The King's Virgin Bride

by Natalie Knight

  Before she can push me away, I slide my hand around her waist and pull her against me. Luckily, she falls into step and follows my lead.

  “I can’t tell if you’re being especially forward or if I’m just drunk.”

  “From the looks of things, both.”

  “I suppose you do have a reputation to uphold.”

  My smile broadens. She knows exactly the kind of reputation I’ve upheld—all ten hard, thick, throbbing inches of it.

  What can I say? The royal scepter is royally famous.

  “And how are you and your reputation doing these days?” she asks.

  She seems genuinely curious. It’s refreshing, considering I know half of these people don’t give a rat’s ass about what I’m doing or how I’ve been. All they care about is their free food and booze—and the possibility of shagging someone with a title.

  Speaking of…where is Ignorma?

  Ah, who the fuck cares. Just so long as this beauty is in my arms. It won’t be for long—I might as well enjoy this dance while it lasts.

  We glide across the dance floor seamlessly. It’s like we’re floating on air. It’s ridiculous, I know, but when you have a woman this beautiful in your arms, that’s what it fucking feels like.

  Like magic. Like heaven.

  “Things have been good, considering,” I murmur. She cocks her eyebrow in confusion.

  “But I’m much better now that you’re here. How are you, love?” I feel her body tense underneath mine as the pet name falls out of my mouth.

  Funny. I guess we’re not on that level yet.

  When we were younger, Princess Gwen had zero qualms about stripping down to nothing but her underwear around her older brother and me when she wanted to play—tag, rugby, or otherwise. She always knew exactly how to tackle and take me down.

  I wonder if she still can. And in those heels…

  “You look amazing, by the way,” I whisper in her ear, and she instinctively bends her head towards me. I feel goosebumps rise on her exposed skin underneath my hand. “But I’m sure you’re already well aware of that.”

  “Thanks, love.” She teases me, and I love it. “Your little soiree sucks, by the way.”

  My body stills for a moment, amazed by her brazen honesty, and I laugh. I’ve always loved how sassy she was, but damn, it’s fucking sexy now.

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Her emerald eyes sparkle in a way that makes my cock throb.

  “I see that you’re occupying yourself with the refreshments, at least. Do they live up to your standards?” I raise an eyebrow and tighten my hands on her waist, my touch burning against her.

  She meets my eyes, and I see a glimmer in her eyes. “You can never go wrong with champagne. Did your fiancée order it?”

  I laugh when I hear her say that. Ignorma hasn’t done anything in her whole damn life, let alone make sure there’s champagne on the menu.

  I push her away, swinging her around in a circle. Her mouth widens in the most playful grin, and she giggles. The sound of her laugh, so pure and whole-hearted, has my cock even stiffer—and it’s been hard since the moment I saw her.

  I pull her back to me, and her perky, full breasts squeeze between us. I feel her hard nipples press through our clothes and against my abs.

  “Who taught you how to dance? Mr. Two-left Feet.” She laughs, looking so carefree.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Princess. I’ve changed a bit since the last time you saw me.”

  Her gaze quickly fills with lust, and I’m stuck, my eyes glued to hers.

  “I can see that. Too bad. I’m so used to the scrawny boy who I used to tackle, playing rugby. But I’m sure I can still beat you.” She winks and bites her lips suggestively.

  I smirk. Goddamn, she’s fucking fantastic. These past five minutes, with her in my arms, have been better than any fucking second I’ve spent with…whoever my fiancée is.

  Shit, I’m already forgetting her name.

  “You? Beat me? You might be all grown up, gorgeous, but I doubt that tiny frame of yours could take me down.” I scroll over her body, spinning her around again and taking her into my arms quicker than the last time.

  “Unless you ask nicely. I’d gladly let you tackle me,” I whisper in her ear, brushing my lips against her earlobe.

  She moans slightly—but stops herself. I can feel her body contract against mine when she does, and I grin inside, knowing that I’m affecting her the exact same way she’s affecting me.

  I know it’s not hard to see what her gorgeous self is doing to me. Her tight little body against mine and that sassy mouth of hers that drives me wild. She radiates sensuality.

  Fuck. I need to marry this woman.

  “I’m a bit rusty, I admit. I haven’t played in years, you know, since I…became a woman and such. Apparently, someone thought breasts don’t look good in rugby uniforms. As for a pussy…”

  She knows exactly what game she’s playing because I immediately envision her tits and cunt, naked and inviting.

  Whoever told her she wouldn’t look good in a rugby uniform was lying. But I have to admit…

  She’d look better out of one.

  The same goes for this dress she’s wearing, too.

  “If you’re interested in a game, Princess, I’m sure I could arrange one.”

  “I don’t play games, Your Majesty.” Grabbing onto the back of my head, her hand slides into my hair and gently tugs it. Her lips graze my ear, and she whispers, “But as for tackling…I wouldn’t mind a little refresher.”

  I keep her there, pinned to me. I want her to feel my voice vibrate through her. I want the heat of my breath to melt her panties right off of her tight, little royal cunt.

  “In that dress?” I ask, my curiosity now peaked.

  “Out of it, if you’d prefer.”

  My nose touches the small strap holding her breasts up, and her aroma intoxicates me—more than I already am. It’s a warm vanilla scent that intermingles with a touch of spice, and it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine, my cock pulsating against her.

  She shimmies her hips closer to me, angling my cock against her flat, slender stomach. She goes back up on tiptoe and moans in my ears as my hard shaft rubs against her pussy through her gown.

  Damn, she knows exactly what she’s doing. I’m a bit surprised given how young she is, but I don’t care. I’m just fucking impressed.

  If it wasn’t for this being my engagement party, I would fuck her right here and now. I’d push her against one of the columns and ravish her tight body until both our kingdoms have an heir.

  “But if you’d prefer…I’m used to playing in dresses.” She whispers, her breath heavy, almost panting. “And I’d love to do it again.”

  I move her away from me and eye her up and down, drinking in the red gown that’s stitched into her curves.

  “Tell me, how do you play in that dress, love?” I twirl her around, and her full pouty lips curve up into a salacious smirk.

  “Oh, love. I have my ways.” We glide across the dance floor, and I nod at her brother who’s staring at us, concern filling his expression.

  “Enlighten me. I’m very interested in learning all your dirty little secrets.”

  Who would’ve thought that the little princess I played with so many years ago would turn into this bombshell, making my cock hard as a fucking diamond while she teases me about fucking her? Hell, not me.

  By the way he’s eyeing us, apparently, not her brother, either.

  “It’s much better if I show you.” She squeezes my shoulders and slides her hand down my arms tightly. “Seeing is believing, isn’t it?”

  “I think it’d be best if we got out of here. It looks like some people don’t like the kind of showing we’re doing.”

  She looks at me, and I nod towards the direction of her brother. She turns her head to face him and sniffs indignantly.

  “If he doesn’t want to see, he sho
uldn’t look.” She smiles and nods at him, then turns back to me, her eyes darkened and clouded with desire. “But I’d love to get out of here.”

  I bend my head down to her, my lips inches away from her pink pouted lips. “If you let me in on your secrets, I’ll show every move I know, Princess. So…care to play?”

  “Why don’t you show me your throne room first?” Her eyes narrow in delight, and I take her hand before we get pulled away.

  I lead her to the throne room in the back of the room as quickly as possible.

  “You’re too fast!” She giggles as she tries to keep up with me, dodging people left and right and ignoring the noisy cynics.

  “I could say the same about you, Princess.”

  I’m wasting no time here. I need to have this damn woman—under me, over me, and filled with me. I don’t care how; it just needs to happen before I explode in front of this whole fucking palace.

  But I don’t just want to fuck her, I want to marry her.

  Tonight, on the night of my engagement, it seems I’ve met my bride.

  And while she’s not the one I’m supposed to be marrying…

  She fucking will be.

  Chapter 4

  Gwen

  Okay, so yeah, maybe I’m a little drunk, but it’s definitely not the alcohol that’s telling me that Edward is hot as fuck.

  And speaking of fuck, that’s exactly what I hope we’re off to do right now.

  Once we’re out of sight of the partygoers, Edward takes me up into his arms and carries me through the throne room to the sound of my exhilarated laughter.

  The way he effortlessly cradles me against his chest brings to my attention just how strong he’s gotten.

  Looks like I’m not the only one who’s all grown up now.

  I glance up at him from my position nestled against his chest.

  Oh, fuck.

  He’s so hot, too. Edward has always been handsome, but now, he’s smoking hot. I feel my skin burning just from being in his embrace.

  I imagine those thick, clever fingers of his trailing against my naked skin, playing with me, teasing me, and then…

  “You look a little flushed, Princess. Something filthy on your mind distracting you from the present?”

  Edward quirks an eyebrow when my face grows redder in response.

  God, he’s too sexy.

  “I’m just anticipating what comes next.”

  “I’m inclined to believe that you come next, love…and then me.”

  Oh, that is smooth.

  Ever the prince charming this man—except he’s not a prince; he’s a king and even fucking better.

  To be honest, before I saw King Edward standing right in front of me, I was resolved to make the match with the Marquis de Roach work. I wasn’t happy about it by any means—to be honest, I’m not sure that any woman would be—but I was willing to do what I had to do as long as it meant honoring tradition and making my family proud.

  Ugh. Well, maybe not whatever I had to do. I’m certainly not planning on sleeping with my betrothed, but I suppose that’s what flings are for, though—when your arranged marriage is to a man whose name befits the way he acts.

  I suppose King Edward’s name also befits the way he acts: strong, dominant, hot as hell, and charming.

  Recalling the moment I saw him, whatever plans I had for my life with the Marquis de Roach flew right out the fucking window.

  Edward, King of Amore…I can’t take my eyes off him, and he wants me.

  I’m thrown out of my inner adoration as Edward drops me onto a chair. No, not a chair—his throne.

  I smile suggestively up at him as he looms over me, eyes roving up and down my entire figure. Edward is looking at me like he wants to devour me.

  I hope he fucking does.

  “This feels a bit dirty, doing it on the throne,” I murmur.

  “A throne for a princess. We need a setting that fits your filthy thoughts, don’t we?” Edward counters as he bends down to kiss me.

  It doesn’t take long for Edward’s tongue to enter my mouth, running the edge of it over my teeth before deepening the kiss, forcing my head back against the throne’s headboard with the sheer ferocity of the action.

  My body feels so tightly wound, I’m likely to snap and lose all self-control any moment now. Edward is driving me crazy.

  Down between my thighs, my pussy is fucking drenched.

  I arch my back up as I pull Edward towards me, rubbing the whole, hard cock of him against me, the friction only just strong enough for me to feel against my clit.

  I moan into his mouth.

  “Edward…fuck me. Hard. Now.”

  He breaks away from me with a smirk on his face.

  “Are you giving orders to a king, Princess Gwen?”

  “If it’ll get me what I want, then yes. I can add a please, if that works better for you.”

  Edward holds back a laugh at my suggestion. He takes hold of my hands and places it over his still-contained cock, rubbing against my fingers so that I become aware of just how big he is.

  I’ve never wanted something so badly in all my life.

  “Go ahead and beg then, Princess Gwen. Show me how badly you want it.”

  Edward’s expression is wicked as he slowly unbuttons his pants, guiding my hand to slide underneath his white boxers to meet his cock in the flesh.

  I’m so close to the tipping point already, and we haven’t even done anything yet.

  I keep my eyes on Edward’s as I gently, then more firmly, grasp onto his shaft and run my fingers up and down the length of it. To my satisfaction, Edward’s eyes roll back just a little before staring again at me.

  “Please, my king,” I begin, licking my lips to make them wetter and all the more inviting. “Please fuck me. I’m begging you. Tear off my dress and suck on my nipples and bite my neck and play with my clit until I’m coming all over your hand and—”

  Edward interrupts my manic, vocal train of thought by kissing me, biting into my bottom lip as his hands slide the straps of my dress and my bra down, exposing my breasts.

  “Beautiful…fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before dutifully sucking on one of my nipples while his hand fondles the other one, hard.

  My grip on his cock tightens instinctively, and I feel Edward buck closer towards me in reaction.

  I feel myself sliding down somewhat within the confines of the throne, so I wrap my legs around Edward’s waist to keep me in place.

  “I was hoping you’d do that,” he remarks, words somewhat muffled against my tit still in his mouth.

  He pushes my dress further up my legs until it’s gathered around my hips.

  “Just take it off, Edward. Take it off…”

  He leaves my tit to plant kisses along my neck. “Patience, my love. Have some patience.”

  Going by how his cock is reacting, I don’t imagine I’ll have to be patient for all that much longer. A deft flick of my wrist causes Edward to involuntarily moan against my skin.

  “You sure you’ve never done this with anyone before?” he asks as I find a faster rhythm to jerk him off.

  When I shake my head coyly, Edward responds by sliding a hand up my thigh then teasing my clit over the soaking material of my panties.

  I bite back a scream.

  “Edward, my king, please, please…”

  He ignores my begging as he continues to massage the swollen, sensitive skin of my clit over my panties, fingers getting faster as my own fingers increase in speed around the massive girth of his cock.

  His mouth finds mine again, so I run a hand through his hair to gain enough traction to rub the length of my body against him.

  “What will your fiancé think, with you trembling and moaning under another man’s body?” Edward murmurs into my ear when we break away from the kiss, gasping for breath.

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “He can go fuck himself. Or even better, fuck your fiancée, what’s-her-name.”

  “That
may as well be her name, for all I care.”

  Suddenly, Edward slips past my panties to touch my clit unimpeded, and he swallows the noise I make with his mouth.

  He’s too good at this. We’ve barely started, and I’m going to finish already.

  Desperately, I stroke his cock faster and faster, and I can hear from Edward’s breathing that he’s not likely to last long, either.

  So, I guess it’s a battle of wills: who’s going to come first?

  Except, in this battle, there are no losers—only sticky, breathless winners.

  But even through the pleasure of Edward’s fingers dancing on my clit, I can’t help but think one thing: how good it would be if he plunged all twelve inches of his king-sized cock deep into me, filling me to the brim and making me scream for the entire party to hear.

  Chapter 5

  Edward

  Gwen is far too good at giving a hand job for a girl who claims to have no experience, but the sweetness in her eyes tells me that it’s the truth.

  All the better for me, I guess. Her little virgin hands can service my royal cock any day of the week.

  I’ll be damned if that roach of a fiancé is getting anywhere near Gwen after this.

  I want to take her, make her come, violate her—all of her—now.

  I bring my head down and move my hand to the side to gently lick Gwen’s clit over her panties. The drenched silk is smooth and delicious against my tongue.

  Gwen whimpers. “I thought we were past teasing like that?”

  “I’ll be done when I say so. I’m the king, after all.”

  Gwen can’t continue jerking me off with my head between her legs, but that suits me just fine for now. I’m shockingly close to coming, and I’m not ready to, not yet.

  If I come, I want to come inside Gwen’s tight, virginal cunt.

  She wants to play with the king? Then she can give me an heir to seal the deal.

  Gwen lets out a noise of surprise as I pick her up and kneel on the throne, flinging her legs around my shoulders. The headboard of the throne supports her back, but she runs her hands through my hair, twisting strands through her fingers, too.

  “What are you—” Gwen begins, but her words are cut off as she gasps in response to me as I put my whole mouth against her pussy, lips and tongue teasing her hungrily.