The King's Virgin Bride: A Royal Wedding Novella (Royal Weddings Book 1)

by Natalie Knight

  Fuck.

  “I’d ask what you’d like to see next,” Oliver begins, “but I think your mind might be back in the city right now.”

  “Is it that obvious?” I can see by all three of their expressions that it is, at least to them.

  “We designated a room for her, you know,” Oliver says, then looks to Elijah to pick up the baton.

  “It’s one of the nicer ones, and it’s waiting for her any time she wants to stay here.

  “You guys set up a guest room just for Chloe?”

  Lucas gives me a smile with a warmth I rarely see from him.

  “Do you think we’d dream of having it any other fucking way?”

  I take a second to look at the ceiling, seeing that there are different friezes on the ceiling here than downstairs...and trying not to feel overwhelmed.

  Goddamn, they really did it all for me, didn’t they?

  I wipe away a tear from each eye with the back of my hand, and look back down at Elijah, at Lucas, and at Oliver.

  I just need to say two words, and I’ll be ready to continue the tour.

  “Thank you.”

  My eyes drift to the other end of the long, red-carpeted hall.

  I wonder if my bedroom is behind one of those doors.

  “Hey, I know there’s a lot to see, but I wouldn’t mind putting the tour on hold for now and just seeing my bedroom...I’d like to christen it properly before seeing anything else.”

  Yes. After all the sweet things they’ve thought of for me, I’d say the tour could wait.

  Sofie

  “Boys,” I say accusingly, glaring at them over my shoulder. “This is all way too much.”

  “Never heard you say that before,” Lucas says, coming up behind me. He pinches my ass like he owns it. I guess, in a way, he kind of does.

  “That’s not true,” Eli corrects him. “We’ve heard it plenty of times.”

  “Yeah,” Oliver adds, shoving his way in for himself. He mimics my voice in a falsetto. “Oh, Oliver, Eli, Lucas! Your cocks are just too big, they’re too much, they’re too—”

  I cut Oliver off with an elbow to the gut and prance into my new bedroom, letting the boys tumble in after me.

  It really is too much. Like, honestly.

  But I guess when it comes to my tastes, too much is just enough.

  The first thing I notice is the bed. It’s fucking huge. Like, sleeps-four-people huge.

  Maybe even five, if we ever decide to invite Chloe along for the ride.

  She’d fucking love that, let’s be real. But Chloe has her own boy toy to contend with these days, and I don’t know how good I’ll be at sharing. After all, having three men all to myself has left me pretty fucking spoiled.

  As far as charity auctions go, it seems like Chloe and I both made bank.

  My bedroom is as opulent as it is understated. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. All the fancy bits are in the details.

  The gold filigree and the marble scroll work. The way the bedposts on my super-duper king-sized bed are hand-carved with lilies and roses. The way everything is ornately just so.

  Big picture, though: the room is gorgeously minimalist. When I flop onto the bed, I can tell that the comforter alone probably costs more than what my parents make in a month. The curtains are probably hand-woven or some shit.

  The rich burgundy canopy over the bed has been intricately embroidered with flowers in the same color as the fabric, and the pillows are so dense that as I sink into them, I’m not sure that I’ll ever be able to find my way back out.

  Luckily, someone—Eli, as it turns out—grabs my ankle and pulls me to the edge of the bed by it, releasing me from my fluffy prison and allowing me to once again breathe.

  “It’s perfect,” I say, shaking my hair out and grinning up at them like I can hardly believe how good I’ve got it.

  I actually still can’t believe it sometimes. That everything is turning out okay and that the sun is rising over a better tomorrow and that I have three ultra-rich boyfriends with foot-long penises.

  Sometimes, life knocks you down.

  Sometimes, life goes down on you.

  Sometimes, Elijah Kennedy does the honors instead.

  “Mmm,” I moan as he drops to his knees and smooths his hands up my inner thighs. “So I guess the first orgasm in the new bed is going to be mine?”

  “First twenty or so, more like,” Lucas says, moving toward the headboard as Eli’s touches turn to licks, then kisses, then bites.

  “We’ll give you a hundred and call it good,” Oliver adds. He’s on the other side of the bed, moving toward the headboard himself now. “That’s the good thing about having three men at your beck and call, right, Sofie?”

  “We can go down on you in shifts,” Eli growls, his lips poised just level with my pussy beneath my skirt.

  He pounces on me, licking and kissing and moaning with pleasure against my slit, and I ride against his mouth without even thinking about it. I’m getting really good at orgasming now. Like, insanely good at it.

  So good at it that I barely notice the way Lucas and Oliver are fumbling with something behind the headboard, because, well, I’m kind of busy coming.

  It’s not until the canopy drops down on top of me that I have to claw the red fabric away from me and stare up at them, confused as I ride out the last few intense, throbbing waves.

  They don’t say anything to me.

  Nothing at all.

  Instead, they both point up.

  I toss the fabric of the canopy away and raise my eyes to the ceiling above me.

  There, at the top of the bed, is a mirror.

  A huge fucking mirror.

  And reflected in that mirror is little ol’ me. Yours truly. Small but curvaceous, dwarfed by the massive size of the mattress beneath me, and yep—still coming against Elijah Kennedy’s handsome mouth.

  “Oh my god,” I say—and then those words turn to pleased little moans.

  I look beautiful. I look happy. And Eli’s dark hair moving beneath my hand as I push him harder against my cunt is just icing on the cake.

  The bed jostles as the orgasm subsides. Suddenly, Lucas and Oliver are at my sides, undressing me properly. They’ve both managed to lose their pants in the process, which I’m not going to complain about. Like, what madwoman would, right?

  They tear my clothes off, and I oblige them with the same treatment in return. Lucas’ neck tie ends up tossed across the room. Oliver’s shirt loses more than a few buttons as I rip it open to expose his chest. What’s left of my dress ends up on the floor, and my bra quickly follows.

  Oliver holds my arms behind my back, grinding his giant dick against my ass while Lucas makes love to my breasts with his mouth.

  Over Lucas’ shoulder, Eli is loosening his own tie all slow and sensual. He takes his time with it, making a show of how desperate he can make me while I’m being ravished by two other men.

  His eyes are sparkling with delight. His gorgeous, straight white teeth are biting into his lower lip. And best of all, his chin is glistening with my cum.

  In my humble opinion, this man can’t get his clothes off quickly enough. At the same time, though, I could watch him striptease for me all fucking day.

  Finally, he comes to me. Oliver and Lucas lay me down on the bed while Eli, stroking his cock, moves between my thighs.

  “We want you to see yourself in real-time, Sofie,” Eli tells me. The hard, swollen head of his cock moves up and down my slit as he coats it in my honey. “So there’s no more questions about who this sexy thing orgasming around our cocks might be.”

  “Because this is you, babe,” Oliver tells me as he takes my wrist and presses it into the mattress.

  “Entirely our Sofie,” Lucas adds, doing the same to my other wrist. “Whether you’re our good girl—”

  “Or our bad girl—”

  “As long as you’re ours,” Eli growls.

  Then he takes me.

  My pussy wi
ll never get used to swallowing up so much massive billionaire cock, but dammit, it tries. I’m wet enough that with a little thrusting, I’m always able to accommodate my men. But I’m also tight enough that they always hit that sweet spot between hurting for real and hurting good.

  The second orgasm Eli gives me as his body moves over mine is intense. Insane. I watch myself in the mirror overhead as he gives it to me, and there’s no denying it.

  It’s me. Totally me.

  Those are my eyes, wide open with the pupils dilating, staring back down at me.

  My mouth, my plump wet lips parted as I moan before I bury my teeth in Eli’s shoulder.

  My fingers clawing the comforter as Lucas and Oliver hold me down.

  My legs, wrapping around Eli’s waist.

  My ankles, crossing behind his back and holding him inside me as I feel his balls tense up and his cock fill me with cum.

  I’m still panting and cooing and whimpering from my second orgasm as Lucas positions himself between my thighs for his turn. I know that he’ll give me my third if I let him, and my fourth on top of that, whether I want him to or not.

  “Say my name,” he growls, tracing his stubble down my cheek.

  “Lucas!” I gasp.

  Then he takes me. Hard and fast.

  Harder than Eli did.

  Rougher. Less controlled.

  His fingers slip against my clit, flicking against it until my cunt is spasming around him.

  That orgasm is even harder to watch than the last ones. Every time I close my eyes, I only want to open them to see the pleasure on my face again. And every time I open them, the sight of my face and my body losing control beneath Lucas is almost too much to bear.

  It’s good. It’s so fucking good.

  I ride it out until I feel the next blossoming inside of me. Like a flower that’s just waiting for the first breath of spring before it pops open in full bloom.

  Apparently, the breath of spring is Lucas’ mouth on my neck. A scrape of his teeth, one particularly well-aimed thrust, and then—

  “Oh, Lucas!”

  “Oh, darlin’,” he snarls back.

  Lucas’ cum joins Eli’s deep in my pussy, coating every inch and then some. When he pulls out—reluctantly, might I add—a wave of man cream pours out with him.

  Right onto the brand new comforter, might I add.

  I guess it’s not a proper christening unless we make a little bit of a mess, huh?

  By the time Oliver slips between my thighs, with Lucas and Eli pinning my wrists to the bed, I’m soaked. Cum-pletety.

  My cum. Eli’s cum. Lucas’ cum.

  As Oliver dips his finger between my pussy lips and brings a great glob of baby-making juice to my lips, I’m utterly certain that he’s about to add his load to the mix.

  He slides right in and moans, low and dark, as he does it.

  “Sofie,” he purrs, laying a kiss between my breasts. “Perfect fit.”

  Oliver makes love slow and sweet. Special. He’s only rough when he’s about to cum, but before that, he takes his time, ramping me up to an orgasm of my own.

  His mouth is warm and wet against the skin of my torso. He leaves hot, steamy kisses all over my tits as he stirs my cunt with his hot, steamy rod.

  “Oh,” I moan softly.

  It’s not like the other orgasms I’ve had so far. This one has time to cultivate. To grow. Like the fine wines that Oliver enjoys so much, he lets this orgasm age and mature until it’s so ripe, it pops inside me like the cork on a bottle of champagne.

  Gushing. I’m gushing around him like champagne too.

  My cum. Eli’s cum. Lucas’ cum.

  And then—oh, fuck. Then Oliver’s cum, too. All of it mixed together perfectly.

  Like a cocktail made of love.

  Above me, the eyes of my reflection are glazed over with pleasure like a fucking doughnut. I’m already cream-filled, as the rush of cum seeping out of my pussy is more than happy to remind me.

  But as my men release my wrists and kneel over me, I can’t help but think I’m about to be glazed in more ways than one.

  “Oh my fuck,” I whisper.

  Too many orgasms.

  Too much pleasure.

  And now, there are three of the most gorgeous cocks in the universe hovering over me.

  All of them erect. Even Oliver’s—and he literally just came.

  All of them gripped in my men’s fists.

  All of them poised to squirt more of that perfect, creamy, cummy goodness onto my smoking hot body and dangerously sensitive skin.

  “How do you feel, Sofie?”

  I sigh, pant, then bite my lip and feel my eyes go crossed as I breathe in again. When I look up at my reflection, she looks sluttier than ever.

  No. I look sluttier than ever.

  No Good Sofie. No Bad Sofie.

  Just me.

  I look like I’m about to get covered in a huge amount of fucking cum, is what I look like.

  But how do I feel?

  Like I’m finally the woman I’ve always wanted to be. Selfish in my orgasms. Generous in my pleasure. Free to want whatever I want, whenever I want it.

  Even if what I want is to be covered in the cum of three men at once.

  It feels amazing. Fantastic. I want to yell it from the rooftops, though I won’t tell them that. Or else I’ll end up on the actual fucking roof of this place, taking all three of their cocks in my ass at once.

  Which, actually…well, I’ll have Slutty Sofie make a note of that. Not for now. But…someday.

  I’m not prepared for that level quite yet…but if there’s one thing that Slutty Sofie is still useful for, I have to admit: she takes excellent sex notes.

  How do you feel, Sofie? They asked.

  “Good,” I finally say. With emphasis: GOOD.

  The smile on my face as my own reflection stares back at me is proof.

  I’m fucking happy.

  With Oliver.

  With Elijah.

  With Lucas.

  All of us, together.

  “I love you,” I say. And then I say it again, and again: “I love you. I love you.”

  I figure all three deserve their own.

  When they say it back to me, they’re stroking their cocks over my body as I finger my cum-loaded cunt.

  “I love you too, Sofie,” Eli says.

  I wonder if he’s ever said it to anyone before. Judging by the look on his face, he’s as surprised to say it as I am to hear it.

  “I love you, Sofie,” Lucas echoes with a lopsided smirk. “And your big, pretty tits too.”

  I look to Oliver, who’s currently staring at my fingers moving in and out of my pussy with a snarl on his lips. He looks close to orgasm. So am I.

  But when he catches me looking at him, waiting with anticipation, he laughs and shakes his head.

  “Of course I love you, Sofie. You’re a smart girl. Don’t be an idiot.”

  We share a smile. It’s the infectious kind. I know, because quick enough, Lucas and Eli are smiling, too.

  “Come for us, Sofie,” someone says. I don’t know who.

  Then, an echo: “Moan for us. Give us that orgasm, darlin’.”

  And again: “Come, babe. You need this. Fucking come.”

  Every muscle in my body tenses and releases, like it’s even fucking possible for them to do that all at once. The orgasm thrashes through my nervous system. It pulls all my circuits from their sockets and plugs them back in at all the wrong places, upside down and with the wires crossed.

  I can hear colors. I can see emotions. I can taste the sound of Eli, Oliver, and Lucas orgasming over me: cheesecake and salted caramel.

  My eyes raise to the mirror above me, and I watch it all in my reflection: every thick, perfect ribbon of cum splaying over my body, splashing down on me, and sizzling against my skin. Every pump of all three cocks being milked of their rich, salty seed.

  Every second, like time has slowed specifically to accommodate
my pleasure.

  As these men—my three men, who all fucking love me—as their shoulders heave over me and their cocks twitch in an excess of orgasmic tension, I can’t help it.

  I wrap my arms around my cum-covered body and I hug myself, smiling up at my reflection and loving what I’ve become.

  A slut, maybe.

  Actually, a slut definitely.

  But a smart slut.

  A beautiful slut.

  A slut who lives in a mansion with enough lab equipment and funding to someday save the world, one BioKin project at a time.

  And a slut who’s loved. Oh, man, I’m loved big time, and boy, do they make me feel it. First with their cum all over my body, and then with their bodies all diving on top of me as we roll around in their cum.

  “We’re going to need a new comforter,” Eli laughs as we all slip and slide together.

  “More like a cum-forter now,” I say, dissolving into giggles.

  My men all laugh at my shitty joke.

  Thank god.

  Apparently, I’m a funny slut, too.

  Sofie

  My phone buzzes.

  I look up from my textbook and turn off the reminder alarm. With a sigh, I close the book. I lean back in my chair and wait for the pain in my neck to subside.

  Leaning over a desk and reading a book always strains the back of my neck. I turn my head to the left and then to the right, shaking it off gently and loosening the stiffness.

  When the pain eases off, I lift my arms up over my head and stretch. Feels fucking good. I sigh.

  My eyes find the computer and I check my emails.

  On the screen, I see the little box reminding me of my upcoming appointment.

  Meeting with bosses, it says in the box. I’ve written it in red. I smile. It’s such a little thing but it leaves me grinning whenever I look at it.

  I’ve got fifteen minutes before the scheduled meeting. Is it enough for a quick cup of coffee? I bite my bottom lip.

  If I want one, I need to get it now, as opposed to dwell on it for like the next fucking hour.

  With a sigh, I get off my chair and head to my little personal coffee machine. I press the buttons on the silver beast and wait.

  I look around my little office. Emphasis on little, but at least I have my own fucking office.