“I told you I’d been selected,” she said, but she dropped her arms, and I felt like she was listening.
“And I tried to look for you, even though I had no idea how I’d possibly know which woman was you,” I said. I was still not sure how I’d known, how I’d been so drawn to her unless it really was fate and I had to start believing in romantic ideas after all.
“But you found me,” she said.
“I did,” I said, cupping her face in my hands, just for a moment. She closed her eyes briefly at my touch, lids fluttering shut. I wanted to kiss her but didn’t yet. I dropped my hands, and her eyes followed them like she hadn’t wanted me to stop touching her.
“But the things I said to you, the things you know about me,” Ella said, eyes locked on mine now, “they’re hardly something that a proper lady, that royalty says. Don’t you want someone who--”
“I want you,” I said, cutting her off and shaking my head. “Fuck proper, Ella. I want you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I thought,” she started, before trailing off and biting her perfect pink lips.
“I love you,” I said, grabbing her hands in mine. “I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.”
“I love you,” she said, squeezing my hands tightly and stepping in closer to me, “and I’ve been yours. From the start.”
“You told me once you were done running,” I said. I thought about getting down on one knee, asking her what I was about to ask more formally, kissing her hand, but neither of us was really traditional. Maybe that was why we worked so well together. Why we seemed to fit together. “So stop. And marry me.”
“I think I want to,” she said, making me feel like my heart was filling up my entire chest, like my rib cage was just the beating of my heart as I looked at Ella. “I do want to. Yes, I’ll marry you, Tristan.”
“I love you,” I said again, pulling her in and finally kissing her, feeling her sigh against me, her arms coming up around my neck, her mouth opening against mine.
“I never thought this could happen,” she said, lips a breath away from mine.
“Believe it,” I told her, kissing her as fully, as forcefully as I could. “And Ella, I want you to know that you never have to be embarrassed about anything you want. I would love to do everything we talked about online, and I would love it if you spent the rest of our lives telling me every filthy, sexy thought that comes into that brilliant head of yours.”
“I can do that,” she said, kissing me again. I meant it, I wanted nothing else at that moment but to spend the rest of my life loving her and making every day amazing for her.
Chapter Nineteen - Ella
Tristan pulled me into him the minute we arrived back at the palace and were shut behind the doors of his bedroom. He kissed me hard, my body flush against his. I could feel how hard he was, his erection pushing against my thigh, and I whimpered into his mouth. I needed him. Now that everything was in the open, now that I knew he had been Frederick all along and that everything between us had been real, I wanted him more than ever. I loved him.
We pulled each other’s clothes off desperately, like the days since we’d seen each other had been years and we had been starving without touching one another. I ran my hands over him, the muscles in his arms, the lines of his chest and abs, still hardly believing that this man wanted me. That he loved me.
“Tell me,” he said with a smirk against my mouth, stepping out of his pants, “about all those times you told me dirty, filthy things online.”
“What about them?” I asked, shivering as his fingers traced my hip bones.
“I know you touched yourself, rubbed your clit and fucked yourself with your fingers talking to me,” he said, making me gasp and flush.
“Yes, all the time,” I said. I didn’t feel shame or embarrassment at all now. I felt safe, like around Tristan, everything I wanted was going to be given to me.
“Show me,” he said, low and commanding, making me shudder, “right now. Touch yourself while I watch.”
“Yes,” I breathed. I laid back on the bed, feeling Tristan’s eyes burning into me.
“I want you on display for me,” he said. “Want you to show me exactly what you used to do when you told me your fantasies.”
“Watch,” I said, tracing my own hand down myself, pressing my fingers into my already dripping-wet folds. I groaned, feeling electric like I hadn’t in the time we’d been apart. With his eyes on me like this, my hand didn’t even feel like my own. Touching myself, rubbing hard circles on my own clit, like I had done so many times before, felt brand new, even thrilling.
“I used to get off to your words, stroking my cock right there while we were talking,” he said, voice still so low it made heat pool in my stomach.
“God,” I managed, already so close.
“You’re going to make yourself come, and then I’m going to fuck you and make you come again,” he said. It was everything I had ever wanted to hear. It was more because Tristan was saying it, and everything about him was more than I knew to want.
I rubbed myself over and over, fingers slippery as I slid them over my folds. It felt so good to be laid out for him like this, his eyes watching my own fingers on my clit, just for him.
“Yes, please,” I said, “I need you.”
“You look so fucking pretty like this, touching yourself for me, so beautiful,” Tristan said. I flushed a deep red that spread through all of me. I wanted to hear him talk to me like that forever.
He leaned over, kissing me as I touched myself, running his tongue over my mouth, licking my lips before pulling back, eyes intent on my hand. He reached out and cupped my breast in his hand, squeezing.
“Come for me, come now, so I can fuck you like I know you want me to,” he ordered.
I crashed about a second later, gasping into my hand, still so exposed, on such display for him.
“Best thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” he said, before kissing me again. He eased himself all the way over me, spreading my legs out.
“Please, please, I need you inside me,” I said, watching him run his hand over his cock a few times before bringing it toward me. He teased the head over my clit, making me cry out, before guiding it down to my entrance.
“I never want you to stop saying please like that,” he said, sliding inside me. It was still so much. I had to breathe through it, like before, but once he was in, it was just as incredible, even more than last time.
“I never will,” I promised. He moved in me, thrusting, harder than before, quicker and harder than the first time, more desperate. I gasped.
“Tristan,” I said, like a question, like a request. I wanted him to fuck me harder, as hard as he wanted. Wanted to see how much I could take. He rocked in and out of me in deep, hard strokes, making me cry out every time, so good and so much. I pressed my hips up into his, still wanting more.
“Look at you,” he said, putting a hand on my hips like he wanted to feel them moving up into him. “You can’t stay still.”
“I want you too much. This feels so good,” I said. He grinned at me and shifted, putting his whole body on the bed and then sliding out of me. I whimpered, but he shook his head.
“I want to see you on top of me, riding my cock,” he said. I gasped again. He knew how many times I’d thought about this, about taking a man inside myself this way, rolling my hips down on him over and over, grinding on him, desperate and needy.
He laid back on the bed and motioned for me. I climbed over him and he held his cock in his hand, getting ready to help guide it inside of me. I spread my legs over him and shifted down, sinking on top of him.
“Oh my god, Tristan,” I said. I felt like I had taken him even deeper, even further inside of me this way. He put his hands on my hips and started lifting me, moving me up and down on him, fucking me hard again right away.
“You look like you were made to be there,” he said, still using his own hands to bounce me on top of him. I could hard
ly breathe, could hardly think. I planted my knees and started moving my own hips in his hands, raising myself up and down, feeling every inch of him inside me every time I sank down on him. I moved faster and faster, feeling delirious and heady with it. His hands stayed firm on my hips, and he rolled up into me, meeting my grinding with his own thrusts.
“Oh, that feels so fucking good,” I said, throwing my head back as I rode him, as he fucked up into me. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to do so many more things, wanted to try everything I could with Tristan.
“Fuck, Ella,” Tristan said, getting flushed, looking at me like he couldn’t believe I was real. He moved a hand from my hips to touch my clit, and it only took a few circles before I was careening over the edge, crashing and shattering. He came inside me as the waves of my own orgasm tore through me, making them feel even more intense.
I climbed off him slowly and he opened his arms and pulled me in close, kissing me over and over as we both came down.
“I missed you,” I told him, “so much.”
“I missed you,” he said, kissing my forehead. “You have no idea how much I missed you, Ella.”
“I can’t wait to marry you,” I said, meaning it, marveling at what a difference a day could make.
“I didn’t think I could be this happy,” he whispered, and I melted into him, sinking down into his chest and just letting myself feel it all: him, this moment, my own happiness.
I never wanted to move again.
Chapter Twenty - Tristan
I had never looked forward to my wedding day, but spinning my bride around while a crowd watched, gasping and whispering about how we were perfect together, I felt better than I ever had. The grand ballroom was decked out in decorations I’d had custom-made just for us. They centered on the new large art piece I’d bought as one of my wedding gifts to Ella. The room had never looked more majestic.
Ella was radiant in my arms, looking so damn beautiful in her wedding dress that I kept losing my breath looking at her. The dress was an ivory shade of white, standing out against her glowing skin, which looked today as though she had somehow made it sparkle. I couldn’t wait to spend hours exploring it later, going slow, taking it inch by inch. The dress was cut for a princess, floor length with a full skirt and scooped at the neck to frame her collarbones and the top swell of her cleavage. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling, and I imagined I looked the same, unable to stop grinning down at the amazing woman who was now my wife.
Around us, the whole kingdom had turned out for the party and celebration. Everywhere I looked, there were revelers, applauding and wishing us well. I spent my whole life so hidden, only seen by my officials, my staff. Being the center of attention now, with Ella in my arms, was a rush. I had always thought I didn’t care much about public opinion, but today I wanted everyone to see how happy Ella and I were. I wanted them all to know.
The papers and all the local media had been thrilled at the news, proclaiming us the couple of the year and interviewing us both, taking hundreds of pictures in the past week. We’d been asked so many questions and told over and over what a beautiful couple we made. Neither of us had ever given media interviews, and I thought Ella handled them even better than I did, showing that same grace she had during the diplomat lunch. We told story after story, little anecdotes about each other that the press ate up and the people seemed to love. We kept most of the real story to ourselves, our secret, hidden between us and making our bond stronger.
The people loved her already. All of Ladoria seemed as charmed by her as I was. The whole palace was brighter with her in it, the whole country more at peace. She was like a missing piece, the missing ingredient I’d always needed in my life. I couldn’t quite believe we’d made it here, to our wedding day. I couldn’t believe I was this happy, this in love. I couldn’t believe Ella was mine, and that I was hers, forever. I had broken the law to get here, but I was damn sure it was the best choice I had ever made.
“I’m so glad you came to find me,” Ella said, spinning in my arms, pressed so close to me as we danced that I could feel her heart beating.
“I’m glad you stopped running,” I said, smiling at my bride.
“I love you,” she whispered, kissing me softly.
“I love you too,” I told her, pulling her in even tighter. I couldn’t wait to spend my life with Ella, loving her, making sure she was happy and safe and secure, always. She was the one for me, the only one, I was certain. Maybe it all had been fate, leading us all the way from Facebook to this exact moment, to this first dance as husband and wife.
If anyone could make me believe in fate and happy endings, it was Ella.
*****
THE END
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Charlize Starr
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Description
“Without manners, we all turn into animals,” he said.
“And what’s wrong with animals?” she whispered.
Sylvia
All my life I’ve been on my guard, looking over my shoulders because my dad’s a mobster. And now he has made me a prisoner in one of his friend’s homes. Fedor Volkov, the big Russian mafia boss.
I expected a cold-hearted monster, but he’s sexy as hell with a beard that sets my belly on fire. He stands for everything I despise, yet I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him to be the one to take my virginity. Especially since that would royally piss off my dad.
But I got way more than I bargained for...
Fedor
Every two years I take a vacation in my holiday home, alone. But this time, Will Stern has begged me to take in his daughter and protect her against his enemies. I couldn’t say no. Will is one of my best friends.
I didn’t expect her to be all grown up, though, a sexy young twenty-three-year-old with endless legs and a cleavage to drive me mad. But I can’t break the code, I am her guardian. I know I should stay away from her, but it’s almost like she’s out to make me fall.
How much longer can I resist?
Chapter One - Sylvia
“I don’t understand what the need for this is!” Sylvia stood aside while her father threw open the doors of her cupboard and started flinging clothes into a large duffle bag that he had brought with him.
“Think of this as a vacation, sweetie,” Will Stern said, barely looking at his daughter while he continued the task at hand - packing his daughter’s belongings.
“A vacation? I don’t need a vacation, dad! I just got done with college. I need to find a job.” Sylvia took a few steps in her father’s direction, trying to follow him around the room, but he now laid an arm on her dresser and just swept all her makeup and boxes of little trinkets into the bag. Sylvia shrieked with fright.
“Be careful with those, dad!” she yelled, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He had only one thing on his mind, and he didn’t look like he was going to take a break.
“I’ll get you a job when you come back. It’s just for a couple of weeks. It’ll be a nice break for you, after all the hard work you’ve put into your studies. You’ve never been to Puerto Rico,” Will said, finally zipping up the bag. He thought he had packed everything, but Sylvia had already made mental notes of all the stuff that he hadn’t put in - her shoes, the scarves, her prized collection of perfumes.
“Okay, dad,” she said softly, hoping that a gentler approach might work better. She walked towards him as he stood bent over the duffle bag and put a hand on his shoulder. Will Stern wh
ipped around with a crazed look in his eyes.
“Dad, I thought those days were behind us,” Sylvia asked, the color rising in her cheeks. She was so tired of this. All her childhood had been spent running away, hiding, always looking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. It was what had killed her mother. All that nerve wracking will to survive, to live. Her father had been a small-timer then, he worked for someone else, one of the Russian mob bosses. But now that he had a gang of his own, his own security, his own source of income, Sylvia thought that those days of looking over their shoulders were over. That their lives were never going to be in danger anymore.
“It’s never truly behind us,” Will said, sitting down at the edge of her bed with a thump. He looked exhausted.
Sylvia put her hands on her hips, standing with her legs apart. She could feel the rage rising up her shoulders, she was exhausted too. When would she ever be able to lead a normal life?
“You have the money now, dad. You can pay off people. Frighten them…I don’t know what. You can do something. You don’t have to run away!” Sylvia breathed in deeply, nearly pleading with her father. She didn’t want to leave New York. Not when she was just beginning her job hunt. No matter what promises her father made, the kind of work he’d find her was not the kind of work she wanted to do. She wanted to get away from the mob world, away from the world of money laundering and thugs and stories about people getting killed or beaten to pulp for not paying their dues.
The Prince’s Virgin Page 7
