The Proposal Problem: A Billionaire Royal Hangover Romance

by Natalie Knight

  I gasp at his accusation but Leo doesn't even flinch. He doesn't seem to care at all about the man's threats.

  Instead, he scoops me up in his arms and holds me tight.

  I allow myself to be held and I feel grateful, at least for the moment, because I don’t think I let myself feel how scary the situation had become until Leo removed me from it..

  "Let’s go,” he says roughly.

  "Where are we going?" I ask, still shaken up…but now there’s a different anticipation hanging over my head.

  “Upstairs. I’m taking you to my penthouse.”

  6

  Leo

  I stride through the casino with my hand clamped around Sienna’s arm, pulling her into my private elevator and away from the hands of that bastard.

  What was she even thinking going out with a guy like that? Can't she tell bad news when she sees it?

  I am absolutely disgusted by that mockery of date I saw down there. If Sienna thinks this is the only way to make money then she needs to be taught a lesson.

  Someone has to show her how to protect herself.

  Or at least step in and do her bidding for her.

  Having her here with me goes against everything decision I tried to make with the best intentions. I vowed not to get wrapped up in her.

  Fuck. She smells so delicious. I want to bury my face in her hair while I bury my cock deep inside her pussy.

  I clench my jaw, trying to erase the images that won’t fucking stop coming.

  She looks even more stunning than she did last night. Her body is tanned and tight like it is calling out for my touch. I want every perfect inch of her to beneath me. I want to push her up against this elevator wall taker her, claim her, just like I claimed her once before.

  She's still the best I've ever had. I'll never forget that night and I don't want to. Right now I just want to retake what my body is fucking screaming is mine.

  "What were you thinking?" I ask her with barely suppressed rage, lust coiling to the surface.

  She looks at me like I have some nerve. "Who are you to question my motives? You're not even in my life anymore. You don’t control me."

  It's not what she says but the way she says it. So defiant. Her tone has a biting quality that simultaneously turns me on, makes me want to control her, but that also stabs me right through the heart.

  I left her, it's true, but I don’t think she has a clue about the real reason why.

  That’s no excuse. My cock wants to make it all better. My mind doesn’t want to reason with what’s right.

  I look away, not wanting my face to reveal my warring thoughts and the untamed hunger she draws from me. "It seems like I'm the only one here for you now. How did you expect to fend that guy off? Were you just going to leave with him?"

  "Of course not!" She sounds indignant but from what I saw, she was in way over her head.

  "I don't know how you could put yourself in that position. I mean, that lecherous old man was pushing the limits. Do you let every guy handle you like that these days as long as there’s something in it for you?"

  She looks enraged. And then her hand flies up out of nowhere and she slaps me in the face. I stare at her in disbelief and put my hand to the burning skin.

  Something about it turns me on, makes me crazy. I've never had a woman stand up to me like that.

  It makes me want to turn her over my knee and punish her in my own way. I want to prove my dominance over her feisty little attitude, and I decide right then that I won't stop until she knows just how powerful I am.

  "Aren't you a fiery little thing?" I say through gritted teeth.

  She stares up at me unapologetically.

  I did deserve it. I basically called her a whore, even though I know in my heart she's the farthest thing from it.

  Still, I don't understand how she could sell herself like this for money.

  I know she's just beginning to work as an escort and that she has no intention of sleeping with the men she dates for pay, but she doesn't know the business like I do.

  Doesn’t know the men like I do. They're always going to try something.

  They’ll always try to take things too far, and she needs a personal bodyguard to handle that safely.

  She's like this innocent princess in a world of sharks. And this is especially true in Vegas.

  "You deserved it," she says boldly, though her hands are shaking.

  "I know."

  My confession seems to appease her, and I hope we can let it go because my cock is straining hard against my pants and it's hard to contain.

  She’s just upped the ante by standing up for herself like that.

  Now I want her even more, and I always, always get what I want.

  I know I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I told myself she was off limits.

  Fuck, her goddamn brother showed up begging me to make her mine, and I told him no. But it’s getting harder to resist her with every second that passes.

  Fucking finally, we reach the penthouse. I want to spread her over the dining room table and shove my cock into her over and over again to show her who’s really in charge, but I play it cool.

  If I’m going to have her, I’ll seduce her first and then make her beg for it.

  I casually walk up to the expensive backlit glass bar. "Want a drink?"

  "Yes, please. Jameson."

  She takes the liberty of inspecting my apartment, or rather, my deluxe penthouse bachelor pad. It's pure luxury and all male; there’s a not a hint of a feminine touch anywhere. It's all leather, chrome and wood.

  Everything is perfect, situated to a tee, and that's how I like it.

  I need to have control over every facet of my life, starting with where I lay my head at night and where I bring my women.

  Those women never stay long, but I love seeing their shocked faces when they realize I live in a mansion on top of the most exciting city in the world.

  I literally have it all at my feet.

  Sienna sees this and tries to hide her reaction. I know she's as impressed as all the others have been even though she’s no stranger to luxury.

  "Like what you see?" I meet her at the window and hand her a glass of the whiskey over ice.

  "It's fine. I mean, I've seen better."

  She's such a fucking liar. I want to laugh.

  Although her brother is a politician with access to the world's most powerful leaders and her father’s company was worth a fortune before they lost everything.

  There's no telling what she's seen.

  I just know how much I want to show her. Fuck, she permeates my every thoughts in that maddening way where I can’t control myself. She’s a danger to me as much as I’m a danger to her.

  I take a long, hard drink of the amber liquid and zero in on her, prepared for round two of battle.

  "So, why are you escorting anyway? You know I think it's a bad idea."

  She gazes at me with those golden eyes that haunt me.

  "It's a good thing I don't really care what you think. I can do what I want, and I want to be an escort. End of story. I don't have to explain why."

  I meet her defiant expression with my hardened gaze.

  Fine. If she wants to play that way, I can play. I pick up my phone and send a quick text and then I shoot her a smug smile. Get ready for the fireworks.

  "What did you just do?" She just can't help but ask.

  "Oh, that?" I say nonchalantly. "I texted your boss. I now own you as my personal escort for the next thirty days."

  "You what?" She's angry now, like I've hit a nerve. Her expression twists into a combination of fury and incredulity.

  My lips curve up into a taunting smile, and I say, "You heard me."

  It’s almost certainly a bad idea.

  I refused Jax’s request, I denied myself twice already…yet here I am making sure she’s mine for the next thirty days.

  I’m out of my fucking mind, I know.

  But I refuse to let her be
subjected to the perversions of the men who’d buy her. I tell myself I’m protecting her.

  And while I’m at it, I might as well enjoy it.

  "You wouldn't dare."

  "I dare. It’s done"

  She pulls her hand up to slap my other cheek, but this time I've seen her coming a mile away.

  I catch her wrist and twist it so that she's curled into my chest, unable to escape.

  "You're mine now. If you insist on being owned, I’m going to be the fucking one to own you."

  "Let me go!" She says the words, but I can tell by her breathing, her flushed skin, her voice…she doesn’t want to be released.

  In fact, I feel the heat between us and I think it's time to make her admit she feels it too.

  I pin her arms behind her back and wedge her between me and the window overlooking the vast heights of the city. My hips are pinned against her. She can't escape even if she wanted to. But I know she doesn’t want to.

  She’s mine right now and she’s craving it like I do.

  I have her right where I want her, though I didn't fully realize it until now.

  I've missed her sexy body and that feisty spirit. Now I look forward to owning her body, mind, and soul for the next thirty days.

  As for Sienna? Her eyes tell me she's just begging for it.

  "You know, you might like being owned," I whisper.

  The heat between us is so intimate and yet so fucking primal.

  Sienna always delivers up something unexpected, and I can’t wait to find out what that is tonight, and every night that I want her thereafter.

  This is going to be fucking good. So fucking good.

  "No." She bucks against me, struggling to break free of my grasp, but I don't move a muscle. "You have me all wrong. I don't want this. I don't want you."

  She says the words, but her body is quivering beneath mine. She may resist but I know I'm the one she wants.

  "It's fine if you don't want me because I own you now. That's what you get for being an escort. You must secretly want to be owned."

  "How dare you!" she continues to struggle. I push her back harder. And then I put both her wrists together with one hand and with the other I pull her chin up so she’s forced to look at me.

  "Tell me you want this," I demand.

  All I need is the green light to make her wildest dreams come true. Even though I’m commanding her body, holding her captive, I won’t make a move until she says so. I want her begging for it and she better fucking mean it. I’d never hurt Sienna no matter how goddamn much I crave her.

  I don’t want her pain.

  I want her pleasure.

  I feel her hesitate. She stops struggling and I know she’s so close to giving into me at last.

  I want to kiss her, hard and savage. I want to make her pay for driving me insane with this raging desire.

  If she's going to sell herself, then she needs to know what it means to fully be owned.

  By me.

  She’s no virgin, but I need that trust she gave me all those years ago, placed in my hands like a total gamble…because she’s mine.

  I am in control.

  I need her to admit she likes it.

  For tonight, she just needs to surrender, and I’ll claim her like we both crave.

  7

  Sienna

  “Let me go,” I say again, struggling against Leo and hoping the desire in my voice isn’t as obvious to him as it is to me. Because oh my fucking god. This man has me quaking, my entire body ready to melt into a hot, needy mess.

  Leo’s lips pull up on one side in a knowing smirk. “If that’s what you want. But you have to say it like you mean it.”

  Shit. He knows. He fucking knows what kind of power he has over me right now. And when he leans in, his mouth so close all it would take is a tilt of my head to feel them on me, I can practically feel the energy vibrating between us.

  My arm is still twisted behind me, trapped between my back and the cold glass of the window. Leo’s hand is like a vise on my wrist. There’s no escaping him.

  As much as I hate to admit it, even if only to myself, I don’t want to escape him.

  There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than right here, pinned against the glass, the lights of Vegas shining like a carnival below me while Leo makes my entire body ignite with a lust so powerful it seems surreal.

  My eyes narrow at the amusement I see in his gaze.

  Seriously?

  He finds it funny that I’m so horny right now I can barely think, let alone convince him I don’t want this.

  Well, fuck him then. I swallow hard, lifting my chin in defiance. Preparing to let the lie fall from my lips.

  But just as I open my mouth to tell him that yes, I want him to let me the fuck go, he moves so fast I barely have time to register what’s happening.

  Pulling my trapped hand from behind my back, he yanks it roughly up and around, spinning me in the process so that I’m facing the giant sheet of glass.

  I throw my free hand up to steady myself as I stumble on my stilettos. Then he crowds in right behind me, his clutch on my wrist tight as he pins my hand above my head.

  “Say it, Sienna.” The growl in his voice sends a spark of nerves racing all the way from my neck, where his warm breath teases, straight down to my pussy, which is now clenching and convulsing, desperate for something to grip and squeeze.

  A strangled moan works its way up my throat. “Say what?”

  His low chuckle sets my body on fire. I’m burning up from the inside. Unable to move from where I’m caught between Leo and the window, I rest my cheek against the cool glass, hoping it will help me chill the fuck out and find the will to not give in.

  “Say you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t feel this too.” Leo emphasizes his words with a thrust of his hips, wedging his cock right between my ass cheeks.

  My fingers contract, trying to grip the smooth glass, needing something to hold onto because apparently going weak in the knees is a thing. Who knew?

  Yes, I fucking feel it. Though I know he’s not talking about his massive cock. Which, by the way, I’m know certain is crazy huge. The knowledge of how he can fill me up so completely doesn’t help my argument.

  When Leo meets my eyes in the reflection of the glass, they’re burning with the same desire that I’ve been fighting all night.

  He wants this.

  I want this.

  So what’s stopping us?

  I’m having a hard time remembering, especially when he takes his free hand and reaches around in front of me, pressing his palm firmly against my chest.

  My nipples tighten instantly, my body responding to him eagerly, even though my mind is still screaming at me, trying to get a message through.

  As he drags his hand roughly over the swell of my tits—just close enough to make me ache for more—then slowly down my side, I lose all sense of time and place.

  There’s a reason why this is bad, why I should go with my earlier instinct and just tell the lie—insist I don’t want this. But I can’t remember what it is anymore.

  Leo’s fingers dig into my hip and his cock presses harder against my ass, and the last shred of pretense disappears.

  “I do, Leo,” I moan. “God, I want it too. So fucking bad.”

  “Say it,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Tell me what you want.”

  His fingers are so close to my throbbing pussy. If I just shift a little to the right, I might get a little relief from the building pressure that’s begging for more.

  I feel him shake his head from behind me. His laugh is full of wicked intent. “Not so easy, Sienna. Not until you say it.”

  Goddammit. Fine. If this domineering, commanding asshole wants me to say it, I’ll fucking say it. Just give me a fucking orgasm already.

  “You, Leo. I fucking want you.”

  “Not good enough.” He presses me harder against the glass and trails his fingers down to the hem of my short
dress to stroke lightly at my inner thigh.

  Looking down at the Vegas Strip below us, I feel dizzy. Not from the near-vertigo effect. No, from the fact that Leo fucking Asher’s hand is mere inches from my soaking wet pussy.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  There. I said it.

  It’s everything I told myself I’d never do.

  I’d never beg a man, least of all this one.

  Yet in mere minutes he’s reduced me to a begging wreck of need. I just want more. So much more from this moment. From the way he makes me feel.

  Leo won’t make me wait; he responds to my words instantly. Keeping me firmly in place by his hand on my wrist and his cock against my ass, he reaches up under my dress and hooks a finger in my thong.

  I almost come at the brush of his finger against my sopping wet pussy lips.

  Then he shocks the hell out of me when he yanks down—really fucking hard—and tears my thong off me with one quick jerk of his wrist.

  I gasp, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.

  I don’t have time to think about how fucking hot that was because the next thing I know Leo’s shoved two fingers so deep inside my pussy that my knees really do buckle.

  My breath comes hard and fast as he slides them back out and thrusts in again, over and over, so fast and furious that it’s almost punishing.

  I whimper, my hips grinding down against his hand. I’m so close to surrendering to the lust that rages through my body and threatens to take over my every thought. It won’t take much for me to be wet, shaking, mess in the throes of an orgasm.

  Leo finger fucks me at a desperate pace, and the sound of my slick juices slapping wetly against his skin as he does is pretty much the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Jesus Christ, Sienna, you’re so fucking wet,” he groans against my neck.

  I tilt my head to the side to give him better access to the sensitive flesh, and he dives right in. Lips and tongue and teeth assault me just as violently as his fingers. He nips and sucks and licks at my neck, my ear, my shoulder.

  “Please, Leo.” I’m begging at this point. And I don’t even fucking care now. I just need to come.