by Kate Tilney
He gapes at me in surprise. I shake my head and press a finger to his lips. “There is something Sarah is eager to do first.”
I take advantage of his confusion and push him toward the bed. I reach for the button on his pants again as I sink to my knees.
His eyes widen before his eyelids lower in a sultry, sexy way. “I didn’t think princesses kneeled to anyone.”
“In the bedroom, all protocol goes out the window.”
I unzip his pants and reach into his boxer briefs, releasing his hard length. My stomach flutters and my mouth waters in anticipation. I run my hand up and down his shaft and he groans.
“Careful there, baby. Or this will be over before it starts.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
He kicks off his shoes, and I pull his pants and boxers all the way to the ground. My mouth covers him. My tongue runs over the tip, his salty taste fills my senses. I lower my head, taking more of him in my mouth as my hand moves up and down him.
He groans, digging his fingers in my hair, urging me on. His enthusiasm only makes me hungrier. My free hand grabs onto his backside, pulling him deeper inside of me. My tongue, my lips, my fingers urge him on.
“Oh, God, baby. You feel so good.” He groans again. “I can’t wait to taste you next.”
The image of his head between my thighs instantly soaks my panties. I hum with anticipation, even as I taste his.
My head bobs up and down, silently begging him to give me what I want. To give me all of him. He tenses below my fingertips and with my name—only my name—on my lips, he comes hard, shooting his seed into my mouth.
I lean back on my heels and glance up at him. His eyes are clenched shut, his jaw slack as he takes deep breaths. Catching my stare, he pulls me to my feet, bringing my lips to his again. Our tongues mating. His hand slips down to the waist of my jeans and under the band. His mouth moves from mine, trailing kisses along my cheek and down my neck. Fresh waves of arousal pulse through me.
“That was incredible,” he murmurs near my ear. “Now it’s my turn.”
Tugging off my shirt, he gently pushes me to the bed so my legs hang over the edge. I lean up as he tugs my jeans and panties down my hips. He peppers kisses where his fingers have been.
“I love your body.” He takes a playful nip at my hip. “It’s so soft. So sweet.” Then his gaze meets mine, and a wicked smile crosses his lips. “Better grab a hold of something, sweetheart.”
Ryan
I slide one hand around to Sarah’s sweet, round ass, while my finger slips through the fold to find her. My tongue traces the inside of her thigh. She shivers and tangles her own fingers into my hair.
I rub my cheek against her inner thigh as my thumb traces her clit. Her thighs press against my ears. I chuckle as I slip my tongue up to take my first taste of her. Her gasp mingles with my moan. She’s even sweeter than I imagined.
My tongue laps her up. I feast on her like she’s Thanksgiving dinner. I slide one finger inside of her. Then another. She’s so tight. She bucks up against me, crying out. My other hand moves up and over her hip. I press down on her belly, tracing my thumb through her neatly cut bush, holding her in place.
“Ryan.” Her grip on my hair tightens. “Oh, Ryan. Yes. Yes.”
Her cries turn into screams as I feel her tremble against my mouth and hand. I stay with her as the orgasm ripples through her body.
As she lies there on the bed drawing in deep breaths, my hand traces up her curves. I join her on the bed, my mouth moving where my hands have been. My hands cup her breasts through the lace of her bra. My dick aches again with need. God she’s beautiful. And her breasts—so full, so soft—feel even better than I imagined.
Watching her come, and the taste of her on my lips, has me hard again.
I slip the straps of her bra over her shoulder and tug one breast free. My mouth comes over the nipple while my fingers prod and pinch the other. Her breathing quickens again, and she moves against me.
“Oh, Ryan.”
When I can feel her reaching another peak, she grabs at me. She pulls me up so her tongue can dual with mine. I like that she’s a woman who knows what she wants and takes it. She may be all prim and proper at ribbon cuttings and operas. But in a soccer match and bed, she is wild and untamed.
Her lips tear from mine. “I need you inside of me.”
I bet I need to be inside of her more.
While I’d love nothing more than to ride her bare right now, I reach for my wallet and remove a condom. Though we’ve crossed the line, I can never forget who she is and who I am. I’d love to fill her with my seed, but I know her position as the future queen comes with expectations and obligations.
Having the child of an American nobody isn’t on a future queen’s to-do list.
Rolling the condom on over my hard length, I move on to my back and pull her on top of me. Her thighs on either side of my hips, she sinks back slowly. My fingers lace with hers. I hiss through clenched teeth as she takes me inch by inch.
Sweet, Jesus. I’m in heaven again. She leans back until her ass is flush with my hips. She moves forward once, twice. Teasing me, teasing her. I savor the play for as long as I can. Until I can’t take another second.
I release her hands and grab her hips, thrusting up to meet her move for move as I urge her to move faster, harder. She throws her head back. One hand moves up her belly to cover her breast. The other lowers to where are bodies are joined. Watching her touch herself, pleasure herself, nearly takes me over the edge.
But I need her to come first.
“Come on baby. Come for me.”
And almost on cue, she does. Her muscles grip my cock, pulling my pleasure into hers and pushing hers into mine. I empty myself into the condom as she shouts my name once more.
When the last wave of pleasure has run through us both, she collapses on top of me. Our chests rise up and down. Our hearts pound against each other.
I press my lips to her temple, and trace my fingers over her bare back. There will never be another woman for me. Even as my head screams that it’s impossible, my thundering heart tells it to shut up. Whether or not she kicks me to the curb or her father throws me into a dungeon, she has my heart. I am hers now and forever, come what may. And she is mine.
Sarah
We are back on the boat before the sun rises over the hills. Even though I am settled in my love’s lap as he steers us toward land, my spirits sink. My heart splinters with every mile we move closer to Rhodon. I sincerely doubt anything awaiting me there can measure up to the perfection of yesterday—to being simply Sarah and Ryan.
Seemingly sensing my train of thoughts, Ryan lifts a hand to my shoulder and massages. I look up and into his serious eyes.
“Do we have to go back?”
His lips curve into a sad smile. “I’m pretty sure your dad will have my head on a stake as it is. If I don’t get you back by lunch, he’ll probably have my balls on spikes, too.”
I cannot help but giggle at that, but I sober again quickly.
“I meant do we have to go back to the way we were before yesterday?” Unable to look at him, I face forward, where Rhodon grows closer and closer. “I know we said yesterday was a free pass, but . . . ”
How do I tell him? How do I tell this man I want more when I do not know how there can ever be more?
Ryan’s hand slips down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake and slides around my stomach. “Your father will probably fire me. But I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
I raise my hands to cover his arm, hugging him close to me. I know this is fast. I know there are a million reasons why my father—and everyone—will say we cannot be together. But when I am with this man, everything feels possible.
Even ruling the country.
We reach land within the hour. Pulling the boat to the marina, Ryan swears under his breath. I follow his gaze and mutter a few choice words of my own. There on the dock is a full contingent of the palace guard w
ith the senior guard himself standing with his arms crossed.
“Looks like we have a welcome party.”
I glance up at Ryan. “Maybe we should become pirates.”
“I think it’s a little late for piracy, Princess.”
We have barely turned off the engine when guards surround the boat. Ryan jumps onto the deck first, offering a hand to me. He pulls me up and against him for a moment.
“We will figure this out,” he whispers, pressing a kiss below my ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He releases me then and turns toward Georgio. The two men exchange a look I cannot quite decipher, before the senior guard turns his stare to me.
“Princess, I think you should come with me.”
Georgio reaches for my arm, but Ryan pulls me back against his chest. “You might be my boss for a few more minutes, but no one touches the princess on my watch.”
I brace myself for Georgio’s wrath—ready to intervene on Ryan’s behalf. Only, instead of ordering his minions to haul Ryan away, I swear the guy is fighting a smile. I cannot remember ever seeing my father’s head of security express even a hint of humor.
Satisfied neither of us will be dragged anywhere without our say, I glance up at Ryan and catch the frown on his face.
“Two o’clock,” he says. “By the popcorn vendor.”
Georgio swivels. I’ve barely shifted my own gaze when someone shouts. Ryan wraps himself around me and pulls me to the ground a second before I hear it. The unmistakable crack of a gunshot.
I clench my eyes shut, my hands pressed to the wood-planked ground. Ryan’s arms squeeze me tighter, and he jerks. My heart thunders in my chest, in my ears, in my knees. It beat, beat, beats through me, my blood running cold.
In the distance there are more shouts and movement whirling around us like a dream or nightmare.
“You okay?” Ryan whispers in my ear.
I manage a short nod.
“Good.” He presses a kiss against my hair. “Just take a few deep breaths for me.”
His thumb moves over my belly, soothing me into doing what he’s ordered. It works. After a few deep breaths in and out, my heart steadies and the world comes into focus.
I open my eyes in time to see a shadow kneel in front of us. Based on the polished shoes and black slacks, it’s one of the palace guards.
“We have someone down here,” he calls out. “We need a medic.”
I shake my head at the over-the-top response.
“I am fine,” I insist.
“That’s good, baby,” Ryan says.
It takes me a moment to recognize the tension in it. Before I can ask what’s wrong, someone pries Ryan away from me and onto his back. Another guard offers me a hand, but I ignore it. I push myself up onto my knees and turn.
Georgio hovers over Ryan, a red handkerchief pressed to his arm. No. Not a red handkerchief. A white handkerchief covered in blood.
Ryan has been shot.
“No!” I scramble to his other side, gripped by a terror I have never known. I barely reach him when I am pulled away by another faceless guard. I shove and push to no avail. “Let me go!”
“It’s not safe for you here, ma’am. We don’t know if the area is secured.”
“But Ryan.” I wriggle again, struggling for breath. “I need to be with him.”
“He’s in good hands.”
I would rather see to his care myself, but no amount of flailing and clawing works. I am in the back of a black car, which skids away before the guard loosens his hold.
I press my face against the window, but all I see is a crowd of observers. The siren of first responders wails in the distance, but we disappear into a tunnel before it arrives.
Ryan
The shooting pain in my arm jerks me awake. I’m clutching at it before I open my eyes. There’s a white bandage wrapped around it. And I’m wearing a damned paper dress.
The dock. The gunfire.
Sarah.
I bolt up, but a hand pushes me back down.
“Careful there, young man. You’ll pull out your IV and tear your stitches.”
I turn toward the voice and find Georgio. Of course. The king must have sent him here to fire me. A guy can be laid up from taking a bullet, but when he’s sleeping with the future queen, there’s no time to waste.
“Is Sarah—the princess—is she okay?”
Georgio’s stern expression softens. “Not even a scratch. The man who fired the weapon is in police custody. He appears to have acted alone.”
Relief floods through me. She’s okay. Not even a scratch.
“Just how much trouble am I?”
He lifts a shoulder. “You bled like crazy, but it’s just a flesh wound.”
A flesh wound that hurts like hell. I made it through four tours in war zones with a few scrapes and bruises. But a few days on the job watching a reluctant princess, and I’m laid up. How’s that for a kick in the pants?
“You didn’t answer me before. How much trouble am I?” I lift my arm, wincing at the pain as I let it drop back to my side. “Because I’ll tell you this. The king can fire me. He can try to kick me out of the country. But I’m not going anywhere until Sarah says otherwise.”
“I don’t know.” Georgio pulls a face. “The king can be a stubborn man.”
“He hasn’t met me.” I’ll give him hell, king or not.
“No. He hasn’t.” A slow grin spreads across Georgio’s face. “But I have. And I’ll tell you this. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not going anywhere.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You’d defy the king?”
“Within reason.” He chuckles at that. “And while I have no doubt you have a long, difficult road ahead of you, I’d say you proved something today.”
“What, that I can take a bullet?”
“That you’d take one for the woman you love.” Georgio pats me on the shoulder. “As a father myself, I can’t tell you of anything else I’d like better in a future son-in-law.”
Sarah
Father wastes no time calling me to the throne room for a tongue-lashing. He is waiting for me the moment I set foot in the palace.
“Do you have any idea of what could have happened to you?”
“Happened to me?” I wipe the tears that will not stop falling from my face with the back of my hand. “How about what happened to Ryan?”
The memory of him lying on the ground, blood pouring from his arm, lances my heart. Another sob wracks my body.
Father frowns. “You mean the bodyguard who should have kept you from leaving in the first place?”
“He was doing his job.”
“His job was to keep you here.” He pulls back his shoulders, like he is preparing himself to launch into a full speech.
But I am not in the mood for speeches. Not when I have no idea of whether or not Ryan is okay.
“Before you say anything else, before you scream about duty and honor, please.” A fresh tear slips down my cheek. “How is he?”
Father’s frown stays firmly in place, but he sighs. “Georgio says he needs a few stitches. They want to keep him overnight, but he’ll be free to go in the morning.”
“Oh thank God.” I wrap my arms around myself and fall to the ground in relief. “Thank God.”
“What are you doing?”
“Praying.” I clench my eyes shut.
Thank you, God, for saving Ryan. Thank you, God, for bringing him into my life.
When my eyes open again, I catch the interest in my father’s eyes. For the first time since I walked in the door, he does not look angry or upset. Just . . . interested.
I release a shaky breath. “I think you should know something.”
He says nothing, but nods for me to continue.
“I have found the man I intend to marry.”
His eyes widen. “Surely you do not mean—”
“I do. I am in love with Ryan.” I push myself up to my feet so I can stare my father in the eye as I tell
him what is in my heart. “Ever since we learned about the falsified paperwork, I have been terrified. I did not know how I could ever hope to be queen. But Ryan makes me stronger. Like I can—and should—be queen.”
Father’s jaw tightens. “Georgio speaks highly of him. And I have read his record. But with all of the distrust running rampant, surely you cannot plan to make a life with a common American.”
“Mother did not have a title.” I lift my chin. “And before you say that is different, or that it is not allowed, rest assured that I have read our country’s constitution and rules from beginning to end. I know as queen I can choose my own husband.”
“But you are not the queen.”
“Not yet. But I will wait until I am to marry Ryan if you do not give your blessing and permission sooner. I’ll wait, even if it means I am an old woman.”
Hesitating a moment, I take my father’s hand. “But, Father . . . Dad. You know the weight of wearing the crown. Surely you can appreciate what it means to have someone at your side who makes you the best version of yourself to serve the country.”
My father swallows. “Then I suppose there is only one thing left to do.” He turns his hand over to take mine. “I had better go meet my future son-in-law.”
Ryan
I’ll be damned if I’m staying here overnight. I struggle to pull on a T-shirt when there’s a knock at my hospital room door. Georgio enters.
“You have a visitor.”
I tug the shirt down so I can glare at him. “Do I look like I’m fit for company?”
“You’ll want to see this visitor.” He smirks. “But you’ll probably want to be dressed.”
Before I can ask what he means, two more men in dark suits enter the room followed by a man I recognize from the money in my wallet. The king.
Pulling the shirt on over one shoulder, and down to cover half my chest, I rise to my feet and bow. “Your royal highness.”
