His Majesty (Rough Royals)

by Sara Fields

  He groaned and I knew I was doing a good job. His thrusts became harder and more erratic and I used his thighs to balance myself as I showed him just how sorry I was. I showed him with my mouth that I had learned my lesson as much as I could, and he growled hotly.

  He liked that.

  I liked it too.

  He pushed in and out of my mouth. I swirled my tongue and then I felt him throb hard once and then twice. His grip on the back of my head changed and he pulled back hard. He took his cock in his hand and I gasped, feeling the soreness in my throat from his length. Before I knew what was happening, he roared, and his seed splashed over my face. It was hot and it burned like a brand as it dripped down my cheeks as a mark of shame before his court.

  He’d marked my face with his seed just like I had done to his with his wine.

  And everyone could see every last drop as it covered my face.

  His message wasn’t lost on me.

  One spurt after the next shot onto me and I swallowed my shame as I realized how very much that I was on display at that moment. His orgasm seemed to last forever as his seed marked me and I found myself aroused even though I sincerely didn’t want to be.

  I opened my mouth, tentatively sticking my tongue out and tasting him on my tongue.

  I liked it. I liked it a lot.

  He finally finished and proceeded to tuck his cock away. My arousal ebbed and the burn from the ginger came rushing back.

  I stifled a cry as my hand pressed between my thighs.

  “Give me your hand, baby girl,” he offered softly. I took it, fighting back tears as his seed dried on my face. He pulled me up and laid me over the table. Carefully, he pressed his fingers between my cheeks and pulled the ginger free. I moaned as I clawed at the table, unable to stop my cries from taking over me. A wet cloth swiped between my legs, wiping away the remains of the burning juice. Again and again it cleansed me as I lay on that table, shaking and overwhelmed by everything that had just happened.

  Strong arms surrounded me and lifted me, and I knew I was against his chest. I cried harder and the king’s voice rang out.

  “The show is over, my court. You may stay as long as you like, but I will take my leave so that I may look after my little concubine,” he said loudly, and I curled into him, pressing my cheek into the crook of his shoulder.

  He didn’t spend any time on the court after that. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone, not even the Duchessa Amara on his way out of the dining space. Instead, he just stalked off with me in his arms, holding me as tightly as possible. What surprised me was that I held onto him just as tightly in return.

  Chapter Six

  Matteo Giovanni Santaro

  I wrapped my arms around her tightly, both hating myself and enjoying the feeling of her spent body against mine. I could feel her shaking and I wondered if I had been too harsh, but she had done something that was unforgiveable in the eyes of my people. Had it been anyone else, they would have been publicly made an example of through the use of the dungeons. As king, I had to make decisions sometimes that made the people fear me, even as they loved me all the same.

  Isabella would have been banished, stripped of her titles, and forced to start over somewhere else with no resources whatsoever. She would have been watched for a while to be sure she never spoke of the kingdom and the role I played in society. If she ever opened her mouth about my existence, she would be good as dead, not that anyone would have believed her.

  I remember the first time I saw her on that camera, her eyes full of fire and spunk as she fought off my cousin and I remembered the look of fury and anger as she pushed him and he toppled out of the very window his drunk ass had shot through himself.

  His men hadn’t acted fast enough to save him, but I had acted quickly enough to save her.

  They would have killed her if they had the time. I made the call and I had forbidden it. My word weighed far heavier than his because I was the king and he was simply somewhere down the line to be king in the event of my death.

  I hadn’t been lying when I had told her that I didn’t mourn his death. He would have made a terrible king. He was a scumbag that treated women with contempt, like they were simply playthings for his amusement meant to spread their legs for him whenever he demanded it and when they didn’t, he beat them with his fists. It was disgraceful.

  Fucking asshole. He deserved what he got.

  The moment I’d seen Isabella, I’d wanted her to myself. Those pretty brown eyes, pale skin, and beautiful dark locks were those of an angel’s, and I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms, kiss her softly, and make love to her in my bed.

  And that’s before I even knew who she was. Before I knew of the ancient bloodline surging through her veins.

  Now I wanted her even more for myself.

  I was king. I was used to taking what I wanted, when I wanted. Whomever I wanted.

  And I wanted her.

  She was a strong woman though and that would require some reining in if I wanted to keep her by my side here in my kingdom.

  I hadn’t wanted to punish her so harshly so quickly, but she’d forced my hand because she’d disrespected me in front of my entire court. Her disobedience had been public and if I hadn’t punished her so thoroughly, my subjects would have questioned my role as king, and I couldn’t have that.

  My world was a hard one and sometimes that required hard decisions like the one I had to make tonight.

  My kingdom was one of many throughout the world. In many countries and on every continent aside from Antarctica were men who ruled through money and power and political alliances that went far deeper than the governments that ruled publicly. We were the real kings of the world, only we ruled in secret.

  We reigned behind the scenes and our kingdoms pulled the strings, from political decisions to cultural ones, and even war. The presidents, dictators, and elected officials who led the world were simply placed there so that society thought they had a say in things, to keep them calm and complacent and most important of all, compliant. In every single government on Earth were men and women placed by us to ensure that things ran like they were supposed to.

  I was the reigning king here in Italy. My castle was situated deep in the northern Italian Alps in a place that no one could find unless they already knew exactly where it was. Security was tight and no one left or came in without explicit permission from me.

  I was extremely rich and was one of the most powerful men on the planet. My alliances ran deep, as did the ancient bloodline in my veins that made being king my right. My power exerted far beyond the borders of Italy too. I had agents that influenced much of the world placed in strategic positions in business, travel, entertainment, politics, science, the news media, and even education. I ruled and exerted my power through money and certain favors, along with a healthy dose of fear. I controlled the world behind the scenes, and I did a very good job of it.

  If anyone had the balls to stand against me, I took them down. If I wanted someone dead, it would take less than twenty-four hours. Most times, less than twelve, even if they were halfway around the world.

  My control was made even stronger by the fact that even if someone decided to tell the world that kings were real and that they weren’t a figment of the past, no one would believe them.

  Isabella didn’t know any of this yet, but she would soon. Now was not the time yet though.

  I had just thoroughly punished her and there would be plenty of time in the coming days to explain to her the world she had accidentally stumbled into when she’d met my cousin. I shuddered when I thought about his hands on her and I bit my lip hard as I decided that no other man would ever touch Isabella again.

  She was mine. Eventually, she would come to realize that too.

  She whimpered softly and I held her even tighter, trying not to jostle her as I returned back to my chambers. She didn’t know it, but the room she’d been in today had been mine. She had slept in my bed and I aimed to keep
it that way for many nights to come.

  When I finally reached the bedroom, I flung open the door, closed it and locked it. No one was going to disturb us tonight. I needed to care for the woman who had changed everything.

  Yesterday, my only concern was power and each and every way I could exert my control. Today though, it was different. Today I wanted her.

  Body, mind, and soul.

  And I was going to have her.

  I sat down on the oversized chair in the corner, situating her on my lap. Her body shook and she cried softly.

  “Shhh. It’s over, baby girl. I’m so very proud of you,” I murmured, and she pressed into me. I didn’t care that my seed was still dripping down her face, that it was smearing onto my black suit and making a mess. The only thing that mattered now was her and making sure that she was alright. I would take care of her and give her whatever she wanted. I would spoil her, but I hoped that she had learned that she needed to keep herself composed when we were together in public.

  “It hurts,” she whispered.

  “I know, baby girl. You did so well,” I answered, petting her scalp and running my fingers up and down her back. Gradually, her cries quieted, and her body calmed.

  “I should hate you,” she murmured.

  “I know, baby girl,” I replied.

  “Then why don’t I?” she questioned.

  I didn’t answer.

  For a while longer, she was quiet, processing the events of the entire day. I imagined she’d never met a man like me, one who wouldn’t hesitate to put her over his knee to remind her of her place and to show her that even though she was a strong independent woman, she wasn’t always in control.

  I knew what she was struggling with. She didn’t understand why she wanted it too. She couldn’t explain why her little pussy was soaked every time I spanked her or made her blush or put her on shameful display.

  “Would you like a bath, baby girl?” I asked then.

  She nodded into my shoulder and I lifted her up, walking into the oversized attached bathroom. I started the water and poured in a number of different oils. When it was ready, I sat her carefully on the edge before I removed my own clothes and climbed in with her. She didn’t protest and I was silently proud of her for not fighting me.

  I simply wanted her in my arms. I wanted to hold her tight and let her know that no matter what, I was always going to be there for her.

  I took a washcloth and gently washed my seed from her face. After that, I ran it up and down her body, taking care to not press too hard because I was sure that she was more than sore. She was compliant and when I was done, I wrapped my arms back around her and held her for a while longer.

  “How do you feel, baby girl?” I asked.

  “I feel small. Punished,” she answered. For a moment, she was quiet. “But satisfied,” she added. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

  “I know, sweet girl,” I murmured, brushing wet locks of hair out of her face.

  “I can’t believe you spanked me. Twice,” she said, a bit more boldly now.

  “You were naughty, and in my world, naughty little girls are stripped bare and spanked,” I replied, watching as her cheeks blushed bright red.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed.

  “It isn’t, baby girl, because even though you protest, your pretty little pussy was soaking wet for me, wasn’t it?”

  I took her nipple between my fingers, capturing it in warning as I waited for her response. I tightened my grip just a little as she hesitated to answer. She finally opened her mouth.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” she whimpered. I released her nipple and she sighed with relief.

  “Good girl,” I whispered, and I felt her shiver against me. She liked when I called her that. I’d make a point to remember that too.

  I gently finished bathing her. I shampooed and conditioned her beautiful hair and when I was done, I quickly washed myself before picking her up and wrapping her gently in an oversized towel. I grabbed one myself and pulled her back into my arms. She didn’t protest as I strode back over to the bed. I dried her off gently, then myself, before I tucked her under the covers with me.

  “I don’t want to go to bed,” she protested, but even as she did, she fought off a yawn. I knew what she was doing. She felt like she needed to fight me at least a little and I would allow that when she was here with me alone.

  “It’s time for you to get some rest, baby girl. You’re going to go to bed for me because you need it and I decided that you should. Do you understand?” I pressed.

  “But—” she started, and I cut her off.

  “If you don’t at least close your eyes and try, you’re going to get another spanking in the morning when we wake, do you want that?”

  “No,” she answered quietly.

  “Then close your eyes and try for me, baby girl,” I coaxed.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” she answered. She finally obeyed and closed her eyes.

  I kissed the top of her head, feeling her muscles relax just as exhaustion took over. She was probably already asleep.

  “I’ve looked for you a very long time, princess. I’m so glad that I finally found you,” I whispered.

  One day, I would tell her the truth about who she was. Maybe tomorrow or someday soon.

  Then she would truly understand why I’d rescued her, and why I wanted to make her mine.

  Chapter Seven

  Isabella De Luca

  When I woke the next morning, it felt as though I had run a marathon. Every muscle in my body was sore and as I groaned softly, a strong arm curled around my waist. I could feel his callused hands and I wondered what would cause a man of such nobility to develop such roughness. His touch seemed possessive yet oddly comforting and for several long moments, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

  When I tried to move away eventually, he wouldn’t let me. Instead, his grip tightened as his palm brushed across my lower belly. He cupped my freshly shaven mound, still tender from being used and punished so thoroughly the day before. I didn’t know if he was warning me or just wanted to touch me, but I stopped fighting because I didn’t want to find out.

  “You fit so perfectly against me like this, baby girl,” he murmured, and my heart flittered in my chest.

  “You’re not half bad yourself,” I teased.

  “Sassy girl,” he replied. His palm squeezed my pussy lightly, but it didn’t hurt. In fact, I kind of liked it because it made me feel like he owned it.

  “I have my moments,” I said, wiggling my bottom just a little against him. He was just as naked as I was, and I could feel his cock nestled against my backside.

  “Indeed, you do,” he whispered, and I felt his lips press against the back of my scalp in a soft kiss.

  “You aren’t going to punish me for being sassy?” I asked.

  “No. Not today. Sometimes I might. Other times I won’t, but remember the possibility is always there, baby girl, and do you know why?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answered.

  He slid his fingers between my legs.

  “Because it makes you wet knowing that, doesn’t it?” he whispered, his voice husky and seductive as his lips brushed gently against my ear. He found my clit with his finger and circled around it, pressing lightly enough so that I moaned quietly for him.

  “Perhaps,” I replied, unable to stop myself from sighing as I melted into his touch.

  He pinched my clit gently in retribution and I gasped at the slight hint of pain. He returned to touching me lightly, teasing my clit with the flats of his fingers until I was shivering with his touch.

  I almost wondered if he was the same man I had met yesterday.

  He was being so gentle. I knew he could be cruel and punishing, but this tenderness was new to me. I lay back against him, remembering the sad look in his eyes after I had thrown my glass of wine in his face. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to deal with me so harshly? Maybe he preferred mornings like this?

  He’d
been so caring when he bathed me last night, clearly trying to be gentle when he cleaned me with the soft washcloth. He had varied the pressure on my sore muscles, but he had been more than careful when he was between my legs as he had washed me. I squeezed my thighs together, thinking about his cock between them. He’d broken me once over the windowsill in this very room and again in the dining hall before his court, but this morning, he was holding me as though I was his lover and not just a random woman in his bed.

  And then, last night before we had gone to sleep, he’d tucked his warm body around me and offered the protection of his strength. He’d said something else too. I furrowed my brow as I tried to remember. I’d been so worn out that it felt like a dream, but I could have sworn that he’d called me a princess or something along those lines.

  I chewed my lip. Princess meant something here, didn’t it?

  “You didn’t like that I called you my concubine last night, did you, baby girl? Be honest with me. You won’t ever be punished for telling me the truth,” he urged quietly.

  I worried my lip a bit more before curling back a little, focusing on the soothing feeling of his body surrounding mine. He was so big and I was so small, and right now, that made me feel like a little girl. It made me happy.

  “I didn’t like it. I don’t want to be known as your whore. That’s not me,” I whispered finally, and his chin nodded against my shoulder.

  “What if I called you something different before my court? Would you prefer to be referred to as my lover instead?”

  I mulled it over before I decided that I felt that was acceptable.

  “That would be better,” I answered.

  “Then it will be so. You have my word, sweet girl,” he replied as he kissed the place behind my ear, causing a shiver of arousal to race down my spine.