by Amelia Wilde
Not with me impaled on Marcus’s thick length and Augustus doing something behind me. A drawer opens and closes, and then Marcus palms my bottom cheeks with a harder grip, pulling them apart.
Shame, hot and sexy, burns its way across my cheeks. I thought they’d seen everything before, but now they can see everything—everything. Something cool and slick meets the most sensitive skin on my body and Marcus presses his mouth hard against mine. This is what I wanted, this is what I asked for, and the reality of it is so intense. Augustus has a finger against the one place I thought a man would never go, and it’s a delicate touch....only then it presses in, in, so firmly that Marcus has to hold me still.
Even if they send me away, I’m not leaving with nothing.
I’ll be leaving with experience. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted—I wanted experience, and I’m getting it now, at the hands of the kings.
Marcus starts up his rhythm again, somehow making his body press against mine in all the right places. Every movement puts the sweetest pressure on my clit. How many times can a woman come in one afternoon? I guess I’m about to find out, because the pleasure twists and winds between my legs until I’m a quivering mess on his cock all over again. That’s when Augustus slips a second finger inside of me.
The pressure, the stretch. It’s a lot. And it’s not nearly as much as his cock is going to be. But I ache for it, even as I ache to take him in.
“Can’t wait,” he grunts, and Augustus is all man in this moment. A king, yes, but a man first and foremost, and that’s what comes through in his voice—the man. The base instinct to—to take a woman. To take me. He works his fingers in and out and then they’re gone and fear descends over me so completely that I’m worried that Marcus won’t be able to kiss it away.
But he only kisses harder, his tongue demanding entrance to my mouth. He hums a low noise and it spreads through the rest of my body to where the thick head of Augustus’ cock is pressing against a tiny, tiny hole. It’s also demanding entrance.
Demanding.
I can’t say no and I don’t want to say no. I don’t want to say no ever again. I want to bend my body across Marcus’ muscular chest and feel the sturdy weight of Augustus behind me. I want the hurt and the stretch of feeling him enter me while Augustus is inside me. Oh, god, it’s hard—but I don’t want it to be easy. I want to struggle to take my men.
My men.
Tears gather at the corners of my eyes, and it’s only partially from the size of what’s entering me, inch by inch. He is so big. They both are. And I can’t fathom the girl I was when I woke up this morning, hurrying to dress and do my hair so that I could make a delivery that was supposed to take fifteen minutes at most. It wasn’t supposed to end with me losing my virginity—multiple virginities—and loving it.
Augustus pushes in the rest of the way, going deep, and my entire body clenches around both of them. There’s no room left for anything or anyone. I am completely filled.
Marcus makes a low noise in the back of his throat. “Do you feel that?” It’s dirty, the way he talks about me but over my head, to Augustus. Heat coils low, adding more slickness to the gush that’s already there.
“Fuck. Of course I do.” Augustus strokes his hands down my back, and my waist. For a king, he has strong hands, like he’s spent his life working. I wish I could ask him about it but I can’t speak—can hardly do anything except moan. And when this is over—
I won’t think about it.
Another cool drizzle—Augustus, adding more lube—and he starts to work himself slowly in and out. Marcus waits, ever patient, and joins him when he’s figured out the rhythm. How do they know to do this? How can they both make it so good? How can I get taken in the bottom and still be on the verge of another earth-shattering orgasm? It’s going to be atomic in its force, I can feel it—I can feel it coming—
The pleasure that tears through me then sets both men free from whatever it was that’s been holding them back. Maybe it was my virginity, I don’t know. All I know is that Augustus puts his hands down hard on my hips and yanks me backward, Marcus thrusting in deep to keep up, and I am utterly trapped. Pinned. Between two muscular male bodies and thick cocks. Impaled. Coming, coming, coming. The moment one orgasm stops, another one begins. This one, the one I’m in now, starts with a slow wave like the tide coming in, but then it crashes over me, sucks me under.
I can’t breathe. A hand in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat. Lips pressed hotly against the banging pulse in my neck. I don’t know who I’m arching to or away from and I don’t care—I only know that I want more. And there’s more to give. More power in the thrusts, hands holding me so tight they threaten to bruise. Bruise me. Is that me saying it, or only the voice in my head? Mark me. Make me yours.
Augustus is the first one to break, coming hard in hot spurts I can feel. I can feel it. I never thought I would be able to. God, I was so naive. This morning when I woke up I was so damn naive. He tenses and shakes behind me and it doesn’t take much for Marcus to follow. He’s so deep he’s bottoming out and I’m still, even now, struggling to take all of them in. Struggling, but only in my mind—my body wants this. My body wants this dirty, filthy love.
Love rattles around in my brain as they work together to bring me one last, sweet, aching orgasm.
And then they pull out.
I fall face first onto the pillow next to Marcus, take in one deep breath...
...and let out a sob.
A huge, anguished sob that takes me off guard. I rock back up onto my knees, naked, horrified. “I’m sorry,” I sob. “I didn’t meant to start crying.”
Shock flashes through Marcus’s eyes and he sits up, making soothing sounds and running his hands over my hair. “It’s to be expected. You’ve given up so much, and now—”
“And now you’re going to make me leave,” I howl. “That’s the deal, right? This is all because I dropped those peaches in the street. You said I would never go back, but you didn’t mean it.” Augustus wraps himself around me and puts his chin on my shoulder, which doesn’t feel like he’s kicking me out, but maybe he is. My lip quivers. I have to look so stupid. “But I don’t want to go. I want to stay for...at least the weekend. Oh, god. This is so embarrassing. I can’t—I just can’t.” I climb awkwardly out of the bed, and then—what? My dress is a torn heap on the floor. I don’t have shoes. I’m going to have to borrow clothes. From the kings!
Marcus bursts out laughing, his face transformed by his smile, and it’s a truly stunning sight—all blue eyes and dimples next to his cut jaw. He has dimples! Who would have thought? He leans comes to me and kisses me softly, gently. Then he pulls me back onto the bed, which feels like climbing onto a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean.
“Miranda, we don’t want you to stay for the weekend. We want you to stay forever. Be our queen.”
“But what about—” There are so many things. “What about my father? What about the fact that I’m just a commoner and you’re kings? Won’t everybody be against it?”
His face darkens. “If anyone is against it, then they deserve to be exiled. Augustus and I have been waiting years for the perfect woman. Sweet. Courageous. Open-hearted. We knew it from the moment you walked into that throne room. Didn’t you feel it, too?”
“Yes,” I gasp. “I did, but it can’t possibly be real.”
“Why not?” Augustus has such a rich, rolling voice. “All it takes to become queen is a coronation ceremony. And I think we’ve just had one here. Don’t you agree, Marcus?”
Marcus purses his beautiful lips. “She needs a crown if she’s going to be queen.” Then he scrambles off the bed, going to rummage through a closet nearby. A closet full of crowns? It can’t be, but Marcus comes back with a delicate tiara and climbs back onto the bed, his cock bobbing between his legs. He puts it gently on the top of my head. “There. Our queen.”
“Can we still have a wedding?” My voice is ridiculously small, but if I’m going
to have this fantasy, then I want all of it. The white dress. The two grooms. All of it.
“The biggest wedding you’ve ever seen,” Augustus promises. “We’ll announce you to the kingdom. You’ll never be hidden away again. And you can order as much lingerie if you want, but you have to know...”
“What? Tell me.” My heart has never beat so fast.
“You won’t be wearing it for long. Not with us as your kings.”
It seems impossible, unfathomable, but a feeling swells in my chest like a storm. “I love you,” I sigh. “Both of you. And I know—it sounds crazy. We’ve only known each other an hour. But I do.”
“We do, too.” Marcus and Augustus take turns kissing down my neck. “We love you.” Those echoing voices—they’re all I’m ever going to want in the world. Forget the wedding. I’ll take the grooms, and that will be enough.
“Come back to bed,” murmurs Augustus.
“We’re already in bed,” I point out.
“Then just come,” he says, and when his hands slip down to my secret places, I do.
Epilogue
Marcus
Nine months later
I run my hands over the round swell of Miranda’s belly and the baby inside kicks hard. Then her sibling kicks, too. Miranda leans back against the pillows on the bed and grins, though her cheeks have gone permanently pink and it can’t be comfortable, all those fists and feet inside her belly.
“You’re a wonder,” I tell the babies, and Miranda, too. It is a wonder to be nine months pregnant with twins.
Our twins.
I run my hands over her belly again and those babies greet me as enthusiastically as they always have.
How things change.
Augustus comes into the bedroom and whips off his shirt, his skin shining with sweat from his workout. I’ve never seen him look happier than when he climbs up next to us on the bed.
“Say hello,” I command him, imperious and joking.
“Hello, babies,” he murmurs against Miranda’s skin.
I know, though it’s impossible to know, that one will have blue eyes and one will have brown. It’s meant to be. I knew it was from the very first moment I saw Miranda, and now it’s true. We got married six weeks after she came to the palace. By then, she was already pregnant with our twins.
“Do you think they’ll come tonight?” She puts her hands on top of ours while she muses. “I wouldn’t mind if they did. I think it’s time for them to explore the palace without me.”
“I get to hold the first one,” says Augustus.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” He shoves me lightly on the shoulder and I shove him back. The space between us is gone, now that Miranda has come to take it up. To be the queen. And so much else, too. Her peach farmer father didn’t want her to get the extra degree she wanted, so now she is. He didn’t want her to order sexy clothes from the catalogues, so now she has a separate wardrobe room all to herself. But our Miranda doesn’t want to wear clothes, most of the time. Not when she’s this pregnant. Her skin is always hot and soft and the babies make her hotter. So she lives in our room, naked and free.
Well...not completely free.
“You know,” Augustus says seriously. “I’ve heard that there’s a way to encourage babies to come out faster.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Miranda’s eyes still hold a shred of innocence. I don’t think it’ll ever leave.
“The old-fashioned way,” Augustus says. “Who do you want to help you, darling? Me or Marcus?” He’s already pulling down his shorts.
“Both of you.” She holds up a finger. “But take turns.”
We promise to take turns, and she lays back on the pillow and closes her eyes as Augustus works his way between her legs. I promised, so I’ll keep that promise. I’ll wait my turn to lick the sweet flesh between her legs and explore her with my own body.
I wish I had a painting of her like in this moment. I think I’ll have one made—Miranda, pregnant and glowing, a nude queen in our bed. Always ripe for the taking.
Thank you so much for reading KING X2! If you liked this sweet & sexy palace romp, you’re going to love HER MASSIVE MISSILE, a shortie with fireworks to spare.
I need a hero. Now.
My mother always told me not to walk home alone, and this is why:
Three guys, waiting for me at the alley. And by the looks of them, their intentions are not pure.
I'm in huge trouble...
Right up until a mystery hero swoops in and sweeps me off my feet. Literally.
He's massive, muscled, ex-military, and...my old high-school crush?
I thought I was over him.
I thought wrong.
One-click HER MASSIVE MISSILE now!
Want something longer? Warning: this one’s dark!
"Breathtaking, intense, and scorching hot, King of Shadows is the modern myth I've been waiting for." –Skye Warren, New York Times bestselling author
Luther Hades has always been my family’s sworn enemy. He’s the opposite of everything we stand for—ruthless to the core.
I want my freedom, but Hades wants me. And I’ve walked straight into his trap.
There has to be a way out of his fortress of a mansion. I’ll get away—I have to. Even if it costs me everything.
And it will cost me everything: my body, my soul...and my heart.
One-click KING OF SHADOWS now!
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Connect with Amelia
Amelia Wilde is a USA TODAY bestselling author of steamy contemporary romance and loves it a little too much. She lives in Michigan with her husband and daughters. She spends most of her time typing furiously on an iPad and appreciating the natural splendor of her home state from where she likes it best: inside.
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P.S. There’s more where that came from!
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