The King's Surprise Bride_A Royal Wedding Novella

by Vivien Vale

  But here I am, wetter than a rainfall in the jungle.

  My head is foggy, and my heart is pounding in my chest as I feel another orgasm building; that tight, hot coil of pleasure that’s threatening to snap at any moment and push me over the edge.

  As if he’s reading my mind—though he’s definitely reading my body—he circles my clit with his tongue and sucks, and my legs clamp around his head as I start to come.

  A wave of pleasure crashes over me like a tide as I come again, and I turn into a hot mess of pure bliss, legs shaking, incoherent whining. I’m praising him like he’s some sort of god.

  He might as well be, with a tongue like that.

  I come down from my high, and he slowly kisses his way up my body, starting with my thighs, up my hips and my stomach, then taking pause at my breasts to gently kiss each one.

  He traces his fingertips along my skin with feather light touches up to my jaw line until he grasps it firmly and leans in for a kiss.

  I can taste myself on his lips, and it makes me feel so dirty, and I love it.

  Can you imagine what people would say if word got out of what Drew and I are doing? On the day that was supposed to be my wedding?

  The scandal.

  I sigh into his lips, and he breaks from our kiss, sitting up with his back against the tree. I curl against his side and cuddle into him and smile when I feel him wrap his arm around me, feeling protected.

  We sit there for a moment like that, enjoying the silence and each other’s company.

  The setting was perfectly romantic, really: a warm, soft breeze rustling through the forest, gorgeous blossoms on the tree above us, and the sun setting over the sea.

  It’s like something out of a damn fairy tale.

  As I look up at him, his eyes closed and his head leaned back against the bark of the tree, I bite my lip, contemplating my words for a second.

  “So,” I say tentatively, dusting my fingertips along his forearm as I look up at him, “I’m in a bit of a predicament, and I have a confession to make.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me and smiles, his voice smooth and low as he responds.

  “Oh, do you? Well, what’s this predicament and confession, my little princess?”

  I feel a heat in my chest, and I smile when he calls me his princess. I know it can’t happen for real, but damn if I’m not going to enjoy it for now while I can.

  The thought of being his instead of Fergus’ sends a warm feeling through me, and I can only imagine the life I’d lead.

  Now’s not the time to think about that.

  I shake myself from my thoughts and clear my throat softly, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers.

  “Well,” I coo, looking away shyly, “I’m actually a virgin. And I really don’t like the idea of Fergus being my first. He seems like a—snob,” I settle on the word for lack of a better one. “He’s not the kind of man I want to take me, especially not for my first time.”

  Drew appears mildly surprised as he looks at me and raises his brows, a smile starting to creep onto his lips.

  “Oh, a virgin? Could have fooled me, the way you went to town,” he says with a grin and a chuckle. “But I think I know what you’re saying. Although,” he adds with a thoughtful tilt of his head, “you should probably at least give him a chance; get to know each other a bit. You never know, plus, with the alliance...” he trails off, looking up at the blossoms in the tree and getting lost in his thoughts.

  He looks back down at me and sighs, his voice lower this time.

  “It’s probably for the best anyway,” he says.

  His hands wander along my bare skin, a pinch here, a grab there, caresses whenever he gets the chance; apparently, his body and his mind have two entirely points of views. I shift my weight against him, and when I slide my arm into his lap, I can feel his cock, hard again.

  I hum and smile when I brush against it, and I feel his breath hitch in his chest when I wrap my hand around his cock.

  I lean forward and look up at him, batting my eyelashes, and I lick the tip, smirking when a low rumble comes out of his chest.

  “I think there’s someone—or something—” I say as I dip my glance down quickly to his cock, and back up to his eyes, “that I’d rather get to know better than Fergus.”

  He grins at me and leans down, pulling my face up to meet his as he takes me into a searing kiss; all the while, I’m still stroking his hard cock, pulling groans from him.

  Just as I break from our kiss and lower my lips down onto his hard cock, I hear a rustling in the trees, not far off.

  Damn it.

  I whip my head up and look at Drew—he’s obviously heard it too, judging by the way he’s squinting—and stop for a moment, listening.

  Another snap of a twig and leaves moving ring out from the forest, and it’s closer this time.

  Did someone follow us? Were we being watched?

  We both look at each other in confusion, but it turns to panic when we hear an accompanying voice—one that I unfortunately recognize.

  “Ash? Where are you?”

  Shit, it’s Fergus.

  We both start to hastily right ourselves, hoping and praying that we’re presentable by the time he finds us.

  Definitely not the way I’d planned this day to go.

  Chapter 5

  Andrew

  Fuck.

  Of all the times for Fergus to actually take an interest in things, now is when he chooses to do so?

  That man is a thorn in my damned side.

  I’m buttoning up my pants and hauling my shirt back on, all the while trying to be as quiet as possible; I don’t want to give Fergus any reason to quicken his pace.

  I glance over at Ash, and the poor girl is terrified. She’s got a look of panic on her face as she’s fumbling with her clothes, her hands shaking and barely able to get herself back to rights.

  I give her a warm smile as I take one of her hands into my own and help her back into her dress, whispering to her.

  “Shhh, it’ll be all right, princess,” I say as I lace her up, “we’ve still got a moment or two, and we’re almost done.”

  I brush my thumb against her cheek softly as I tuck a few stray locks from her face behind her ear, kissing the top of her head.

  “What the hell do we say we were doing when he gets here?” she hisses quietly, looking around. “We’re alone in the woods and sweaty!”

  I give her a confident smile and shake my head, adjusting her neckline for her as she smooths her hair.

  “Don’t worry,” I coo. “I’ve got it covered. We’re alone in the forest because you mentioned wanting to go for a walk. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I let a lady walk alone in the woods, would I?”

  “I suppose not…”

  “And,” I add with a shrug, “it’s a warm day, hot even. We were walking at a brisk pace, talking about the alliance, and worked up a bit of a sweat.”

  She nods and goes to stand, but I grab her wrist and keep her in place, to which her eyes widen, and she looks at me like I’ve got three heads.

  “Which is why,” I purr, pulling her back down onto the ground with me, “we’re sitting here against the tree; we worked up a sweat with our walk and are taking a much-needed break. I insisted that we stop, so as not to tire you out.”

  Not a bad plan of execution, if I do say so myself.

  I get Ash back to looking presentable and just manage to smooth my shirt and do up the last button when Fergus comes into view.

  He glances at us and looks skeptical and irritated, and I offer him my best fake smile as he approaches.

  “Fergus,” I call, ushering him over with a wave of my hand. “We’re over here.”

  He stalks over and gives us both a disapproving look, his eyes darting back and forth between us as he speaks.

  “And what, pray tell,” he asks with a scowl, “are you two doing out here?”

  He looks at Ash and questions her, his eyes wide.

 
“What are you doing out here with him? Alone? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  I give her a quick nod, and she looks back at Fergus with a smile, her lie spilling from her lips as smooth as honey.

  “Oh, I wanted to go for a walk, and Andrew here, offered to escort me, so I wasn’t alone in the woods.”

  He looks at me, squinting, not sure if he believes her yet, and she continues to offer an explanation.

  “You see, we were discussing the impending alliance, and we got to talking and walking, and before I knew it, I was quite tired—as you can see.”

  She gestures to the soft sheen on her skin as she continues; offering her betrothed—ugh—a tired and convincing smile.

  “I insisted that we sit down; I got so winded, and I didn’t want to trip and ruin my dress. Although,” she adds as she glances down, “I did snag it a few times on the trees and bushes; I may have to have it tailored a bit.”

  Oh, she’s good.

  “Yes,” I chime in, shrugging. “You know how these women get; eager to take walks through the woods, but then once they’re in here, they’re all left feet, tripping and nearly ruining their dresses.”

  “I see,” he says, seemingly convinced as he sits down with some reservation onto a tree stump across from them, though not without dusting it down first. “Well, I’m glad I found you at least; even if it did take time out of my day to do so.”

  He looks at Ash with what seems like annoyance, shaking his head.

  “Well, at least you had him to stop you from doing anything stupid.”

  Ash looks down into her lap and nods, her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

  Did he really just speak to her like that? She’s his future wife, and this is the impression he’s setting for her? What an ass.

  I clear my throat and stand, looking at Fergus as I speak.

  “Well,” I say, “might as well head back now.”

  Fergus nods and stands as well, and then starts to head back in the direction he came, without so much as even offering to help Ash up off of the ground.

  He looks back at her and gestures for her to follow, and then starts walking again.

  She purses her lips together and goes to stand, and I offer her my hand, helping her up.

  Doesn’t even help his fiancé up off of the ground. The bastard.

  We catch up with him and much to my dismay; he wants to discuss the alliance.

  “You know,” he quips, “it’s a good thing that this whole thing was arranged. Otherwise, I’m not sure what sort of a state you’d be in.”

  He looks at Ash.

  “Well—” she starts to say, but Fergus cuts her off with a wave of his hand before she can continue speaking.

  “Oh, my dear,” he chortles, snickering, “you don’t know the whole story. This is truly beneficial for you and your people. You should be very thankful.”

  Is he serious right now? This is the woman that he’s going to marry, and he’s talking down to her like she’s not worthy of him.

  I can’t believe how rude he’s being to her, and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why he would have reason to.

  As we make our way through the woods, he and I continue to chat about the incoming marriage and alliance—Ash staying mostly silent—and I realize just how awful this situation is.

  Not only does Fergus seem to be disinterested in Ash, but he has absolutely no issue with airing his disdain of her country out in the open.

  The way he speaks to her—no, speaks down to her—is definitely not the way a man should speak to his fiancé.

  Every now and then, Ash looks over at me longingly, briefly enough that it’s not suspicious, but I’m pretty sure that Fergus notices a few times. I give her an empathetic smile, wishing I could give her some words of comfort.

  Fergus is probably not chalking it up too much, given the fact that he’s ignoring it and doesn’t seem at all concerned with the fact that his fiancé is looking at another man.

  As we get closer to the forest’s opening, I can tell that Ash is feeling dismal; she’s not as chipper as she was, she’s kept silent, and her gaze is cast downward at her feet as she walks. When Fergus speaks to her and expects an answer from her, she either just nods or mumbles something in response.

  My heart aches as we part ways, and her gaze lingers on me, eyes sad and full of defeat.

  That bastard doesn’t deserve her. Hell, he doesn’t deserve a woman half as good as her.

  She’s beautiful, charming, adventurous, and more captivating than any other woman I’ve met in my life.

  As they’re walking away, he catches her looking at me and frowns, taking her wrist in his hand and urging her along, nearly tripping her.

  My hands ball up into fists at my side, and I take a deep breath to steady myself and calm my rising temper.

  I knew I wanted her, obviously—I wouldn’t have run off into the woods for a quickie with her otherwise. But I’m only now realizing just how much.

  Not only for my own selfish reasons, but for her, too. She deserves someone who will cherish her, treat her right, fuck her daily, and make sure she knows just how god damn beautiful she is, and tells her every day.

  Fergus isn’t going to do any of that and wouldn’t do it half as well as I could anyway.

  I know I shouldn’t be thinking of her this way—she needs to marry him for the alliance, after all.

  But I can’t help myself. I want her, and I know she wants me too.

  Of all the women I could fall for, it figures I’d pick the one betrothed for a peace alliance.

  Way to go Andrew, way to go.

  Chapter 6

  Ash

  Well, if the last two days are any indication of what my marriage to Fergus is going to be like, then I sure as shit don’t want any part of it.

  I know I should be focusing on the positives of the situation; the peace alliance between our people, the security, and I suppose I could have it worse, but I just can’t say I’m happy about it.

  Fergus is the kind of man who has no issue with making you feel small; in fact, he thrives on it and quite enjoys it, from what I’ve seen. And I’m not talking about making a girl feel physically small. I’ll eat that shit up.

  I’m talking about small as a person, insignificant.

  The way he talks to me, or rather, talks at me, is so condescending, it’s all I can do to grit my teeth and bare it. I’m running out of the willpower and the patience to throw any more fake smiles in his direction when he does it, and I’ve apparently got a lifetime left to go.

  Even when he’s polite, he’s not really polite. It’s all a façade he keeps up to cover his ass, and it’s laced with underlying sarcasm and judgment. The way he talks down to his staff—and to me, for that matter—makes my blood boil.

  As for his looks, I mean, sure I could definitely do worse, but he doesn’t get my blood pumping, if you know what I mean.

  He’s more of a sleek pretty boy, and I want a strong, burly man; a man who when I look at him sends fire through my veins and makes my heart skip a beat. A man who can get my knees weak with a single look or a single touch.

  I want a man who isn’t afraid to make a joke, and has no problem laughing and carrying on with people not necessarily of the same social status as he is. I want a man who chops his own firewood when he has the spare time, instead of one who is too concerned with ruining his manicure or clothing and gets someone to do it for him.

  I want a man who has horses, and tends to them himself, and enjoys doing it. Not to mention enjoying things like walks on the beach, or a stroll through the garden on his down time or lunch break.

  I want a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life and finds his own happiness; not a man who demands that others create his happiness for him.

  I want a man like Andrew.

  It’s wrong to think that way, I know, and I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thoughts, but my mind keeps wandering back to our little romp in the woods.
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br />   The way his tongue brought me to completion—more than once—so easily, the way he made me feel beautiful even when we were rolling around in the dirt, and most of all, the way he looked at me and lusted after me.

  When he looks at me, I can tell that he wants me; he makes no effort to hide it. He gets this glint in his eye, and looks me up and down, his gaze lingering probably a little longer than it should on places that it shouldn’t, given our situation.

  Fergus doesn’t look at me like that.

  Hell, he barely looks at me at all, and when he does, he usually looks annoyed or makes it seem like I’m an inconvenience or a nuisance. It’s almost as if he wants this marriage as little as I do, but I’m at least trying to be positive about it. I certainly don’t look at him with disgust…even though I want to.

  I glance around the room and take in the scenery; not too many people, and the sun is still high in the sky, so I’ve got lots of time. I decide that I’m going to go ahead and visit the particular man that I want, whether it’s proper or not.

  If I’m going to be forced to spend the rest of my life with a weasel like Fergus, I may as well take advantage of my freedom while I can. Plus, it’s not like anyone is going to see me, least of all Fergus.

  I try to imagine him anywhere near the stables where I know Drew will be spending his time, and I barely catch the giggle that tries to force its way out of me.

  No, Fergus most certainly won’t be anywhere near the stables, so I’m safe to visit Drew, at least for a little bit.

  I make my way down to the stables, ensuring sure that I don’t rush or draw attention to myself as I go. I keep a steady pace and take my time, allowing myself to enjoy and take in the gorgeous scenery.

  There are so many beautiful flowers blooming this time of year, and the tree blossoms are particularly eye catching.

  The fact that I had several orgasms under one of those trees probably plays a part in why they catch my eye so much, but that’s neither here nor there.

  I chuckle to myself and sigh, shaking my head as my thoughts continue to wander.

  If anyone would have told me a week ago that I’d be fantasizing about leaving my would-be husband for another man that I’d only just met; I’d have told them that they were foolish.