Filthy Ever After (Royally Screwed Book 5)

by Madison Faye

  “Your Highness, if I may—”

  “Any other time, Tomilson, but not with this,” I growled. “You wanted me to throw a ball and find my queen? Well, I have. Now I just need to find her again. And this time?” I took a deep breath, my blood running hot and my mind squarely on my mystery angel.

  My everything.

  “This time, she’s not leaving my side without a ring on her finger and a crown on her head.”

  Chapter 9

  Emilia

  Mornings in my house were always a sort of cherished bliss to me. Even that morning, when my head and my heart were still reeling from what’d happened the night before at the palace. Because in the morning, it was just me. No Marta. No Portia. No Renata. I mean, I was the first one up because it was part of my job to “do breakfast,” even if Vi was constantly trying to remind my stepmother that it was her job.

  But no, they wanted me to be the breakfast bitch. I was pretty sure it was mostly just because Marta thought it was funny to make me get up early every day. But, the joke was on her, because I liked being up early before anyone else.

  I was just taking the first sip of the first cup of coffee of the day, when my bliss was shattered by Portia and Renata as they came thundering into the kitchen.

  “I can’t fucking believe it!”

  “I know! What a complete fucking psycho! Who the fuck says no to a King?”

  I froze, turning and raising a brow at my two stepsisters, who glared at me like I was imposing by even just being in the kitchen.

  “What are you looking at?” Renata muttered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Portia rolled her eyes. “Do you not read the news?”

  “I do after breakfast?”

  She snorted. “Whatever. This is huge.”

  “Wait so you didn’t see the official royal decree?” Renata made a face. “It was all over Twitter. It’s been on the news and everything. Have you not been on Twitter today?”

  “I…don’t use Twitter?”

  The both of them groaned, like I’d made a horrible social faux pas.

  “It’s King Rian,” Portia finally spat my way.

  “What…” I swallowed. “What about him?”

  “He found his Queen last night.”

  My stomach dropped, and for a minute, the whole room spun. He’d found his Queen. I wanted to cry, or rage, but instead, all I could do was stare into my coffee. So, it had all been a bunch of lines. He’d told me a bunch of pretty things to try and get what he wanted from me, and it’d worked. I’d fallen for it before I’d freaked and ran off. And after all of that? After all of those pretty words and the way he’d made me feel? The promises he’d made?

  After that, he’d apparently gone back to the party and found his Queen anyways.

  God did I feel stupid.

  I started to turn, numb, but Portia kept going as she pushed past me to get a cup of coffee.

  “Yeah, found his Queen, but that’s not even the best part.” She snorted. “The crazy chick ran away.”

  My heart skipped a beat, and I gasped quietly as I steadied the coffee mug in my hand.

  “What?” I squeaked, turning back to them.

  Renata laughed. “Can you fucking believe that? What a dumb bitch. He picked someone from the ball for his Queen, and she left him high and dry. People are fucking insane.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling my skin tingle. “Maybe there’s more to the story?”

  Portia laughed cruelly. “Yeah, she forgot to take her meds or some shit.” She looked at me expectantly. “Uh, earth to Emilia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Um, eggs? Scrambled? Now?”

  I frowned, turning away. “Right, yeah, I’m on it.”

  “Morning girls.”

  Marta blew into the kitchen like a storm, and when I saw the look on her face, I froze.

  Uh oh.

  I knew that look. It was part conniving, part evil, part mean, and part just plain crazy. It was the look she got when she’d devised some new shit for me to do in order to “earn my keep” at the house. But, this was a little different.

  “Girls,” she said, her face glowing as she grinned wickedly at her two daughters. By “girls” she meant them of course. I was just background noise.

  “You’ve heard the news?”

  Renata laughed. “About the crazy girl who said no to King Rian? Mom, it’s all over the internet. Yeah, we’ve heard.”

  “Good,” Marta sneered. “Because we’re having company later.”

  Portia frowned. “Company?”

  “Company relevant to current news,” Marta smirked.

  Her daughters looked at each other in puzzlement, but to me, the pieces were already connecting.

  No way. No way. Marta was a conniving bitch, but she wouldn’t be crazy enough to—

  “King Rian.”

  Shit. She was crazy enough.

  Portia and Renata squealed.

  “Wait, WHAT?!”

  Marta beamed at them.

  “Why?” My voice was quiet, but the three of them turned to me, three sets of eyes glaring at me.

  “Why what, Emilia?” Marta snapped.

  “Why is he coming here?”

  Renata scowled at me, but she turned back to her mom. “Yeah, mom, why?”

  “Why?” Marta spat. “Because one of you two,” she wagged a finger between Portia and Renata. “Is going to be Queen, that’s why.”

  “Huh?” Portia looked confused, but I already knew where this was going. And sure enough, I was horribly right.

  “One of you is going to convince His Highness that it was you. That you were the mystery girl who ran last night. It was a party,” she shrugged. “He was drinking, it was dark. Look your best, we’ll feed him some drinks, and you’ll flirt, and that’s that!”

  Portia frowned. “Mom, I don’t know—”

  “He needs to be convinced. If he was sure of who the girl was, he’d already be married to her. She ran? Her loss, but our gain, girls. He’s a lost man, looking for something to grasp onto. And we’re going to give him something.”

  “Marta,” I swallowed, “I think this might be seen as fraud by most—”

  “Shut your mouth,” my stepmother snapped dismissively, shooing me away. “Go make yourself scarce. The King won’t need to see the help while he’s here.” She turned back to her daughters and smiled wickedly.

  “The King is coming, girls. And mark my words, he’s not leaving this house without a Queen.”

  Chapter 10

  Rian

  The car pulled to a stop, and I sighed.

  Another house. Most likely more bullshit.

  I glanced out the window as the rest of the motorcade pulled into the circular drive of the manor house. The house needed work, that was clear, but I could tell it at least used to be something of beauty. Oren made a final check of the perimeter before nodding at me through the bulletproof glass of the car, and I stepped out.

  This was my tenth visit of the day, and it was barely two in the afternoon.

  I knew the decree would being out the liars, or at least the hopefuls. But I’d underestimated the response. Four hundred women. Four-fucking-hundred and eleven, to be exact, had already replied that yes, they were in fact my mystery girl from the ball. Princesses from neighboring kingdoms, and semi-famous Hollywood actress I was quite sure hadn’t been anywhere near my country, let alone in my palace the night before. Divorcees, college girls with crushes. A woman in her eighties who I’m fairly certain was just doing it to get me to come visit her retirement home earlier that morning, which had been sweet, to be fair, but it was still pulling me from my goal.

  Finding her. The real her. The woman who’d stolen my heart the night before, and the woman I’d make my queen.

  There front door opened, and of course, I was right. Another dead end. More bullshit. I didn’t understand these women who thought they might persuade me into forgetting the girl whose
mouth I’d kissed — whose legs I’d spread and whose sweet little pussy I’d made come on my tongue.

  She was wearing a mask, but I wasn’t fucking blind.

  And the worst part of these visits was that royal honor — aka not being a dick — meant I had to stay for at least ten to fifteen minutes and smile and nod and laugh when they sheepishly admitted that “maybe they’d been mistaken.”

  Right.

  “This way, Your Highness!”

  This house had three of the claimants — a woman and her two daughters. My security had run the checks, and they had at least actually been guests of the ball the night before. But still, I knew this was going nowhere as I followed them into the house. The mother ushered me into the lounge, making a big show of yelling for her staff to bring me coffee and food, though I declined.

  “Well, Highness?” She batted her eyes, her absurd amount of cleavage spilling over the top of her blouse. “Do you recognize any of us from last night?” She purred the words, adding this sultry tone that only made me have to work extra hard to hide the humor from my face.

  “I don’t believe I do,” I said with a practiced, toothy smile that Tomilson said would test well for the public when I was essentially calling these women out on their bullshit.

  “You sure about that, Highness?” One of the daughters draped herself across the sofa next to me. She batted her overly-done eyes at me, and when her hand landed on my knee. I stood.

  Yeah, we were done here.

  “May I use your bathroom?”

  The mother nodded eagerly. “Of course, Sire! Down the hall, second door on the left.”

  I nodded as I strode from the room, my pulse racing.

  I was wasting time. Every one of these bullshit visits was taking me further and further from finding the real her. I swore inside my head. This whole idea of a decree had been stupid. After all, she ran from me the night before. How in the ever loving fuck was putting out a royal decree going magically bring her back into my arms?

  The second door to the right, not the left, suddenly flew open, and hands pulled me into dark room.

  And just like that, she was there. Just like that, she was right back in my arms. Like magic.

  “How—”

  She kissed me, and suddenly, I didn’t even care anymore. I didn’t care that she’d ran, or that I still didn’t know who she was. None of it. The other piece of my heart was back in my arms. Universe corrected, fate properly realigned. I kissed her back with everything I had, hands sliding up her back to tangle in her hair as we tumbled into the room. I kicked the door shut behind me, shuttering us away from everything out there in the world that wasn’t her and me.

  “You,” I groaned into her lips.

  “Me,” she whispered, her big eyes round as they looked up into mine.

  “Who are you?”

  My mystery girl took a deep breath. “My name is Emilia.”

  Emilia.

  Fuck, just hearing her name was like this caress to my ears.

  “Emilia Kinsey.”

  I frowned. “Lord Kinsey’s daughter?”

  “Yes. We…” She blushed. “We actually met once, when—”

  “When we were kids,” I whispered. And suddenly, it all clicked. Suddenly, the instant attraction, and the magnetic pull to her made sense. She wasn’t just some girl I’d just laid eyes on. She wasn’t a stranger.

  …She was the girl I’d had a crush on for my entire life. Literally.

  I remembered the angel I’d seen that day. I’d been so young that I barely even recognized girls. But her? No, she stood out. She pulled my attention like nothing ever had that day her father had come for a small audience with my father. It was over so soon, but I knew, there in that dark room with her all those years later that I’d never let her go. She’d stayed with me — a part of me. She was the benchmark all other women had to be held up to — all of whom inevitably failed.

  Because there was only one her. One Emilia. My one and only.

  I kissed her again, groaning into her as the two of us crushed together.

  “Why did you run?” I growled, pulling her into me.

  “I— I’m not a princess.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “And I snuck into your party.”

  “Good,” I groaned, kissing her neck.

  “I thought if you saw me for the fraud I was, you’d…”

  “Whatever you thought, you’re wrong.” I shook my head, our eyes locked. “There’s nothing you could do for me not have given my whole damn heart to you the second I saw you. I’d want you no matter who or what you are, Emilia.”

  Our lips crushed together again, this time with even more urgency, and more passion.

  “Why now?” I groaned. “Why’d you find me now, and tell me?”

  “I ran from you once,” she whispered, looking up into my eyes. “I— I can’t run again. Not from this.”

  “Then don’t,” I said softly. “Don’t ever run from this, or from me. Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Home.”

  Our mouths came together once again, lips parting as my arms slid around her body. I pushed her back until we came up against a shelf of some kind in the dark room. I didn’t care where we were, all I knew was that having her in my arms again and having her lips on mine was all I wanted.

  Well, except that wasn’t entirely true. I did want more. I wanted everything with her, and I was going to have it now.

  My mouth dropped to her neck, making her gasp as my hands slid down her thighs. She was wearing a skirt of some kind, and as I tugged it higher, her moans grew louder in my mouth. Her own hands slid over my chest, fingers exploring my muscles through my button up shirt. She slid them lower, teasing over my abs and making my blood roar as I pulled her dress higher.

  My hand slid between her creamy, heavenly thighs, and when I felt the slick, wet heat flooding her little panties, my cock throbbed. I groaned, letting one finger trace up and down her lips through her panties, and relishing the little whimpers of pleasure from her lips. My fingers dipped under the soaked lace, and when they brushed her bare, petal-soft lips, both of us groaned deeply.

  Emilia’s hands slid lower, and when they traced over the front of my suit pants and felt the enormous bulge there, she moaned softly.

  “You’re— you’re so big,” she whispered heatedly.

  “It’s yours, angel,” I groaned. “It’s all yours.”

  I tugged her panties lower, pulling them away from her heavenly pussy and tugging them down her thighs. Her fingers fumbled at my zipper, her breath catching as she slid it down and dipped her hand inside.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, her small fingers wrapping around my throbbing, trembling cock. I growled, kissing her fiercely as my hand slid back between her legs. I stroked her sweet little cunt, her arousal dripping from my fingers as she moaned wildly into my mouth. She pulled me free of my pants, whimpering as my thick head pulsed against her belly. Her little hands stroked me, pumping my cock and making me growl like an animal into her lips.

  Later, I’d take my time. Later, I’d spread her out on my bed and fuck her like a queen. But right now, I knew we were both too caught up — both of us too wound up to wait for anything but explosive release.

  I slid my fingers into her, pumping two of them deep inside her sticky, hot little pussy. Emilia moaned wildly, bucking her hips against me as she started to jerk my cock faster. I groaned, thick sticky precum leaking from my crown to trickle down her soft tummy and dribble over her cunt. My thumb began to roll her clit in slow circles, and her legs started to shake.

  “Your Highness…”

  “You want to come for me, don’t you sweetness?”

  She whimpered, nodding her head as her eyes fluttered close.

  “You want to make this sweet little pussy flood my fingers with your cum, don’t you? You want to come with your hands on my thick cock, feeling it pulse against you as you make me come with you. Mak
e me come when I make you come, angel. I want to feel your little pussy come all over my fingers.”

  She cried out, and suddenly, I felt her pussy clamp even tighter around my fingers. She shuddered, panting as I kissed her fiercely and moaning wildly into my mouth as she came. I groaned, her hands stroking me faster and faster against her body until I lost all control. I felt my balls twitch, and with a roar into her mouth, I followed her over that edge.

  My hot, sticky cum pumped in thick ropes across her belly, coating her hand as it trickled down her body. She moaned, stroking me over and over, coaxing more cum from my swollen balls. She angled me down, and more of my hot seed splashed right against her pussy, making her messy with me — marking her with my cum as we both gasped for air.

  I kissed her slowly, tasting those lips once again as I slowly dropped my hands from her. I pulled her panties up, making her whimper as I pulled them tight against her pussy — my cum and hers soaking into them.

  “We’ll get you cleaned up at the castle,” I whispered. “Our castle.”

  She nodded, biting her lip as the grin spread across her lips. “I— I should pack.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I'll send someone to collect anything you want later. And those women — your stepmother and stepsisters?” I scowled. “Leave them too.”

  She kissed me slowly, wrapping her arms around my neck like she never wanted me to let her go.

  “This is your father’s house, isn’t it? His that they’ve wronged you in, and all but kicked you out of?”

  “Yes.”

  My jaw tightened. “It’ll be yours again before I’m done with them. Let’s go.”

  I pulled her from that room, our hands clasped tight. And then I just kept going. I breezed past the room where her stepmother and those horrible stepsisters of hers were still waiting for me, ignoring their shocked gasps as I stormed right for the front door, pulling Emilia with me, with Oren close behind.

  “Your Highness!”

  The older woman, Marta, Emilia’s stepmother, screeched as she ran out the front door after us.

  “Highness!”