by Nicole Snow
Unfortunately, so am I. Why?
“Gross! You'd better not let that thing out, or I'm going to scream,” she says, shaking her head, lying her sweet ass off.
“Suit yourself, Princess,” I tell her.
For once, I'm going to take her advice. Truth is, I'm half-freaked out by the time I turn around, walk back to the grill, and tend the meat, letting the rampaging hard-on die between my legs.
She's putting on a front. It's as weak as it is needy. I know how to deal with that, but everything storming up inside me, I'm clueless.
No, it won't take much to have my way. One more little push and I'll be between my fake fiancee's legs all night.
Why the hell does that have me so worried now? It's everything I've wanted for days.
Shit, I've never backed off pussy before, much less one that puts up a fight and makes me chase it.
I focus on dinner, pushing the thoughts away, plating up the steaks, sausages, and veggies. When I pass her plate, she's sitting on a rock, half a wine glass filled with rum in her hand.
“You finally cracked.” Smiling, I join her on the little boulder nearby, my own plate in hand.
Erin shrugs, forcing me to look at her cleavage again. “When in Rome...or Saint Moore, I guess. Besides, I've all but given up hope I'm going to survive the night without something strong enough to handle your antics.”
“No more bullshit. You're enjoying yourself,” I tell her, stabbing into my boar sausage and taking a big bite. It's good on its own. Better because I made it. “Admit it, love.”
“I'm enjoying this dinner. I wish I could say the same for the company, but, you know...we couldn't be more different, Silas.”
“That's what makes it so exciting. I'd have never asked a girl I found boring to marry me.”
“No? I thought you wanted one who would just lay down and accept all the teenage crap that seems to be your specialty.”
“Try the steak,” I tell her, pointing with my fork.
She blinks in surprise. I wait until she listens before I say anything else. Her face lights up when she tastes the garlic rub. My cock stirs for the hundredth time since we got here, imagining the same expression on her face when she takes every inch of me.
“That's my specialty, beautiful. I've got a few more to my name, but you'll have to wait until later tonight to find out.”
Her fork crashes on her plate. “When are you going to stop? No sex.”
Who knew I could hate two short, simple words so fucking much?
I glare at her, chewing my food. Okay, I'm back to wanting to close her sassy little mouth with every stroke of my dick.
“Soon as you learn to have some fun, Princess. You were doing great earlier this evening. Now, you've pushed that stick back in, deeper than before. I should've brought more rum for this job...”
“Yeah, that's exactly what we need. More booze, so you can act out even more, and I can be a babysitter instead of your wife.”
My gaze on her tightens. Her cheeks go brilliant red, and it's not just the fire. It's the only thing that tells me she really just said what she did.
Looks like I'm not the only one slipping on rum tonight.
“My wife,” I say softly. “That's what this is all about, isn't it? Look, I know what you think about me from the tabloids. You think there's no depth, nothing past the parties and the sluts I take to bed. You're worried you've agreed to a pretend marriage with a boy – not a man.”
“Have I?” She's asking honestly. No sarcasm this time.
“I never told you why I signed up for the Royal Marines, did I?” She shakes her head while I grab a stick near my feet, tracing lines in the sand in front of me. “I wanted an adventure, sure, same as every other red blooded kid does once his balls drop. But I wanted to give back, too. It was a trip to Africa that did it, this little war-torn country run into anarchy...I must've been seven or eight.”
Erin's watching me intently now. “Dad was there on charity, and he let me come along. Said it would be good to see what a future King handles beyond the stuffy bullshit back home.
“He spent about an hour talking to the elders in this village before security hauled us back to our luxury compound in the hills. I watched my father and his latest side bitch stuff themselves on caviar, expensive wine, and then head off to bed early. They slept in a handcrafted bed from the old colonial days. Me, I barely ate. I couldn't stop thinking about those people in the village. Their pain, their horror. Too many human skeletons missing limbs. Landmines did the damage, or so I'm told, and the chemical waste left by the war did the deformities. Hell's got nothing on what they went through. Just dragged through shit I couldn't even imagine, especially with my wealth and fame.”
I don't say anything until she nudges me. Everything's gone silent around us except for the distant, peaceful churn of the ocean and my stick skimming the sands. “Well, what happened?”
“Next day, we had to go through the village again, on our way to the landing strip to get back home. Our motorcade stopped a little ways outside it. At first, nobody knew what was going on, until the UN soldiers showed up with the Royal Marines. They said we'd have a bigger escort because the whole fucking village had been raided, burned to the ground, and every last person executed overnight by a few rebels who hadn't agreed to the truce.”
“Jesus.” Erin looks at me, her eyes big and wide, like she might be seeing something different for the first time.
Fuck, what am I doing? I've never opened up like this to anyone, much less a girl I want. Whatever the reason, I'd might as well finish the story.
“We made it home, obviously, without any further hitches. But we drove through the village. I'll never forget the burned out homes and the smoking piles of what must've been the poor, miserable people we'd visited the day before. They'd gone down easy after suffering so much. They were defenseless. I never forgave those rebels – I had Royal Intelligence hire hit men to murder what was left of them a few years ago. They hunted them down in the jungles like dogs, and they deserved every goddamned bullet.”
Erin's eyes are flickering now, and I watch the fire, letting the flames feast on my anger. “It wasn't just the rebels, though. I also never forgot what my father did – he covered up his bawling mistress' eyes and turned the fuck away.”
My muscles twitch. The stick snaps in my hand. Clenching my jaw, I lift it from the sand and fling it toward the fire, listening to the crackle and pop.
Even after all these years, I'm pissed. I'm not sure why I decided to tell her this shit, but it's definitely a bad idea.
Only thing that calms me down is when I feel her little hand on my shoulder.
She's comforting me. Erin, my Princess, the girl who's been looking at me all day like I'm something she found stuck to her damned shoe. I might as well double-down because this story is doing something.
“Yeah, so after all his lectures about royal duty, charity, and shit, he can't be bothered to look at what's happened to the people he's been pretending to give a damn about for a day. I realized speeches and lofty promises in front of the cameras won't solve shit. That's why I signed up to serve in the Marines. It wasn't about Queen and country, or some medieval fantasy about leading my boys into battle like my ancestors did. I had to do something, however small, to prevent a massacre like that from happening again. Nobody deserves to be defenseless, or stamped out like fucking ants. I'd like to believe we stopped a few executions in Afghanistan, but some days, I just don't know...”
“Wow.” Erin whispers softly, giving me the most predictable look in the world. “Well, you did everything you could, Silas. Don't beat yourself up.”
I ought to roll my eyes at this fairy tale fucking ending. I've just spilled my guts, one of my deepest, darkest secrets, and now she's seeing beauty behind the beast.
Beauty. Do I even have that?
Does it get any more cliché than this? Fuck, I don't care.
I won't tell her the rest. There's another reason
I paid my dues to the crown in my uniform.
That's because I'm scared shitless of ending up like my father, who took his scandalous life one step too far. He paid with his life and died with nothing to show for it. Nothing but a drink in his hand and another nameless slut on his arm when his party ship sank.
I can't end up like him. I won't.
“My life's a lot of fun and games, but that's not all it is. I don't care what the tabloids say, what grandmom thinks, or what you see, Princess,” I whisper. “There's more to me than fucking, drinking, and fast cars. I've done my time in the service, but damn if I'm going to stop doing whatever I can to help the people so far down on their luck they don't have any. I'm giving back to my kingdom and the world. It's the only thing I think about when I'm not drinking or screwing.”
“Giving back,” she repeats, looking past me in the fire. “I think I see now. That's why you chose me, isn't it? You could've had anyone, but you picked a girl who doesn't have wealth or fame or royal blood.”
Has she lost her damned mind? She couldn't be more wrong. I reach for her hand and pull her up, refusing to say anything until we're both standing in front of the fire.
“This isn't charity, love. You're as crazy as you are gorgeous, if you believe that.” She can't hold my gaze. Doesn't stop me from setting her on fire with my eyes. “This isn't real, we both know it. Doesn't change the fact that I'm a picky son of a bitch. I want a Princess who isn't afraid to sling it back at me. A woman who does more than just strike my cock like lightning every time I'm looking at her, feeling her, thinking about how hot and wet and sweet her lips taste on mine.”
Goddamn, I'm going to lose it. I can't stop myself anymore. Erin trembles in my arms, and I jerk her closer, holding her against my chest while I reach up with one hand, and cup her chin.
“Silas...”
“Enough. I don't want to hear my name coming out of your mouth again unless you're screaming it,” I growl, moving my lips to hers.
Fuck, fuck. She tastes incredible – better than the day I kissed her with the cameras watching.
It's not just the ridiculous, romantic setting out here, with the sea, the fire, and the sun sinking below the horizon, surrendering to the rising moon. It's her.
It's Erin. She wants this. I feel it in her kiss, the way she moves her tongue against mine when I take control of her mouth.
My dick turns to steel, ready for conquest, hungry to be in her. I won't let the greedy bastard rule me.
I'm taking this slow, savoring it, relishing her in a sweeping, slow moving conquest like a fire sweeping through the forests.
“No, Silas. No sex,” she whimpers, one last gasp from the rational, scared side of her I'm about to fuck into oblivion. “The ink's barely dry on what we signed...”
“Contracts change, love,” I whisper, closing my fist behind her head, taking those long, silky brown locks I've been dreaming about fisting for a solid week. “We can fuck. We both want this, we're alone, and there's nothing in the world that's going to stop us.”
“Yeah, there is.” She looks at me with those soft, dark eyes, so scared and so horny all at once. “If we do this...it won't be pretend anymore.”
“Bullshit,” I say, smiling. I'm going to kiss her again in about five seconds, whether she fights it or not. “Time for an amendment to the deal, effective immediately. Let's do this like adults, like lovers, and then go our separate ways when the time comes. It's just sex, love. There's nothing saying you can't be my fake wife and a fuck buddy simultaneously. I'm your Prince with benefits, starting now, and you're going to love it.”
She doesn't have an argument because I've already won. So has lust.
Our mouths do the talking when I crush my lips down on hers again. Then I reach for that little bikini strap behind her back, my cock throbbing ten beats a second, craving what I've been denied.
I'm owning every last inch of Erin Warwick tonight, and as long as she's wearing my royal ring, I'm not stopping.
9
Like a Dream (Erin)
I never, ever imagined this.
There I am, standing on the beach, face-to-face with the dirtiest playboy in the world. No, closer.
He's kissing me with a heat and intensity no woman could resist. He's already popped off my bra, taking one aching breast in his thick, strong hand. His fingers move with the same grace as his mouth – hungry, but ready to tease.
Silas looks at me, swallowing me up in those big, blue eyes, just as his fingers roll my nipple.
“God!” I sputter, pressing into his grip, wishing he'd pinch, suck, and fuck me harder.
“You're beautiful when you're on fire. Fuck, Erin. Time to feel mine. All of it. I want to light you up like Christmas and see how hot you get.”
My knees go weak. I can't tell if I'm pressing my hips into his because I need the support, or because my pussy keeps going against the rock hard, insanely huge outline of his cock like a magnet.
A very wet, persistent magnet that's put me completely under its control.
I can't think anymore. I can't protest. I can't even imagine it with him slipping down my body, sliding his rough dark stubble against my throat, kissing my cleavage as he pulls me down.
When I open my eyes, we're in the sand. Just two moaning shadows, delighting in ourselves with the heat warming us, a delicious contrast with the cool, clean earth underneath our skin.
He's going lower. My fingers grip his shoulders tight, pressing my nails into his skin. Oh, God, he's really going there. He's going to –
“Fuck!” I curse like mad.
That's all I can do when Silas reaches out, grabbing my breasts, plumping them so sweetly in his palm. He's tugging at my bottoms, dragging them down my legs.
I realize a second later he's got them in his teeth. And he's growling, just like a wild animal, a predator who's going to eat me alive.
My ass rises instinctively. He squeezes my breasts tighter, tighter, taking me halfway to the low, full moon hanging over us while my bikini bottom disappears around my ankles.
“Christ, you're wet,” he growls, kissing up my thighs, stopping to inhale my scent. “Can't believe you've waited this long to get licked and sucked. I promise, love, it's all been worth it.”
And it is. The instant I feel his hot breath over my pussy, right before he puts his mouth against it, I know it's true.
At first, he's teasing me. Teasing until I'm soaked, dripping, shaking next to his lips. My fingers push into the sand at my sides, searching for something to hold onto.
But there's nothing except my own ecstasy and the dear, sweet earth once his tongue rolls across my opening.
Holy, holy fuck.
Silas!
There are no words. No expression adequate for the rough, prickly heat coursing through my blood. One of his hands leaves my breast, sinks down, and opens my lower lips. So much better for him to suck, tongue, and fuck me deeper.
He's in my pussy, in my head, maybe even in my heart.
Prince Asshole has become Prince Charming the second the pleasure sets in. Soon, I guess I'll meet Prince Hung, too.
Every lick takes me a little higher. The bastard growls, his animal energy sweeping through me, a feral warning before he finds my clit.
I was on the verge of completely giving it up when he thrust his tongue inside me. Now, I have no choice, not when he sucks my burning nub between his teeth and lashes it a dozen times.
Oh. My. God.
“Silas, no.” I hate myself for giving him what he wants – me, writhing, screaming his name on the beach. “Don't. Stop.”
Trouble is, I love myself, too. Love it for giving in, for letting him push me over the edge, for giving everything over to his mouth. Just the way I imagined last night, when I held his filthy gift between my thighs and came so hard I saw red.
Tonight, I'm blind.
I'm coming so hard I can't breathe, can't move, can't think. The roar of the ocean and the light of the fire, the moon...it
's all gone.
There's just me and the Prince. His fingers are in me, stroking away, hitting some spot that makes me feel like I'm gushing all over his chin. He won't stop licking me, even when it's too much, and my body tries to squirm away.
He growls louder. He holds me down, shoving both hands on my thighs, pushing me deeper into the floury beach. He treats me like what I've become – his Princess with benefits. His wife, his woman, quintessentially and completely his to own any way he wants.
It's scary as hell. Scary, and exciting.
It also makes me come even harder, knowing I'm under his thumb, and loving it. Or is it under his tongue?
I feel like I've been picked up by a tsunami wave and thrown back down again when it's over. He's hovering over me when I open my eyes. I take in his huge, handsome, viciously tattooed chest, rising and falling in shallow, hungry breaths.
“We can fuck, or you can get on your knees and suck my cock. Only reason I'm giving you a choice is because you're a virgin. A fucking virgin.” He growls the last sentence like he can't believe it.
I'm flushed, naked, ready to give it up. My feet dig into the sand and push my hips up into his, feeling his erection.
There. It's true, isn't it?
The interviews I've read with his one night stands weren't lying about his size. I've never been with a man, but I don't need to be to know he's huge.
Ridiculously big. How fitting for a man who walks like he has the biggest, meanest dick in the world to actually have one.
My hand reaches down, trembling as my fingers stop at his trunks. I feel his outline, press my palm against it, and squeeze.
“Fuck! Yeah, love, yeah. Touch it all you want. We can take this slow, let you show me what you've got...”
I don't want him to accommodate me, just because I'm inexperienced. He's been talking about giving back all evening. Maybe it's time for me to do the same.
The fact that he's not a total asshole makes me want to. My spine keeps tingling while I sit up, let him flop back onto the sand, and hold myself over his thighs. He fists his trunks in one hand, jerks them down, and I run my hands along his six pack abs.
