”
Riley grabbed my hand, glancing at my wrist watch and gasping sharply. “Oh shit, I have to go!”
“Is there a Ferrari or a Bentley somewhere in desperate need of genitals carved into the door?”
She grinned, sticking her tongue out at me, which only got my blood pumping even hotter. She gasped as I yanked her against me, kissing her fiercely and letting my hands slide down to cup her tight little ass.
“And where are you off
to?”
“I’m supposed to meet up with my mother to…”
She looked down.
“You have to go play the part, don’t you?”
She nodded, looking up at me with a wrinkled nose and pout on her face.
“I— I don’t want to—”
“I understand, angel,” I said softly. “Trust me, I understand the parts we all need to play. Just don’t forget that you’re mine. Not Prince Fuckwads.”
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
My hands pulled her close, teasing over her as I leaned down to kiss her lips softly.
“It means go mingle, go play the part for the people you have to play the part for. But after that, I’m coming for you. After that, I’m taking you away from all of this.”
And I meant it. I’d only just met her, but one look and I’d known. One taste of her lips, and one feel of her body against mine, and I knew there wasn’t a single outcome for me that didn’t involve her being my queen. Literally.
I was going to steal her away from all of this — from her arranged bullshit marriage, from the part she thought she had to play. From the royal world that wanted to pretend we were in the middle ages and that a girl like her had to do as she was supposed to do. I wanted her for all of her — her sweetness and her sass. I craved that fire inside of her — that explosive rebel need to resist and to set her own way.
I didn’t want to make her this pretty little princess on a pedestal. I wanted her to be my untamed, wild queen.
My wife.
My heart.
My only, and my everything.
So let her go chat with her parents who wanted to control her. Let her go smile for the fuck-wad who thought he could have her. She was mine, and no amount of small talk and pleasantries was going to change that. And when she was done with all that, I’d be taking her from this wedding, taking her to my bed, and taking her as my queen.
I kissed her slowly, letting her melt into me before we pulled apart — her to go find her mother, and me to go lay the groundwork for what was to come. I had plans to make.
“Rumford.”
“Highness”
Rumford had been my chauffeur and personal assistant since I was a young man. He was loyal, stone-cold, and sharp as a tack. And he knew me better than I knew myself most of the time.
“I have a favor I need you to do for me,” I growled into the phone.
“Name it.”
I smiled to myself. “I need you to start drawing up a marriage license.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line, and then a low, gravelly chuckle.
“Absolutely, Your Highness.”
“And all the accompanying legal forms — anything the parliament might want from their king when I marry.”
“Might I ask who our new queen might be?”
I smiled.
“Riley Noles. Duchess of—”
“Irin,” Rumford finished. “I know her family.” He cleared his throat. “Highness…”
“Yes?”
“Forgive me, but isn’t she engaged to be married? To Prince Franklin, of Purn?”
“She is. But not for long.”
Rumford chuckled.
“Consider it done. Anything else, sire?”
I grinned hungrily. “Yes, actually. There are some items I need brought here, to King Milton’s palace. Quickly if you can.”
“I can be there in an hour.”
I thanked Rumford and hung up, my blood roaring in my ears and my muscles clenched tight. I’d been away from her for an entire five minutes, and I was already craving more of her. I texted Rumford what I needed him to bring and grinned to myself.
Oh, I wasn’t done with Riley, not by a mile. And I had much more in store for her.
Chapter 6
Sven
“Well, at least Milton sprung for the good shit.”
I snorted as Cole raised his glass to Xavier’s and mine, clinking before taking a big sip.
It was insane how little all of us thought of this wedding. In all honesty, I wasn’t even sure why the fuck any of us had been invited anyways. King Milton was a douchebag, and none of us were remotely friends with him. Hell, most of us didn’t even do much to hide our disdain for him. But then, that’s royalty for you — being “seen” is more important than actually having the respect of your peers to some people I guess.
But at least I had my best friends here with me. Looking back, I wasn’t even sure how the four of us had ever linked up as friends, but I knew why we all stuck together. In the world of the snobby royal elite, the four of us — myself, Hayden, the king of Rince, Cole, the prince of Luthane, and Xavier, Duke of Bandiff — sort of stuck out. We bucked tradition. We didn’t adhere to the snobby rules of most men in our positions. Hayden and Cole were the more obvious standouts, with their highly visible tattoos and larger than life reputations — Hayden for having gone from nothing to king of an entire country, and Cole for being, well, Cole — reckless bad boy with an edge.
But Xavier and I stuck out just as much, even if our ink and our stories were a little more hidden. We both had our demons, and our own darkness. For Xavier, it was from fighting in too many wars, and for being a man of his age without ever having settled down. Though he was still ridiculously handsome and in insane shape for a guy half his age, Xavier was pushing fifty, and hadn’t ever done the whole get married and have a family thing. Well, he had his ward - Princess Lola, the daughter of a man who’d once been Xavier’s friend before he betrayed their king and fled, leaving Lola behind. Xavier had basically raised her for the last few years, and, well, let’s just say I had my suspicions — none that I was stupid enough to bring up to his face of course.
And me? Well, I’d been alone for a long damn time. My parents had died when I twelve, leaving me to become King of Northlund way earlier than any boy should have to become a man. But my father had taught me well — strength, conviction, and compassion. He’d taught me young to understand that a king isn’t a ruler, he’s a protector. My job wasn’t to lord over my subjects, my job was to make sure the people of my kingdom were looked after, and thriving, and happy. I’d fully embraced the position and the responsibly that came with it, but it’d left me little time for a personal life. There’s been sporadic women over the years, but nothing had ever stuck. Most of them wanted a crown, a title, and a shopping expense account from me and not a whole lot more.
Yeah, I’ll take being alone over that bullshit any day.
For a time, I imagined myself like Xavier — growing older and just being okay with being permanently single. Hey, it worked for him, it could work for me.
…The opinion had changed the second I’d walked around the corner of that garden wall to find my sassy, fierce, wild angel carving a cock into the side of my car. Because in one single second, I’d known. I’d known that she was it. She was the something I’d never found in any one else. Not the pliant, well-mannered, primped and proper little princess looking for a husband to make her feel relevant. No, Riley was none of that. Hell, the idea of “well mannered” alone made me grin.
No, she was something else. She was explosive and unapologetic. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to tame that sass of hers or let it run wild. Maybe both. Maybe it’s just that I wanted to feel that wildness riding my cock while I gripped her hair tight and made her come like she’d never come before.
I growled to myself, completely lost in the fantasy as I brought the whiskey to my lips.
Suddenly, the glass was snatched away.
“The fuck?”
I whirled, glaring when I realized Hayden had joined us. I scowled as I watched him slug back my drink.
“Help your-fucking-self,” I grumbled, snatching the empty glass back.
“I needed a drink.”
“Well, we’re standing at a bar,” I grumbled back. I peered at Hayden, seeing the wild look in his eyes and the flush to his cheeks. Yeah, something was up. Especially since he’d
been a damn ghost since we’d gotten here.
“Where the hell have you been?” Cole tossed at Hayden as I turned to order another drink.
“Nowhere.” Hayden shrugged, nodded at me as he took the fresh drink I passed him.
Xavier shook his head, his deep baritone voice like velvet and whiskey rumbling over the edge of his glass. “You’re up to something.”
“Perhaps.”
Xavier glanced at me and I raised a brow. Yeah, we’d discussed our theory earlier. Hayden’s utter hatred for Milton went past the disdain the rest of us had for him. And he’d been especially vocal to us about how much he detested the arranged marriage of Milton and Callie, and how wrong it was. Then we’d gotten here and he’d disappeared — right towards the bridal quarters.
Yeah, something was up.
“And perhaps it has something to do with Milton’s pretty young bride-to-be?” Xavier said evenly
Hayden glared right back at him. “Easy.”
“Which means I’m dead on the money, doesn’t it?”
“You really want to start throwing stones up in that glass house of yours?” Hayden growled.
Cole and I chuckled, grinning at each other. Leave it to Hayden to go there with Xavier and start hinting at the suspicion about him and Lola. Hey, it was his fucking funeral.
“And what does that mean?” Xavier’s voice had a dangerous edge to it, and I could see Cole grinning away, like he was trying to figure out if this was going to turn into a fight, and whose side he might jump in on.
“It means don’t play pious with me,” Hayden muttered. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Who?” Xavier growled dangerously.
Ahh shit, here we go.
It was like there was this heated tension running through our whole group — me running hot from being with Riley, Hayden’s blood clearly up over Princess Callie, as much as he was denying it. And Xavier, clearly more ticked off over the cracks about Lola than he should have been, which meant our suspicions were close.
“Maybe I’ve got eyes on the bride of the evening, but I’m not the one with his eye on his own pretty young ward,” Hayden shot back. “You want to talk about Princess Lola?”