Crown Me, Prince

by Frankie Love

  He’s right; it’s all I want. He presses deep inside me, and a perfect pain ripples through my core, in the best possible way. I inhale, hot air filling my lungs, and I am complete for the first time in my life.

  My whole body is awake. Every fiber of my being is giving in to this. He has one hand across my chest holding my bouncing tits in place as he pounds against my ass.

  He is so deep in me. His cock is so big, so hard. So mine.

  I want him to come in me, deep and hard. I’m glad we’re fucking this way, because I didn’t want to use a condom with him. I wanted to be filled with his seed.

  And now I am.

  Now.

  I am.

  “This is everything,” I whimper. Our bodies are puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly. He holds me close to him as he comes, and the warm cream crashes into me.

  I don’t want the shockwaves to stop; I want this pulsing magic to surge through me forever.

  He comes, and we’re undone.

  He comes, and we’re put back together.

  Chapter 16

  After, we walk into the chalet. The only sound is our feet. Our breathing has slowed, and our hands are still clasped. Our hearts are entwined.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, I love this woman. I am ready to commit my life to her—and tomorrow night we’ll walk down the aisle, and I’ll reveal the truth to her, offering her what I hope will be the happiest surprise of her life

  We fall asleep, her on the couch wrapped in a blanket, me on the floor on a makeshift mattress of quilts. I kiss her palm as her eyes flutter close.

  “Thank you, Dahlia,” I whisper into the night. “Thank you for this fantasy.”

  She’s already asleep, exhausted by the emotional day full of firsts. Our bodies are worn, used in the most sensational ways.

  I fall asleep, ready for the day ahead, knowing I have some calls to make as soon as I return to the palace.

  The next morning, we’re greeted by a humming Gladys. She’s in the kitchen brewing coffee, but since the cabin is small she’s just steps from us.

  “The princess sleep well?” she asks.

  Dahlia stands up from the couch, stretching. “I slept wonderfully, Gladys,” she says, her eyes meeting mine, stealing a glance at me. Quickly though, she averts her eyes, not even offering me a morning hello. Instead, she’s all business. “Thomas, do I have time to shower before the Royal Guard arrives?”

  “Yes, though I’ll go out to the SUV right now and make a call on the radio to confirm they are on their way.”

  Reggie walks out of the bedroom at the tail end of the conversation. “I’ll trek out with you, Thomas, and have a look at things in the light of day.”

  Still dressed in the uniform I slept in, I take a mug of coffee from Gladys. Reggie takes one, too, and we make our way outside as Dahlia slips into the bathroom without a backward glance.

  My jaw tenses, realizing she’s probably protecting herself from the reality she’s facing. Saying good-bye to Thomas, a man she’s grown to care for.

  “I’m guessing everyone is busy at the palace today, with the royal wedding,” Reggie says as we cross the deep snow, holding the steaming mugs of coffee in our hands. Anyone who has grown up in Rochester can manage walking through snow without injury, and certainly without spilling coffee.

  “I’m sure you’re right. Hopefully the Guard can make it down the mountain quickly to retrieve the princess.”

  I have never been so anxious to return home as I am right now.

  When we get to the Land Rover, I use my radio to call Thomas. He picks up the signal right away.

  “We’re ready when you are,” I tell him. “We had company last night.” I try to be discreet, knowing Reggie is listening. “The cabin owners arrived and met the princess. They were a bit disappointed the prince wasn’t with us.”

  Thomas seems to pick up on my tone, and I’m grateful we’ve been friends for so long. “Roger that, Thomas,” he replies. “Should I bring anything specifically?”

  “Just get here as soon as you can, I have an urgent matter to attend to at the castle.”

  When I return to the cabin, Gladys explains that their little old cell phone managed to get a signal for just a moment.

  “The princess asked if I had a phone, and thankfully mine worked. Of course the signal dropped. She went outside trying to get a stronger signal, but it didn’t last for more than a minute or two.”

  “Who were you calling?” I ask Dahlia, who appears freshly-showered. Her hair is wet, and I hope it dries before she has to trek to the SUV, since it’s so frigid. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

  “I was calling my sister, Iris.” She smiles at Gladys and Reggie. “Iris just married Prince Garrick of Alpinweiss.”

  “Oh, we know all about that,” Gladys says, filling her coffee. “Your darling country of Elexia has become quite the sensation in the headlines. Three royal matches all at once. You are the three luckiest princesses in the world.”

  “Right,” she says softly. “I’m so lucky.” She blinks quickly, and Gladys must notice, because she pats Dahlia on the hand.

  “Oh, darling, marriage is a big leap—even for a princess, I must imagine.”

  “It is quite a lot to take on.” Dahlia attempts a smile. She’s in her wool dress from yesterday, and once again looks the part of a princess. “Tell me,” she asks. “How did you and Reggie meet?”

  “It was love at first sight. I know people say it’s not real, that no one can fall in love like that, but it was. We met on a ski lift thirty-five years ago, and after two days we married. Sometimes you just know.”

  “I believe that sort of love is real,” Dahlia says.

  “You’re a romantic, too?”

  She shrugs, tucking her hair behind her ears, her pearl earring gleaming in the morning light. “I don’t know about that. I’ve just always believed in magic.”

  She looks at me then, and smiles—the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. The smile of a girl with a broken heart.

  I wish I could make it right, this very moment—that I could steal her away and speak to her privately, and tell her that I’m hers.

  But there isn’t time. Reggie is hollering from the doorway.

  “You and Reggie are invited to the palace at seven o’clock this evening for the royal wedding,” I tell Gladys. “When I spoke to the prince on the radio he insisted that I extend the invite.”

  Gladys covers her mouth as she gasps. “Oh, my! That is much too generous.”

  “No,” I insist. “You gave shelter to the princess, and it is his wish to thank you in person. Will the Sno-cat be able to transport you?”

  Reggie nods. “It certainly will.”

  “Wonderful,” I tell them. “The palace will be expecting you.”

  We can hear that the Guard has arrived. A helicopter’s blades beat wildly outside. We rush out of the cabin, covering our ears at the noise.

  It doesn’t bother to attempt a landing in this thick snow; instead, a ladder is dropped down, and Dahlia and I have no choice but to climb.

  She wraps her arms around Gladys, then around Reggie, thanking them profusely for their hospitality.

  “Congratulations, Princess,” Gladys screams over the noise, beaming at the Princess of Rochester. “May you find what I found!”

  As Dahlia boldly steps onto the waving ladder, with me directly being her, refusing to let go, I hear her words whipping in the wind, and I know the older woman has no chance in hearing her.

  But I hear the words. Loud and clear.

  “I already have, Gladys. I already have.”

  Chapter 17

  Once I’m in the helicopter I put on a headset that muffles the noise. I can’t hear anything anyone else is saying, but that’s a small price to pay to escape the sound of the rotors.

  The flight is short. We lift high into the sky, and I look out the window, saying good-bye to the shortest-lived happily ever after in history. The cabin grows smaller
and smaller as we climb higher in altitude, until it’s nothing but a dot.

  Until it’s nothing at all.

  That chapter is over. I can’t bear to look at Thomas—so I look ahead instead.

  Rochester is grander than I ever expected. The palace looks like the photographs I saw, but somehow more stunning. The white columns spear high into the sky. The entire castle perched on the edge of a mountain, and it would seem precarious if it weren’t so clearly rooted in place.

  My husband is inside that palace.

  Has he waited anxiously for me?

  I want to know, but I also wish I’d had more time with Thomas.

  The moment the helicopter lands, I’m whisked away into private chamber. Thomas and I don’t even have a chance to say good-bye.

  That’s for the best. What would we say, anyway?

  In the chamber, a staff member in a starched black dress and white apron offers me tea and biscuits with stiff formality.

  “Is the prince on his way to see me?” I ask.

  The woman quickly hides her look of surprise, but all she says is, “A bride and groom can’t see one another on their wedding day.”

  “Certainly there can be exceptions made?”

  She looks befuddled. “There already has been.” She swings open an armoire. “Your attendant will be here shortly, as well as a hair and makeup stylist. The ceremony is not until late this evening—seven o’clock—but you’ll be busy until then getting ready for your day.”

  “I need ten hours?”

  “I just pass along the information. I don’t make the rules.”

  “Of course not,” I say, flustered. I’m caught off guard at the distance between the Prince and me—but then I remember that Iris told me she had the same experience in Alpinweiss. The moment she landed there, she went straight to the chapel to marry Garrick.

  The morning passes quickly. My nails are polished, my legs waxed, my hair expertly piled atop my head—all by professionals who whisked in with their entourages, ready to make me into something memorable. The entire time, I’m offered glasses of champagne and tiny bites of food. But all the caviar in the world can’t take away the gnawing in the pit of my stomach.

  This is not how I wanted my wedding day to go—so utterly alone. The stylists don’t say a word to me, as if they’re scared I might bite or break. They smile, are polite, but don’t engage with me. When I try to ask about life here in Rochester, they answer with brevity and diplomacy.

  I decide to keep my mouth shut, realizing I have literally zero experience with hired help. Maybe engaging with them like friends is the wrong approach.

  I feel the class difference in a dramatic and immediate way. I’ve never experienced such a reality.

  But none of that compares to the real reason I want to curl up in a ball and hide in the massive walk-in closet.

  The truth is, I can’t believe that Thomas and I shared so much, only for me to walk away from it. To not fight for something. Anything. Us.

  “Don’t you start crying, Princess,” says Meredith, the makeup girl. She blots the tears from under my eyes. “I just did your lids, and you’ll mess it all up.”

  “Sorry,” I tell her, blinking so rapidly I’m scared my lash extensions are going to fall off.

  “It’s okay, Princess,” she says. “I’m surprised you’re crying, though.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re marrying Prince Lucas,” she whispers breathlessly. “Every woman in the kingdom envies you. You’ll be Queen.”

  I swallow. “Right. Queen.”

  “I’d give anything to have my man marry me. But Thomas just avoids the conversation any time I mention it.”

  At the name Thomas my stomach clenches.

  The hair stylist laughs at Meredith’s comments. “Oh, my gosh. I know, right? My boyfriend and I have been together two years and still no ring.”

  “Thomas and I have been together longer than that. We’ve been dating ever since he became Prince Lucas’s bodyguard. That’s over four years.”

  My eyes dart between the two women, my heart pounding. Did I just sleep with a man who cheated on his girlfriend? His girlfriend of four years?

  I’m unable to speak, not trusting myself with words.

  Meredith holds the mascara wand and whispers to the woman, “You wanna know a cross-your-heart secret?”

  The hairstylist nods, and I watch them in the mirror as Meredith leans over and whispers: “I’m pregnant. Only four weeks along, but I haven’t told Thomas yet. I was waiting until after the wedding and things with his job calmed down a bit.”

  The hair stylist shoves her gently. “Girl! You’ve got to tell him.”

  Meredith smiles, shaking her head. “I’m going to, of course. Maybe this weekend.”

  I start hyperventilating, and stand, walking quickly away from the women. They look at me with concern.

  “Are you all right Princess?” Meredith asks.

  “All right?” I manage. “Um. I need a phone. I need to call my sisters.”

  Before I can even dial a number—my hands are so shaky at this point it’s impossible—the door to my suite swings open. For a moment I think it might be the prince, wanting to see his bride before his wedding, but then I see an even more amazing entrance.

  My sisters.

  Iris and Violet run to me, arms open, and the three of us embrace.

  “What in the world?” My jaw is dropped, and I shake my head in shock. “How did this ... aren’t you in Machu Picchu on your honeymoon?”

  “Darling, your call this morning freaked me out,” Iris says, her arms still around me. “And so of course I called Violet the moment I got into town. Granted, it took me an hour or two to trek from our campground. And what do you know—before I even placed the call, Prince Lucas had called Violet.”

  “He called you?” I turn to Violet, who beams at me.

  “He asked if we’d fly here immediately. Hunter and I dropped our plans and boarded the plane. Iris and Garrick were able to get on a jet—which is twice as fast—and even Father got a flight from Elexia. He’ll be here shortly.”

  “Why did he call? I haven’t even met the prince.”

  “He said he felt you might want us here,” Iris said. “And that, combined with your call this morning … I knew we needed to get here.”

  “Iris filled me in,” Violet says, looking over at Meredith and the hairstylist, who stand listening with a powder brush and hairpins in hand. “Excuse us, love,” Violet says. “But we need some privacy. Sister time?” She ushers them from the suite, and locks the door behind her, taking charge like she always does. “Dahlia, you called Iris saying you were in love with someone else. Is that true?”

  I can’t hold back my tears any longer. Screw the makeup. Screw love. What a freaking joke.

  I am such a fool.

  “The bodyguard who picked me up when I arrived, Thomas ... we ... we ... fell in love. But it turns out he has a girlfriend. A pregnant girlfriend!”

  Iris covers her mouth. Then, regaining her composure, she sits on the bed, pats the space beside her, and says, “Tell me everything.”

  I recount the situation for my sister—how Thomas and I had instantly found a connection ... more than a connection. How we had found a way into one another’s hearts. I admitted my desire to wanting to give my body to someone who wanted me with no strings attached, and how Thomas was my fantasy come to life.

  And then what I just learned from Meredith. How I’m a fool.

  Everyone always thought I was naive, and clearly they were right.

  “But Dahlia, you must have known how this would end,” Violet says, her eyes heavy.

  “Of course I knew. But I thought Thomas was special. He’s everything I ever imagined a man to be. And it kills me, because I know he can’t be mine.”

  Iris sighs, her lips twisting. “I’m so sorry, sister.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to marry a man the same day my heart is broken.”


  “I was scared about marrying Hunter, but he turned out to be everything I ever wanted. Maybe Lucas will be the prince you’ve been dreaming of.”

  “I thought Thomas loved me. I can’t believe he’d do that to his girlfriend. I’m a cheater.”

  “No,” Iris shushes me, wrapping her arms around me. “You were just confused.”

  I weep in her arms, knowing I wasn’t confused. Knowing it was love.

  “I think you just need to put on your gown, and walk down the aisle, and put the last twenty-four hours behind you.” Violet squeezes my hand.

  “Why are you both being so supportive? I mean, I know you’re my sisters—but Violet, propriety has always been your mode of operation. Aren’t you scandalized by me?”

  “I’m not scandalized. I just want you to be happy.”

  “You think I might be happy with Lucas, a man I’ve never met?”

  Violet smiles, her eyes brimming with tears. “I met Hunter and found my soul mate. Now I believe in fairy tales, in dreams come true, and all that stuff you always talked about. I believe in it because I found my happily ever after. I want you to find yours, too.”

  Iris, smiles. “And after the wedding we’re going to have Hunter and Garrick discreetly kick this bodyguard’s ass.”

  I try to laugh through my tears. “You can’t do that. If the prince finds out what I did … he won’t want to marry me.”

  “Dahlia, that isn’t true. This isn’t some backwards country like Alpinweiss. You can hold your head up high, knowing you followed your heart last night.”

  My sisters pull me into a hug as the suite’s door swings open.

  “The ceremony is set to start in less than half an hour,” Meredith declares, coming back into the room. I can’t bear to look into her eyes, and my sisters seem to understand. The entourage that’s been in and out all day comes in and offers me a distraction. The white wedding gown is whisked in, billowing satin and tulle.

  I look at my sisters; they nod encouragingly.

  “What if he doesn’t love me?” I ask them. “Like Garrick and Hunter love you?”