Brice
My wife-to-be tastes as sweet as she smells. I don’t want to remove my mouth from hers, but time is not on our side.
I kiss her all the way through the sitting room and into my bedroom. I glance over her shoulder at my bed with its crisp and clean sheets and smirk. Knowing that they’re about to be tousled and soiled. I look at her, really look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips are ravished, and her eyes so full of longing that I know I need not ask what I’m about to ask but must. Just to be sure.
‘Is this really what you want?’
She gulps and looks over her shoulder before returning her smouldering gaze to me. ‘Not a doubt in my mind.’
I swell with desire and rake my eyes up and down her body. Her firm breasts rise and fall beneath the silk of her undergarment. One of her nipples, deep brown and swollen with excitement, is clear through the damp patch where my mouth clamped down on her moments before. She seems appreciative of my admiration of her.
‘Would you like to see more?’ She rasps and I nod.
She keeps her eyes locked on me as she reaches behind her back. She unzips her restrictive skirt, lets it drop to the floor, and kicks it to one side. My dick twitches at the sight of her standing before me wearing nothing but a camisole and panties scandalously small for a princess
‘Don’t stop there,’ I instruct. ‘I want to see it all.’
She giggles, the sound is so cute it knots my stomach. ‘Anything for His Royal Highness.’
She hooks her fingers under the hem of her camisole and with the look of a seasoned seductress lighting up her face she unpeels it from her body inch by inch. At an agonisingly slow pace she reveals her stomach, tight and toned with a delectable freckle just above her belly button, the material slides up her milky flesh until the swell of her pert breasts are revealed. My breathing labours when she slips it over her head and her hair tumbles back around her shoulders. For a moment I wonder if she’s not quite as innocent as I think she is. But when she hooks her thumbs into the delicate fabric of her knickers the quiver in her fingers convinces me that she is and I am about to become the first man to explore the most precious part of her body. She lowers the underwear at the same excruciating speed she stripped off the camisole, revealing a perfect mass of soft chestnut hair. I lick my lips in anticipation.
‘Well,’ she purrs. ‘Are you going to keep your princess waiting all day?’
‘No I am bloody not.’ I snarl and rip my trousers off in one impatient motion. She gasps when my cock springs free and I lunge toward her sending us both hurtling onto the bed. Instinctively her legs wrap around my body. The wetness of her presses against my shaft. I want to plunge into her depths straight away but can’t because I have a favour to return. ‘Patience, my precious, patience.’ I whisper and begin my descent.
I kiss her delicate neck and she squirms, arching her back she thrusts her chest upwards. Out of the corner of my eye I see her delicate nails clutch at the bedsheets. I lick the velvety skin of her chest until I find one of her engorged nipples. I tease it with the tip of my tongue first, almost sending her flying from the bed, and take it into my mouth. I tug at the chocolate brown bud with my teeth and she meows. Every noise she makes prickles my senses. She’s perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. I lap and suck at her breast. Nuzzle into the soft mound. Claim it for my own. In every move she makes she’s begging for more. And more she shall have. I crawl down the bed. Lower and lower until my mouth makes contact with that sexy little freckle. She squirms and writhes as I pause at her stomach teasing her with what is about to happen. Her desperation builds with every butterfly kiss I place on her until finally I slide off the bed and kneel before her. I prize open her thighs with my palms, opening her up for me. Her folds are just as perfect as the rest of her. Wet and exposed she juts her hips and pleads for me to do something, anything. So I do. I trace the length of her folds with my tongue and she goes wild. I take my cock in hand and stroke the length while I lick again. She tastes divine. Tangy and sweet. And as my tongue explores every part of her hidden depths her thighs clamp against my ears. Pinning me in place. When I lap against her clit she howls and clamps harder. Her nails claw at the back of my neck, spurring me on. I bathe her sensitive nub with my tongue. Lapping furiously until my tongue takes on a life of its own. My mouth fights to keep a grip of her pussy as she jerks and thrashes and I know that she’s close to climax.
‘Don’t stop,’ she pleads. ‘You’re… I’m…’
There’s no way I can stop. I suck and I lick and I suck and I nibble and I suck and I lick until a guttural roar escapes her pretty little mouth. Until her agile body convulses and her juices flow into my mouth, spill onto my face, and drench my chin. I don’t stop until her convulses slow to a twitch and she collapses into a heap on my not quite so crisp and clean bedsheets. I wait until her sex stops clenching then I stand and admire the sight before me. Her hair, which not so long ago was trussed back into a stuffy up-do, is dishevelled and wild. She’s panting like she just ran a marathon but far from looking exhausted a faint smile dances on her pretty lips. I could drink in the spectacle of her all afternoon but we don’t have all afternoon. We have mere minutes. If we’re lucky.
Chapter Seven
Madeline
I’m aware that he’s looking at me and I’m aware that I’m exposed to him and I should behave more demurely by at least attempting to cover myself up. I’m also aware that time is of the essence, but I’m lost. Lost to the plush bedsheets nurturing my burning skin. Lost to the sensations still tickling me from head to toe and lost to the glorious sensation his mouth has left between my legs.
‘That was out of this world,’ I slur like a drunken harlot. I’m a wanton woman and it feels terrific. Far better than the glimpse I experienced last night in that dark and dank pub yard.
He laughs and crawls back onto the bed. Heat radiates from him as he comes to rest on top of my heaving chest. He’s between my legs, the tip of his manhood juts against my drenched core. I gyrate my hips. Urging him in.
‘We have little time, my love.’ His breath is warm against my ear. ‘It can wait until we can savour the moment. We are engaged to be married and have all the time in the world.’
I shake my head and glide my hands down his athletic back and dig my nails into his bottom. ‘No, this can’t wait. I need you to take me now. Not tomorrow. Not our wedding day. Now.’
He kisses me tenderly on my lips, my nose, my forehead then gathers me into a tight embrace. The round head of his manhood presses against my folds. It feels huge against my sensitive sex. Much bigger than it felt when I took it in my mouth. I take a deep breath to prepare myself for what is about to happen. I’ve heard it hurts. I’ve heard men can be unforgiving. I’ve heard I’ll bleed. Fear grips my stomach and he must sense my apprehension because he pauses.
‘Don’t worry, Madeline,’ he whispers, my name sounds like a musical note tumbling from his lips. ‘I’ll be good to you, my love. I promise.’
I swallow my trepidation. ‘I know you will.’
He lines his length up with my core again. I close my eyes and breathe deep, allowing relaxation to wash over me. I spread my knees, open myself up for him, and grant my prince all the access he needs. His strong hand closes around mine and holds it tight, a reassurance that he’ll be everything that I need him to be. His heat probes further and I gasp when a tiny little sting surprises me. He stops and I raise my face to his. His eyes are etched with concern but it was fleeting and the pain is no more so I nod my encouragement. Inch by inch he enters me. Pausing all the time so I can adjust to the sensation of having him inside. My body welcomes him. It stretches and adjusts until finally, he’s all the way in. Filling my core. My hips move, encouraging him to join the sensual dance. And he does. Our bodies glide together, slick with perspiration, and with every move my body eases into him. Pressure builds from somewhere deep within my core and animalistic desperation takes hold of me. ‘Faster, Brice.’ I rasp
. Instantly he picks up the pace, and the pressure grows. More and more and more. He grunts and growls as he thrusts deeper and harder. The sound of our flesh clashing reverberates around the room and I get wetter and wetter with every fevered thrust. The pressure inside grows until it hits a pinnacle and white lights flash before my eyes as once again powerful convulsions take over my body. My nails dig into his ass, which is grinding for all its worth. Tensing and flexing as he fucks me. My insides clamp against the enormity of him and it’s impossible to hold back. An earth-shattering wail erupts from my core as I come again. It’s too much for him and he thrusts one final time before hollering to the heavens, spilling his hot seed deep inside me. He collapses with exhaustion, his heart beats in time with mine and together we descend back down to earth. Our sweat easing the friction of our heaving chests as we pant like animals. Silently, we gather our thoughts and try to remember how to function like normal human beings. I want to talk. To express how I feel. To ask how he feels. But my tongue is tied. Instead I stroke his sweat-soaked back, trailing my nails all the way up to the nape of his neck and back down again to the delectable curve of his lower back. He shivers and grips my other hand tighter. I realise then that he never let go. Not once. The entire time he kept hold of my hand. Making sure that I was ok. My heart swells with love and I blink back tears.
‘Hey, hey,’ he says, rolling to my side. ‘Are you OK? Did I hurt you?’
I try to swallow the lump in my throat to clear my voice box so I can tell him that far from hurting me he just made me the happiest woman in the world but I still can’t speak so I shake my head and snuggle into the crook of his arm. He kisses the top of my head, his lips linger there. Consoling me. Reaffirming what I already know. That this, all of this, means the world to him.
‘I’m sorry to have to break the spell, but we really need to move,’ he says.
I nod knowingly. Somehow, we must return to the others and look normal. Like we didn’t just do the one thing they’ve told me not to do until my wedding night. I wonder if they’ll figure it out? I wonder if they’ll smell it. I wonder if I’ll look different. If he’ll look different. He already looks different to me.
‘Come on, princess.’ He nudges me in the ribs and we both sit upright. ‘As much as I don’t want to go anywhere we must.’
‘I know,’ I say regrettably. ‘I know we must.’
‘I’ll grab you a drink and give you five minutes to pull yourself together but I’m not going anywhere, ok. I’ll be right there, the other side of the door, waiting for you.’
He kisses me one last time and I watch him walk out of the room. I want to lie back down and sleep in his bed. To never leave his bed. But he’s right. We must. We’ve already been gone too long, so with heavy limbs I gather my things and begin the mammoth task of making myself look presentable again.
Brice
My legs are weak as I stagger out of the bedroom and close the door behind me. The clock on my wall tells me we’ve been gone for three-quarters of an hour. Too long. People will search for us if we don’t get back soon. I stroll to my private kitchen, smiling at the discarded tie and Madeline’s jacket sitting in a heap on the floor. It probably costs a fortune. Everything she wore here today is top quality, carefully selected to present her to me as the perfect suiter for the next king of Marea. Respectable and virginal. If only they knew. I reach for a glass, fill it with cold water and down it in one before refilling it for her. I’m certain that she won’t mind sharing a glass after everything else that we just shared. I place it on a side table before walking into my dressing room to select a fresh suit. They’re all near enough identical, so I’m sure nobody will notice. It’s Madeline I feel for. The poor woman has to make sure her clothes are straight, her hair is preened, what’s left of her make-up isn’t spread across her face. I hum a happy tune as I select one of my many shirts and slip it onto my shoulders. They’ll hurt tomorrow for sure. Along with every other muscle in my body that worked in unison to ravish the woman of my dreams. No gym session is necessary for me today. It’s when I’m zipping up my trousers I hear it. It’s such a bolt out of the blue that I’m not sure I’m correct. Then it happens again. A thunderous bang on the door to my private quarters.
‘Shit!’ I blurt out. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’
I slide my feet into the closest shoes and rush toward the door, running my fingers through my hair to straighten it, but I’m too late. The door bursts open and in spills a dozen of both mine and Madeline’s security team, my mother and father, followed closely by Queen and King Lottisham, Madeline’s lady-in-waiting, my brother Magnus and behind him my other two brothers, Drake and Felix. It’s truly an ambush of the worst kind.
‘Where is she?’ King Lottisham booms. ‘Madeline, get out here now.’
My first instinct is to deny all knowledge. ‘I do not understand what you are talking about Your Highness. I am here alone. I spilt some wine down my shirt so came to change.’
Everybody’s eyes simultaneously fall to Madeline’s blue jacket.
‘Liar,’ he shouts. ‘Search his rooms.’ The security team instantly jumps to action. Separating, they each venture to a different corner of my quarters.
‘Oh, Brice,’ Mother cries. ‘Please tell me it’s not true?’ She seeks sanctuary in my Fathers embrace and erupts into a flood of tears. Guilt tugs at my gut. I’ve never witnessed my mother display such raw emotion in front of other people before.
In the corner of my eye I spot one of the security detail place a hand on my bedroom door and panic. ‘No, not in there.’ I step forward holding my hand up to halt his entrance. Madeline has had no time to make herself presentable. It’s bad enough that she’s about to be caught in the bedroom of a man not yet her husband. It would be devastating for her if she was discovered partially clothed. ‘I left in a hurry earlier and I’m not sure that I left the room in a fit state.’
The excuse is pathetic. I know it. The guy with his hand on the doorknob knows it. Everybody knows it.
‘Open the door.’ King Lottisham demands.
But there is no need because the door opens by itself. Standing on the other side with her tousled hair still tumbling about her shoulders and a pillow against her chest hiding her flimsy camisole from view is Madeline. She’s crying. I want to scoop her up in my arms and take her away, far away, far away from all the judgemental eyes searing into her.
Mother falls into a deeper pit of despair. Father swears and curses my name. My brothers snigger amongst themselves, Queen Lottisham stands tall, disgust splashed all over her face and King Lottisham is turning an extremely unhealthy shade of red.
I take a step towards Madeline but she holds out her hand to stop me. ‘Mother, Father,’ she says with more confidence in her voice than I would have imagined she could summon in such a humiliating scenario. ‘I know what this looks like but I can explain.’
‘I have no time for your words you… you… you…’
Lucky for him he can’t bring himself to call her whatever evil word is stuck in his mouth because, king or no king, if he dares to call my precious Madeline anything derogatory I swear I’ll rip his tongue clear from his head.
‘King Lottisham, Sir.’ I step towards him and am immediately flanked by his security team. ‘Your daughter is innocent in this. It’s my fault entirely. I lead her here under false pretences and seduced her. Please do not blame Princess Madeline. The blame should rest squarely on my shoulders, Sir.’
He’s glaring at me. Even under his chunky cheeks and snow-white beard, I can see his jaw twitch with irritation. ‘Don’t think, even for a second, I place the blame anywhere but at your feet.’
Madeline cries out and runs to my side. She hooks her arm through mine. ‘That’s not true at all, Daddy. I was fully complicit. I knew exactly why I was coming to Prince Brice’s quarters and I was the one who set the entire thing in motion. Please don’t blame him, Daddy. It was me. It was us. We… we… we love each other.’
King Lot
tisham guffawed. ‘Love? Child? You do not understand what love is. But I can tell you one thing for certain. It’s not this.’ His eyes scan the length of her. ‘Put your clothes on, Madeline. You are coming home with us.’
Madeline looks up at me apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Brice. This is my fault.’
‘Shush, darling.’ I cup her face with my hand. ‘This is not your fault. Never believe for a second that this is your fault.’
Her mother has collected her jacket and thrusts it into her with force. ‘Put this on. Now. You have humiliated all of us. There can be no marriage.’
Madeline takes a sharp intake of breath and looks to me for answers. I encourage her to leave. Time is needed to heal the situation. Time and talking. Nobody will say anything sensible under such a heated situation.
Her mother takes her by the arm and leads her away, followed by Madeline’s lady-in-waiting and their security team.
Impulsive Price Page 4
