Pretend Princess With Benefits: A Royal Fake Marriage Romance

by Lara Swann

  “I fucking love you too, Alana.” I murmur it against her hair, and she freezes in my arms, her head wrenching up to look at me.

  If I wasn’t so caught up in it all, I’d laugh at the expression on her face - but instead, I lean in and kiss her. Hard. Desperate. Like I can’t take another moment without her lips on mine.

  She resists for one brief moment, and then suddenly she’s kissing me back just as hard. I can taste the salt of her tears at the edges of her lips, and it’s a messy, wet thing, but there’s nothing I want more right now than her heat against mine.

  Everything that was tense and unhappy and empty inside me suddenly fills with a desire hotter than I’ve ever known and I groan with the power of it.

  My hard cock presses against her as if it had never left while we clutch at each other - hard and unforgiving, strong hands demanding more, more, more.

  “Fuck, Caleb.” Alana grunts out, still sounding pissed. “You have a fucking terrible way…of showing it.”

  I lift her easily in my arms, and her legs come around me without thinking, her fingers clutching my shoulders and scratching down my bare back.

  “Then…let me…fix that…” I murmur, pressing her back against the wall, the loud thump there only matching my solid heartbeat.

  I can barely believe this is happening, but it doesn’t matter - I’ve got her in my arms again. Finally. At last.

  And she doesn’t fucking hate me.

  Or, at least, she loves me too. And she’s talking to me. And kissing me. And…

  “God damn it, Caleb.” She groans out, rubbing herself against my hard cock and sucking my lips in between hers. “You are such an asshole.”

  I grunt in acknowledgment, too distracted by the way her hips are grinding close to me, nearly making my head explode from the sudden, insistent need.

  “I…would…never…” She pants, in between hard, fast kisses, “Have…fallen…for…this…”

  My tongue is too tangled with hers to try and answer and I tear at the thin night shirt she’s wearing, hearing it rip satisfyingly and fall to the floor before she moans and arches up into me.

  “That was a fucking nice…shirt…” Her breath catches as my mouth comes down on her breasts, sucking desperately.

  The feel of her hard tits in my mouth again is almost too much, and I press her hard against the wall, my tongue flicking and darting between them, teeth teasing and playing. She cries out against me, hands clutching at my hair, the sharp edge of pain only driving me further.

  We’re rough with it, but we need to be - there’s too much between us. I can still feel her anger and hurt surrounding us - my own guilt and frustration adding to it.

  “I would always have fallen for you, baby. Fuck it, I couldn’t deal with not having this.” I say roughly.

  It’s not a declaration of love - it’s a reluctant admission of something I didn’t even know I could feel. But it’s impossible to deny. And I don’t even want to. Not when she’s in my arms, moving like this - her now bare pussy hovering over my hard cock.

  “I can’t believe what you’ve…done to me, Caleb.” She mutters, half-resentful, half-desperate. “I fucking need you too.”

  Then she pulls my head back, our eyes meeting in a flash of lust and so much more. She leans in and nips at my lips, before growling against me.

  “Tell me you’re real Caleb. That I know who the fuck you are. I can’t…I can’t do this otherwise.” She insists, and I press her back against the wall again, my mouth nipping and licking and sucking at the tops of her breasts, working alone her collarbone to her neck.

  “You know who I am, Alana.” I look up, meeting her eyes. Determined to give her something after all I’ve put her through. “You were the first fucking person to ever know.”

  She shudders against me, gasping at the words, and I can’t wait anymore. I lift her just a little, and when she comes down - it’s to seat herself on my cock, taking all of it in one slick, easy motion.

  We groan together, our heads coming close again to kiss and tear at each others’ bodies, while my hips work hard, thrusting deep inside her.

  It’s been so fucking long, I can’t speak. I can’t say how good it is or what I want to do with it - with her - at all. All I can do is grunt and grasp and fuck and touch and bury myself inside her. Again and again and again.

  It’s not elegant or slow or romantic - it’s a violent explosion of a desperate need that’s been building far too long. It’s rough and angry and everything we haven’t said to each other over the last few days.

  “Fucking…bastard…” She mutters again, but the more she says it, the more it becomes an endearment. Affectionate. Amused.

  “Beautiful girl.” I whisper back, no longer hesitant to say exactly what I’m feeling. “My perfect girl.”

  She moans, and I can feel her pussy contract around me as she starts to get close. I run my hands over her breasts, kissing her deeply again as I increase the pace, feeling my own need surging higher and higher.

  “I’ve fucking missed this.” I grunt as her breathing becomes more erratic.

  “Me…too. Should never have…stopped talking to me.” She murmurs back, barely focused.

  “I know. I wanted to tell you - everything.” I start, but her mouth covers mine and anything else I might have said is cut off. I can’t think about explanations and apologies now anyway. I moan and shift against her.

  “Fucking…need…it.” She demands, her kiss getting heavier and less focused as her focus turns inward, on the way I’m pressing forward, hitting her sweet spot every time.

  “Oh, god, Caleb…” She pants, and I have a moment of elation as I lose myself in it all - as I stop trying to think, trying to talk, and just give into the passion I thought I’d never get to see again.

  I wrap my arms around her, drawing her away from the wall and step quickly over to the bed. She writhes and twists in my arms, not convinced at the interruption of our natural rhythm when she’s so close and needs it so badly - but then I have her down against the bed and I’m there on top of her, thrusting deep and pounding into her the exact way she needs it.

  Her pussy contracts around me a moment later and she screams - the only thing I need to send me hurtling over my own edge, my hard cock pumping furiously against her beautiful, shuddering pussy.

  It feels like the pleasure goes on forever - like it will never stop - every nerve in my body reacting and responding to what we just did. By the time I get control of myself again, I’m barely holding myself up above her, but I still can’t help but take the time to lean down, to kiss and nuzzle at her blissed-out expression.

  When she finally stirs, I move us until we’re both in the bed, curled up around each other as we were only a long week ago.

  I pull her into my arms and clasp them hard around her, my heart beating at a rate that echoes the disbelief in my mind.

  Everything is too hazy to work out how the fuck I just got her back - but I know I’m not going to let her go again. Not for anything.

  She relaxes against me and a few moments later I can hear her breathing start to even out in sleep.

  I don’t even try to join her. This is too fucking special to miss out on.

  She loves me.

  And fuck it, somehow you love her too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alana

  I wake up slowly in Caleb’s eyes, looking up through bleary eyes to see him already awake.

  It takes me a moment to work out where I am, what I’m doing - and then to remember last night - and I’m immediately unsure how I feel about it. Apart from the physical release and satisfaction, anyway.

  But the way he’s looking at me…

  “You’re smiling.” I say stupidly, my fingers reaching up to trace his lips.

  But he is…in a way I haven’t seen before. Not arrogant or cocky or amused. Just smiling. His expression open and—

  “I’m happy.” He says lightly, leaning in to kiss me, “I’m not s
ure I even knew what that was, until I lost it the last few days.”

  I kiss him back, feel the way I relax instinctively into him, but I can’t quite fight the instinctive unease. I remember the passion and pleasure of last night - the release of so many different kinds of tension…but after everything that happened?

  How can that be enough?

  “Caleb…” I say, stopping him before he can deepen the kiss and we get carried away…as we always do. “What is this?”

  I look up at him, meeting his eyes - but even they’re different. Sparkling and open as he smiles down at me.

  In answer, he takes my hand and kisses it, “I love you, Alana.”

  That simple statement takes my breath. I know he said it last night…but last night was different. And after spending so much time with him closed off and unassailable, the idea that he’d just openly state that…it’s hard to believe.

  And intoxicating. Absolutely seductive and impossible to resist.

  I feel myself sink further into his embrace, relishing the warm muscles of his body, the light friction of skin against skin.

  Even if I don’t quite know what it all means.

  He starts to kiss me again, and I give into it for a few long, blissful moments. But my head won’t shut up.

  “What about…everything else?” I wave vaguely around us.

  “What about it?” He murmurs back.

  I bite my lip. I’m not sure I want to talk about it all - especially with him. But when he asks, I can’t help myself.

  I’ve spent the last few days alternating between rage and heartache, trying to work out what all this means for my life - and what the hell to do about it. I haven’t reached many conclusions, but some are non-negotiable. And Caleb…Caleb complicates things.

  If I can even forgive him.

  But every moment I spend around him, I feel myself getting closer to that. The fear and anger and hurt of betrayal slowly slipping away. That shouldn’t be possible - there’s some perverse part of me that thinks he should have to suffer more, do something, win me over…I can’t just act like everything he did is okay. But so much of it is disturbingly okay, that I don’t know quite where that leaves me.

  You love him. Fuck it. And you even told him.

  I start chewing on my bottom lip and bury my head in his chest again. I don’t know how any of this is going to work.

  “What is it, baby?” Caleb strokes my hair back behind my ear - the gesture so achingly familiar that I shudder.

  Oh, fuck it.

  I look up at him, considering, and for the first time let myself explore the idea of him. With me. Us.

  The thing I wanted so innocently only a week ago, that now means something entirely different.

  “After this is over, I don’t want anything to do with it, Caleb - my father, the mob, any of it.” I finally say. It’s at least partly a challenge.

  A ‘so how does this work?’.

  But it doesn’t bother him. He just leans in and kisses my forehead, nodding.

  “After you, maybe I don’t either.” He responds, as casually as if he isn’t talking about giving up his whole life.

  “Really?” I frown and look up at him. “That easy?”

  He shrugs, “Well, not quite that easy. There are certain…reasons…it might be hard for me to leave. But I’m damn well going to try.”

  “My father.” I say immediately, the things he said the other day immediately flashing through my mind, making me uneasy. I look up at him again. “What you said…about him. You…didn’t actually mean that, did you?”

  Caleb doesn’t say anything to that, but he meets my eyes, and that’s answer enough. I can’t quite believe it - not my father - but the more I’ve thought about it…the more I’ve thought about what actually being a mob boss would mean…

  I shudder at the idea of him doing something like that - to Caleb - and Caleb holds me closer.

  “What’s…what’s he like? My father?” It’s an inane question to ask, but it’s been circling in my head these last few days.

  Who is this man I’m supposed to know?

  “He’s…very good at what he does.” Caleb says quietly, and doesn’t elaborate.

  I wonder who he’s trying to protect - my father or me. And then I think about it for a moment, and decide that maybe it’s for the best - maybe I don’t want to know.

  “How about you? You’re…a killer, right? Are you…good at what you do?” The questions are so uncomfortable to ask or think about, but I can’t help it. I can’t get the contrast of who he is out of my head.

  He doesn’t shy from it though, kissing my forehead as he answers. “I was, yes.”

  Was.

  He really is serious about giving it up.

  I bite my lip again and finally say what’s on my mind. “I don’t - I don’t like that Caleb.”

  I’ve never thought about it before in my life - my stance on killers, mobsters, thugs…whatever you want to call them…has always been so clear and unambiguous I’ve never needed to give it any thought.

  Bad people. Wrong. Criminals.

  Now…it’s a little more murky, but it’s still there. And I can’t quite work out how to deal with the fact that I’m in love with a killer.

  “I know.” His voice is soft, gentle, and his hands move lightly over my skin as we talk.

  Even with the dark subject, the knowledge of who - what - he is…my body shifts further into his, relaxing against the firm strength of his muscles.

  Is it enough that he’s giving it up? That he won’t be a killer anymore? Does that make up for whatever he’s done in the past?

  I’m not sure, but I’ve always claimed to believe that people can change - that they deserve to be allowed the chance to.

  I’m silent for a long moment, and then I find his hand, twining his fingers in mine, and give him a little smile.

  “We’ll face my father together - when it comes.” I say.

  For the first time since I woke up, I feel him hesitate, but he nods anyway, remaining silent.

  I’m not sure how long we lie like that, everything trying to settle in my mind, like pieces of a puzzle with too many rough, sharp edges. Not quite comfortable. Not quite okay. But…with a feeling it might fit together at some point.

  “Do I really know who you are, Caleb?” I break the silence a while later, enjoying being able to simply voice everything that’s on my mind. There’s something strangely comfortable between us at the moment, feeling like he’s open and accessible for the first time. “I still don’t know anything about you - not really.”

  “What do you want to know?” He murmurs against the top of my head.

  “Everything.” I say automatically.

  “Okay, then I’ll tell you.” He responds, kissing me.

  “What, now?” I blink at him. How did it all start feeling so easy?

  He laughs, a warm, pleasant sound. “There’s nothing else to do here - nothing but enjoy ourselves and talk.”

  His hand starts wandering again, reminding me what he means by enjoy ourselves, and I lean into his touch, my own hands and mouth starting to do the same.

  It’s strange to wake up with the whole day ahead of me, just for…this.

  “What about this guy, though?” I finally ask. “The one threatening me - don’t you have to do something?”

  “Hun, if he comes near, he’s fucking dead. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.” Caleb growls in my ear, and it sends a warm feeling shooting through me. “But…your father’s dealing with that. All I’m supposed to be doing is keeping you in the safehouse…and don’t sex and conversation sound like fucking fantastic ways to do that?”

  I laugh at that, unexpected, but a different kind of release from all the explosive sobbing of the last few days.

  “Still working for my father?” I tease, surprised I even feel ready to go there - but it’s at least partly a dig.

  He winces, and I get some small satisfaction from that, before he take
s my chin and kisses me deeply, meeting my gaze. “I think I stopped working for your father the moment I fell in love with you. But for the moment…it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances. And it just so happens, I agree with him on the keeping you safe point.”

  “Mmhmm…” I murmur, kissing him back. “And we could be here for weeks, right?”

  “If it’s anything like how the rest of this has gone - weeks and weeks…” He nibbles at my lips.

  “Shit.” I say suddenly, pulling back. “I’m going to be so behind on lectures. Are you sure this wasn’t just a plan to get me in bed with nothing else to do for a while?”

  He laughs, “That’s my girl. You’re definitely feeling better if you’re back to thinking about that again.”

  I grumble at him, and he kisses me again. Deep and passionate and with such a sweet longing.

  I never thought it would feel this easy between us again.

  And when the kisses subside, he does what he said he would - he starts telling me everything.

  His childhood, being raised and taught by his father, his life in the mob…the words flow into touches and kisses and passion, and back into words again, as we do exactly what he promised.

  Sex and conversation.

  My two new favorite activities.

  Chapter Twenty

  Caleb

  I listen to the sound of boiling water, humming a little as I fetch mugs and root around in the cupboard for tea.

  I’m actually fucking humming.

  It’s a joke - utterly ridiculous - but I can’t shake it. I feel high and I haven’t even touched drugs since I got to North Carolina.

  It’s just Alana. Just the stunning woman currently warming the bed upstairs, waiting for me to crawl back in with her and hold her close again.

  Even with the sickness bug she picked up yesterday, she’s still as passionate and fiery as ever. And I’m ridiculously happy just to be making tea, holding her and taking care of the woman I love - spending the morning lying together in bed until she feels better.

  It still doesn’t feel like me, but I don’t care. This is the first time I’ve ever had anything like this - and I’m not going to stop and question it. I spent too long conflicted about my feelings for Alana, and now that I know…I’m not giving her up. Not for a moment.