My Stepbrother, His Highness: A Royal Stepbrother Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Victoria Cabot

  Fuck the filter, just tell him how you feel!

  “Because you’re so beautiful,” I said crying out, my face contorting in sadness. “And kind. And gentle. And considerate.” I thought back to the other night, when the guy who gave me rent for sex brought me to the edge of blissful oblivion so many times but didn’t come himself, all to make me happy.

  “Uhmm,” Tristan said aloud, listening to my words but unable to hear my thoughts. “That makes me an axe murderer?”

  “No, you idiot,” I wailed. My vision became blurred with tears. “There’s no reason someone like you should be single. But you are. And that makes you too good to be true.”

  He remained silent as I continued. “And then I find this,” I held up the newspaper. “This was your family. And you didn’t even tell me about it. What else did you hide?”

  “So you went sneaking through my stuff?” a flash of anger colored his words.

  “Well, you’re always so damned neutral!”

  “I’m not exactly Mr. Sunshine normally, but having you around has definitely lifted my spirits, Alicia,” he said out loud, as if explaining.

  “But why can’t you tell me about it?”

  A pained look went through his face briefly. But then it was replaced with the face of stone. “My wife is my business,” he said simply.

  “Not if I’m in your life!”

  “All you do is share an apartment with me!” he was heated.

  “Is that all?” I asked him getting up. “You want me out of your life?”

  A range of emotions finally flickered through Mr. Stone Face and I finally saw something I never thought I would ever see. I saw him crack.

  “If you leave, then it’ll be just the same thing that’s happened to me for the last several years, although this time, Alicia, I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

  I sat silent, wondering if I had gone too far.

  Yes, you did.

  But Tristan was finally talking.

  “What was I supposed to tell you?” he asked, taking a step close to me and taking the newspaper article, a grimace of disgust forming in his face. But that disgust wasn’t towards me, but rather towards himself. “Talk about how I was married off when I was eighteen years old to a woman I didn’t know and didn’t love?”

  I remained silent. “Talk about how I never loved her, even when we had a baby?

  “About how I busied myself with ‘royal duties’ and travelled the world, leaving them to their own devices. About how Nadia called me the morning she died, telling me she was heading to the airport with my daughter and she was serving me with divorce papers when the bombs went off. Tell you about how if it wasn’t for my selfish ways, they wouldn’t be heading to the airport and probably still be alive now? That I basically sentenced someone else to misery and then death? ”

  “What happened to the Separatists?” I asked.

  He laughed sardonically. “Why do you think I came over personally to tell you not to work at Carter Jeffries?” My eyes went wide as he expanded on that question. “They are the number one supplier of guns and weapons and money laundering to that group. If it weren’t for them, then I wouldn’t be here.”

  You’d be out of my life??

  “So why the whole rent with benefits thing?” I asked.

  Tristan looked my way. “Every day I looked at myself in the mirror I saw their faces. Five years ago they were killed and for the last four years I fell into a self-destructive spiral. I drank myself to sleep. I buried any concerns over drinking with just mindless fucking. I traveled the world, looking for ways to keep myself busy. I didn’t care.”

  I listened, my tears drying up.

  “And then, about a year ago, I hit rock bottom. I’d spent 48 hours awake, flipped over a car, fucked three women and drank a bottle of scotch when I decided life wasn’t worth living if I was going to live it like that.”

  “What did you do?” I asked, my voice a whisper, looking up at this man who stood before me.

  I think I remember something about some sort of ‘Prince Psycho’ or something like that in the New York Post…

  “I decided to leave the royal crown of St. Maalden to the next person in line – a distant cousin through marriage. My grandmother is still the Queen, but I needed to chart my own path. When she dies, my cousin Vincent will take the throne as Regent-King”

  “So you came to New York?”

  He nodded. “The only constraint my grandmother left me was that if I was to start on my own, build my life, which is what I needed, then I had to resist the temptation to fall back on my wealth.”

  My eyes widened. I looked around the lavish apartment. “But this apartment?”

  Tristan shook his head. “If you went through the binder, you’ll see that every month, my grandmother’s accountants let an automatic transfer of my trust fund go through, and every month I manually send it back. The activity comes out to about close to 90 million dollars.”

  The guy could make 45 million dollars a month?!

  “I send it all back, trust me, the people at Bank of America love the activity fees that it generates. But this, all this, I did it all myself. But I still get the feelings of guilt sometimes - that I am the cause for the death of Nadia and Penny, so I tried to mask those emotions through sex. Just pure, mindless, meaningless sex.”

  I nodded. I could understand that. I looked at him. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “No,” he replied. “I’m so sorry instead, Alicia. I never meant for you to be a part of my baggage.”

  I shook my head, but didn’t get the chance to speak. “The problem is, this sex with you has stopped being so meaningless. It’s starting to mean something. It’s starting to get real.”

  I saw it now, the real Tristan. And it was hard to take. It was hard to imagine everything he had been through, and I couldn’t help but feel terrible for handling everything with him the way I had. In the end, he wasn’t anything like what I thought him to be. He wasn’t a pervert, he wasn’t a narcissistic jerk - he was just hurting. All by himself. He was as lonely as I was.

  I approached him, hesitant. I wanted to hug him, I wanted to comfort him. And I wanted to be held too, I wanted to lay my head against his chest and, for once, stop feeling so damn lonely.

  And so I did it. I reached for him, my hands on his back, and pulled him into me. He wasn’t expecting it but, after a second, he took me in his own arms, one hand gently holding the back of my head.

  I looked into his eyes, seeing for the first time a world of pain hiding there. How could he endure it all by himself? I reached for his lips, rising up on tiptoes, and lay my mouth against his. Just a simple kiss, nothing more than that. More than lust or desire, there was understanding. For the first time, I felt like I truly saw him for what he was. And, even though I hadn’t suffered as much as he did, I recognized myself in the veil of loneliness he tried so hard to hide from me.

  “I’m so sorry.” I whispered, looking down.

  “For what, Alicia?”

  “Everything,” I said, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into me. Our lips touched, the sweet flavor of his mouth making my skin prickle. I reached with my tongue for his and, finding it, danced in slow gentle circles around it.

  His hands went to my lower back, his long thin fingers brushing against my skin. His touch was gentle and delicate and, behind closed eyes, I could hear how it made my heart flutter inside my chest.

  I wanted him. No, I needed him.

  With my fingers on his collar I started unbuttoning his shirt, each passing second revealing one more inch of his hard chest. I felt the slow rise of his chest against my hand, and I couldn’t help but think of pressing myself against his naked torso, skin on skin, flesh on flesh. I pushed the shirt down his arms, sliding my hands over his skin, and then looked for the hem of his pants. I unclasped his belt buckle, my heart beating faster and faster.

  I had been with him before but now… Now it seemed different, so
mehow. Now I could see the real Tristan and, by God, I wanted him.

  I unbuttoned his pants, feeling something thick and hard underneath his boxers. I felt his hands go down to my ass, his long fingers cupping my rounds cheeks, and I grabbed his long shape over his boxers, feeling it pulse against my hand. I went down on my knees, pushing down his underwear and pants as I went, his cock standing free right in front of me.

  Tristan kicked off his shoes and threw his pants and boxers on top of his shirt. I looked up at him - he stood naked and gorgeous, all of him like a perfect gift destiny had thrown on my lap.

  I leaned forward, laying my lips on his tip, sucking and allowing his saltiness to hit all of my senses. Curling my fingers around his cock, I parted my lips and allowed his glans to rest on top of my tongue, carefully feeling his eagerness inside of my mouth. He was delicious and so, wanting to taste all of him, I eased his shaft inside my mouth, slowly bobbing my head back and forth as I stroked him at the same time.

  He rested his hands on top of my head, guiding my head up and down, his fingers gently running through my hair.

  I remembered the first time I had felt him in my mouth. There was a mixture of spite and lust back then, as I loved his gorgeousness but hated the kind of man he seemed to be. Now, my lips firmly wrapped around his cock once more, everything seemed so different… And in a good way. There was no more spite, only desire for all of him.

  My hands grabbed at his firm ass, pulling him in and forcing his cock down my mouth. I lapped with my tongue at his shaft, sucking eagerly and relishing every single second as I stroked him hard, my wrist flicking up and down in a flowing motion.

  His cock twitched inside my mouth and, for a second, I thought he was about to cum. But he gently placed his fingers on my jawline and pushed me back, his cock popping out of my mouth. He extended his hand towards me and I took it, allowing him to help me get up.

  He took me in his arms once more, pressing his mouth against me, his hands grabbing at my ass hungrily. I wanted him to explore all of me, to take all the pleasure that he could… I reached for his wrist and guided one hand towards my breasts. He obliged, squeezing the soft mound underneath my blouse and making me moan lightly, almost just a whisper.

  He stopped for a second, pulling back and looking into my eyes.

  “You’re truly beautiful, did you know that?”

  I simply smiled at him, a gentle and genuine smile. I loved hearing that, the way each word was so simple and yet seemed so carefully chosen, as if it wasn’t something he wouldn’t dare say lightly.

  Still with his eyes locked on mine, he grabbed my blouse; I raised my arms up in the air and he pulled it out, the fabric caressing my skin as it went. I stood there, in my bra, anxiously waiting for his touch.

  “Turn around.”

  I did as he asked, turning on my heels. I felt his fingertips brushing against my back and, in an instant, he had unhooked my bra. I simply let it fall, the cool air in the room kissing my hard nipples. He reached for me before I could turn, resting his lips on my neck and cupping both my breasts in his powerful hands. I gasped as I felt his warm touch on me, a pleasant buzz pulsing between my legs. As if he had felt it, he let one hand drop and placed it right over my crotch, pressing his fingers there and drawing a moan out of me. I could feel his breath against my neck, desire building up all over my body.

  Grabbing me by the hips he made me turn to him. I didn’t resist when he pushed me back gently, the back of my knees finding the edge of the bed - I fell back, my body hitting the mattress softly. He climbed on top of me, the muscles in his arms and chest tense and chiseled, each one of them perfectly outlined under that tan skin of his. He kissed me then, his lips wet and eager, my mouth opening up and surrendering to him.

  His fingers travelled down and over my breasts, stopping for a moment to caress my rosy nipples and then carrying on to my stomach, only stopping at the hem of my jeans.

  “Tristan…” I purred, wiggling my hips as he unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them down, revealing my dark blue thong. In an instant he pressed his mouth against the wet fabric of it, sucking and nibbling as I contorted in delight. He pushed the thong aside, just enough to reveal my wet pussy and lay his lips there, lapping at my labia with his tongue, up and down, up and down, always circling its way back around my clit.

  I pushed my hips up, lost in the moment, craving his mouth on me. He pushed me down to the mattress, holding me with one hand and sliding the thong down my legs in one quick motion. I was finally naked, my body his. With his hands on my knees he parted my legs, taking a good look at the thin patch of wet hair between my legs, my pink labia yearning for the touch of his tongue.

  Instinct took hold of me and I buried my hands on his hair, forcing his head down and pressing my pussy against his face. He went down eagerly, his open mouth devouring me as I swayed my hips with no discernible rhythm. He flicked his tongue at my clit and brushed two fingers up and down my pussy, sliding them in as slowly as he could, a sharp breath tumbling out of my lips as he did it. I arched my back, clenching my ass as my whole body tensed up in pleasure.

  “Don’t…” I started, trying to speak between moans. “Don’t stop, Tristan… Don’t…”

  I didn’t need to worry - he seemed to have no intention of stopping or slowing down. In fact, he started sucking harder, my inner lips caressed by his mouth as his fingers hooked in and out of me. I pushed my hips up once more, forcing his fingers deep inside as I shivered and trembled, a hasty scream forcing its way up my throat. I gritted my teeth as ecstasy covered me like an avalanche.

  “Oh… My…” He didn’t allow me to say it, nor did he allow me to take a break. He pressed his thumb gently over my clit, moving it in careful maddening circles. He kept lapping at my pussy, slower now, my wetness dripping down my thighs to the mattress. “Oh… Tristan…”

  I kept moaning, not knowing if I could withstand the barrage of pleasure he wanted to submit me to. He pressed his forearm over my belly, holding me down as he slid one more finger inside me, stretching my pussy and making bright lights explode behind my closed eyelids. He kept going, his fingers burying themselves deep like a hook, straining against my inner walls as they made their way.

  He moved his tongue up, replacing his thumb with it and licking my clit gently. I clawed furiously at his hair, feeling the tension building up once again. It was maddening and irresistible. I moaned hard, knowing what was coming, and thrust my pussy against his face, orgasming my way into oblivion with his face buried between my legs.

  I let my muscles and body relax as I collapsed on the bed, praying for a minute’s rest. But Tristan had other things in mind. Instead of stopping, he took his fingers off inside me and, grabbing under my thighs, raised my legs and placed them over his shoulders. In a heartbeat, he had his mouth wrapped against my pussy again, sucking hungrily and darting his tongue in and out of me.

  “Please… Tristan…” I moaned, my body crying for relief. I would explode, I just knew it, if he made me come once more. But he didn’t seem to care and, soon enough, neither did I. I laced my legs under his neck and locked his head in place, forcing him to devour me with no mercy. I screamed and I moaned, my voice bouncing off the walls and reaching my ears as pleasure turned into sound.

  I screamed until my throat became raw, my hips jerking erratically as a heavenly sent electric currents ran through my flesh. My whole body seemed as if it was disintegrating, turning into a cloud of delight and pleasure. I came once more, spasms taking reign over my body and sending my limbs flailing as if I was nothing more than a ragdoll. I was blind and numb, my body utterly spent as that raging orgasm coursed through my veins.

  I lay sprawled on the bed, breathing in and out as if I was dying. And I was - I was dying from so much pleasure. Even so, opening my eyes and seeing that gorgeous, perfect and naked man right on top me turned the coals of desire inside me into a raging inferno once again.

  I thought I was done, spent and unable to move - b
ut looking into Tristan’s eyes and seeing the hunger there… It was as if my heart was pumping adrenaline and not blood.

  I took my hands to his shoulders and, summoning up strength I didn’t know I had, I pushed him down to the mattress and climbed on top of him with a cat-like motion. Grabbing his cock by the root I pointed it up, straight to where my body demanded it to be. I eased myself down, my whole body shuddering as his tip slowly parted my labia and struggled against my inner walls. I lowered myself slowly, each inch I went down drawing a purred moan out of me. I was surprised I could even do that, judging by the inane amount of screaming I had done. But it still seemed I had reserves in store - as his shaft slid inside of me and pierced me completely I let out one more scream that made my bones rattle. I clawed at his chest, my fingernails burying themselves in his pectorals with such ferociousness I was surprised I wasn’t drawing blood.

  My hips swayed back and forth as he grabbed my ass, his hands accompanying the motion of my body, squeezing at my cheeks and rubbing against my flushed skin.

  I rode him hard, almost too violently, hell bent on pleasing him as much as he had pleased him. My ass slapped his thighs as I went up and down, his cock sliding easily inside my pussy, the flowing motion of our bodies almost hypnotizing.

  He took his hands from my bottom and placed them over my breasts, squeezing them and pinching my nipples softly; I leaned into him, my breasts bouncing free over his mouth. He reached for them with his lips, sucking a hard nipple into his mouth and caressing it with the tip of his tongue.

  I kept going until sweat started to trickle down my back, surprised my body could endure all that. I guess that when pleasure (or should I say Tristan?) is your fuel, the sky's the limit. I didn’t slow down, not even when his muscles bulged and tensed up as if they were under a huge strain - instead of that, I went at him faster and fiercer, rocking my body against his until the point of no return.

  He grabbed my ass once more and, instead of guiding me, he simply thrust his hips upwards and pushed me down, holding me into place. I tilted my head back and let out a scream that could break glass as his cock spasmed inside of me.