Sexy Bachelor

by Maggie Monroe

  My hips tilted up with every pump of his glorious cock. Damon slid one hand from my ankle along my leg, coasting along my thigh and rounding over my ass. He pressed against the tiny ring of muscles on my backside. I zinged with a new wave of pleasure and pressure.

  Oh shit. Was he? Was he going to go there?

  I moaned, reveling in just how good it felt with the added pressure. His thumb breached my rosebud again. The sudden jolt of pain turned to pleasure as he eased out and in again.

  He bit his lips. “Fuck, I’m going to come hard.”

  I was there with him. Fighting to hold on to my orgasm, but it was pointless. I couldn’t resist how it felt to have him fill my pussy so fully while he stretched my forbidden zone. It was something I never knew before. I convulsed around him wildly.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  He pumped inside me. “Fuck, Molly.” His voice echoed in the room before his release hit him. Damon collapsed on top of me. Our bodies pulsing with violent aftershocks.

  I gasped for air.

  “Fuck, love.” Damon rolled next to me. His hands slapped against his chest. “I swear, I would rather have spent the last two days with you than that boring ass of a prime minister.”

  I laughed. “I believe you. I do.” I was completely convinced.

  He reached for my waist, pulling me on top of him.

  I looked into his sexy as sin eyes.

  “I hope you understand now, what it means to be summoned by the king.” He breathed heavily.

  “I think I’m starting to get it, Your Majesty,” I teased.

  ***

  When I awoke, it was still dark. The covers next to me were flat. I patted them with my eyes closed, searching for Damon under the sheets.

  I sat forward. He wasn’t in the bed. Or in the bathroom. I pulled one of his T-shirts over my head and walked into the apartment.

  I found him in the study. A banker’s light illuminated a small sphere on his desk. He was working in a pair of pajama pants.

  “Is this normal?” I asked, walking toward him. “Do kings work all hours of the night?”

  He frowned. “This one does.”

  I recognized the look on his face. It was the same one I wore when I was buried in research.

  “Is there a problem?” I sat on the edge of the desk.

  He looked up. “Nothing for you to worry about. I’ll come back to bed soon.”

  “It must be a big deal if you’re working this late. Or is it early?” I had no idea what time it was. “Maybe I can help,” I offered.

  He sat back in the chair. I could see the ridges of his abs. He folded his arms, his biceps bulged. He was unbelievable.

  “All right. Maybe you can come up with an idea to pass funding for my irrigation program.”

  I blinked. Was he serious? He was asking for my opinion on an official Galona matter. “Ok, what kind of irrigation?”

  “Olive groves,” he explained. “Spain is our top competitor. I know we could double our production with irrigation in these areas.” He pointed to locations on the map of rural areas of the country. “But half of my cabinet disagrees with allocating more funds to the groves. I need a majority for approval.”

  He looked at me, waiting for a suggestion.

  “Well, why don’t they want to fund it?” I needed more information.

  “They’d rather push the money into other areas. They don’t see the need to support the groves like I do.”

  “Hmm.” I twisted my lips together. “But the other half does support it?”

  “Yes. I’ve managed to convince half.” He exhaled. “The other bastards are stuck in the past. They don’t want agricultural upgrades. They claim we’ve never had them before, so why start now?”

  “That seems short-sighted.”

  “It is.”

  “What do the farmers say?” I questioned.

  “What do you mean?”

  I tugged on the hem on the T-shirt. There was no way it would come close to covering my thighs.

  “Well, have they spoken to your cabinet? Have they argued in an open hearing?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “No.”

  “Maybe try that?” I shrugged. I wasn’t a political analyst, and I didn’t pretend to be.

  He chuckled. “You make it sound so simple, Molly.”

  “Maybe it is.” I smiled. “If you can’t bring the farmers here, why not at least bring their stories to the cabinet?”

  “Personalize what they’re going through.” He nodded. “I think that’s exactly what they need. So many of the cabinet members have lost touch with the rural parts of the country. They’ve forgotten there is more to Galona than cities like Freychon. There are people who still work the land.”

  “I’m from a rural area in South Carolina. Our thing is peaches. Not olives, but still pretty important.”

  He chuckled lightly. “And this is how your peach farmers get things done?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me. He seemed to take my recommendation seriously.

  I shrugged, reaching for his hand, unfolding his arms. “Can we go back to bed?”

  He rose from the chair. “Why would we do that?” I saw the look in his eye.

  My breath caught. “I thought …”

  His fingers caught the edge of the shirt and tugged it over my arms. He threw it across the floor. He shoved the files he was working on, with one sweep of his arm. He circled his hands around my hips, spinning me to face his desk. I gulped when he pressed my breasts to the cold surface. He leaned over my back, turning the lamp off.

  I sighed when his hands ran along my sides, sinking into the curves of my waist.

  He shirked his pants to the floor.

  I jerked when I felt his fingers run between my legs. He rubbed my clit and I rocked into his hands. My hips, led by his rhythm. The deeper he massaged, the farther my feet separated, until my hips were angled for him.

  “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he groaned over my shoulder. “So wet. So perfect. So ready.”

  I nodded. “Please.” I was begging. Panting for him. I ached for him.

  There was one detail I knew we were both ignoring, but neither of us wanted to stop where this was headed. I felt the thick crown of his cock bare against my entrance and I moaned.

  It was like a steel rod. Skin against skin. I pushed back, ignoring the warnings in my head. I wanted to feel him fuck me with nothing between us. I had a birth control device. I could trust it.

  “Shit,” he hissed, sinking into me fully. He dug his fingers into my skin as he reared back and seared his cock inside my pussy again. I bucked at the fullness of him. It was numbing. Blinding.

  We lost control. Our bodies open to a new level of pleasure. Raw and rough. Unbound. Free. He rocked into me.

  “I’m going to come like this,” he growled, fucking me with heavy grunts.

  I gripped the desk, throwing myself into the moment.

  My orgasm attacked me quickly, seizing control of my muscles. I gripped his cock, but Damon pulled out, spilling his release on my back. I felt the heat of him drip along my skin.

  I exhaled, trying to hold myself up. I was completely exhausted.

  “Shit,” he whispered. “Hold on.”

  He used his discarded pants to wipe down my back. I felt the stickiness of my skin.

  He spun me in his arms, planting a kiss on my mouth.

  “I think it’s time I introduced you to the royal shower.”

  “I don’t know if I can stand,” I admitted.

  “No problem, love.” He scooped me up against his chest.

  “You like to carry me around.”

  He nodded, strolling through the residence. “I do.”

  I already knew he was strong. But there was something chivalrous in the way he held me to him. As if he wanted to protect me. As if he could shield me in some way. And in these tiny moments, I wanted to believe in the fantasy. That there was a man who cou
ld rock my world and for just a little while make me feel like a queen.

  21

  Damon

  I pressed my thumbprint to the lodestar. It beeped and I opened the cover. I skimmed the top page, checking the royal schedule.

  Liam was leaving the country for two days. He had personal business in London. He had agreed to attend a dinner while he was away.

  Next to the lodestar was the file on the olive grove irrigation. I remembered Molly’s suggestion last night. Something about the simplicity of her words struck me. Isabel was scheduled to return today to the southern part of the country, but I needed to change her itinerary. I had agreed.

  That meant there was a gap in today’s schedule.

  I grinned.

  I picked up the royal line. Sutcliffe answered.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

  I still wasn’t pleased about his interference with Molly’s departure from the palace.

  “I need you to change the itinerary for Princess Isabel today.”

  “Sir, she’s scheduled to leave in one hour for Sangreaux.”

  “I’m going in her place.”

  “Today is your preparation for the cabinet meeting.”

  I clenched my fist. “Sutcliffe, change the princess’s schedule. I will be taking a guest with me to Sangreaux.”

  I could hear his breath through the phone. “Your Highness, who is attending?”

  “Miss Washington,” I answered. “Make sure the arrangements are complete and that someone informs the princess she has the day off. She has traveled non-stop for two weeks. I will be downstairs in forty-five minutes.”

  “But the cabinet vote.”

  Damn it. Sutcliffe pissed me off. He was replaceable. If he couldn’t do what I directed, I’d find another palace manager.

  “I know exactly when it is.”

  “Yes, sir. I will make sure the arrangements are made.”

  I chuckled, knowing he had to scramble to make everything happen. He deserved it after the way he had meddled. The security detail would have to increase. My requirements were double what my sister had.

  I looked up when Molly walked in the office. She grinned shyly.

  “Hi.”

  “Bonjour.” I walked around the desk to greet her. “How did you sleep?”

  She ran her fingers through her long hair. “Like I was in a cloud.”

  “Good. We have plans,” I announced.

  “Oh?” She looked confused.

  “Remember that problem I discussed with you last night?”

  “The olive groves?”

  I nodded. “Oui. That one.”

  “What about it?” She cocked her head to the side, exposing her neck. I couldn’t resist kissing her skin. I inhaled her scent. This woman had me upside down.

  “We’re headed there this morning. It’s an overnight trip. I thought about what you said. I need to speak to the farmers. I need to see the groves. How else am I going to convince the cabinet without first-hand accounts?”

  “You want me to go with you?”

  “You are going with me. Isabel can’t handle the country side anymore.”

  “Excuse me? Are you asking or telling me?” She wiggled out of my hands.

  I scowled. “Is there a difference?”

  Molly crossed her arms. “Yes.”

  I sighed. “Let me guess. You would like me to ask you to go?”

  She nodded. “That’s usually how it works.”

  “I don’t have time for usual. I need you to go with me.”

  “But you haven’t asked what I have going on. How is this different from when security picked me up at the library? I realize you are the king, but you can’t order me to do things, Damon. Ask me.”

  I saw the sapphire hues shimmer in her eyes.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary—”

  She held her hand forward. “Ask me.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. No one spoke to me this way. “Molly Washington.” I gritted my teeth. “Would you like to go to Sangreaux to tour the olive groves with me?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’d love to.” She threw her hands around my neck and I felt the tenseness loosen in my chest. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  I stared at her. “Same result.”

  She laughed. “Not the point. At all.”

  “We now have thirty minutes.” I untangled her from my neck. “There will be a bag packed for you. Would you like to speak to Ayla about personal items? She will be assigned to you.”

  “Assigned to me? What are you talking about?”

  I folded the lodestar and stacked it on top of my desk. “You need a royal manager to assist you on the trip. I trust her. Kenley would be better, but she’s with Dominic today. She knows how to deal with him.”

  “I don’t need a manager. And I’m capable of packing my own bag.”

  I faced her. “Have you ever attended an official royal event of any kind? A tea? A dinner? A ball?”

  She shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor.

  I lifted her chin. “That is why you have a royal manager. Ayla will prepare everything. She will get you through it.”

  “This seems intense.”

  “It’s life as a royal.” There was no other way to explain it.

  I saw her fidget with the T-shirt. “I need to call my roommate. Brooklyn is probably freaking out. And my laptop. Shit, I forgot about it. All my notes.” She covered her eyes with her palms. “Everything is at the library.”

  I pointed to a bag next to the elevator. “That laptop?”

  Molly ran to the entrance and bent. I smiled at the view.

  She unzipped the top and pulled out the contents. “My phone!” She pressed the buttons and began chatting. I walked to the bedroom. There were a few things I wanted to include in my bag, and it was none of my royal manager’s damned business what I needed for a night with Molly.

  22

  Molly

  Brooklyn had been sleeping, but she was glad I called. “I heard about the royal guard at the library, so I sorta figured it was him.”

  “Yes. It was. And I just got my phone. I would have called sooner.” Neglecting Brooklyn was turning into a bad habit.

  “It’s fine. Really. I get it. You’re with the king.”

  “I’m not going to be home again tonight.” Damon walked to the bedroom and closed the door. I had a second of privacy to talk to my best friend.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m attending a royal trip.” It sounded like the best way to put it. I certainly wasn’t going to run through the irrigation issues. Brooklyn wasn’t interested in politics.

  “Holy shit, Mol. That’s crazy.” She suddenly seemed more awake.

  “It kinda is, isn’t it?”

  “And what about your dissertation?”

  I looked at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it was carved with ornate designs. “It’s ok if I leave it for another day, right? I’m being spontaneous. You have to do it. I would if I could.” I wondered if she was still melancholy over the guy from gala night.

  “Oh, I agree. This is totally spontaneous.”

  The bedroom door opened. Damon stood, holding a small overnight bag.

  “Hey, I have to go, Brooklyn. But I have my phone now.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “I’ll call you later and we can talk. You can tell me about him.” I should have listened sooner.

  “Thanks, Mol. Have fun. Send me snaps.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  I hung up.

  “Twenty-five minutes,” Damon stated.

  “Right. I just need a pair of yoga pants and hair in a bun. I can do that in five.”

  He eyed me. “This is an official visit from the palace. It’s going to require more than active wear. Ayla is on her way up with a few options.”

  “My royal manager?” It still sounded bizarre.

  “That’s the one.”

  I nodded.
“All right.” I started to walk past him. Traveling in yoga pants made sense to me. I had worn them on the flight from Charlotte to Freychon last summer.

  Damon’s hand landed on my wrist. “Molly.”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t think for a second that you aren’t stunning in glasses and yoga pants.” He winked and let me continue to the bedroom.

  I blushed. I don’t know how he did that.

  A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called.

  A short woman with her hair pulled into a tight chignon entered. Her blond hair was much lighter than mine. I guessed she was maybe thirty-five. “I’m Ayla. His Majesty sent me to present a wardrobe.” She bowed and I felt completely out of place.

  I shook my head, trying to convey that protocol was unnecessary with me. I didn’t have an ounce of royal blood.

  “I’m Molly. Thanks for your help. I know this was last minute.”

  She walked toward me with a garment bag in her arms. She draped it across the bed and unzipped the center.

  “We have to work quickly. You only have a few minutes before you need to meet the car downstairs. The king is never late.”

  “I’m starting to figure that out.” I looked at the outfits she had selected. I wondered how Damon had described me. How did she know my size?

  “This one?” She held up a blush dress that was sleeveless and fell to my knees.

  “Yes.” I took the hanger. I didn’t need to go through every dress in the collection. “I’ll change and be right out.” I wasn’t picky about clothes.

  “I have pearls,” she called after me. “A gift from the prime minister.”

  “Thank you.” I let the silk trickle over my head and wash down my limbs. I looked in the mirror. I had never worn anything like this dress. It wasn’t flashy or revealing. But it wasn’t so modest that I felt matronly. It was fitted with graceful lines.

  I turned to observe the back. There were tiny buttons that stopped shy of my backside.

  Ayla knocked. “Molly, we need to go. Does it fit?”

  I opened the door. “I think so.”

  “Oh, it’s perfect.” She grinned. “Here are your pearls. Turn around for me.”