The Prince’s Passion: A Fake Engagement Royalty Romance

by Styles, Peter

  His dark eyes glittered as he snagged his chair and brought it close enough that when he sat, our knees brushed. “Ever since you arrived in Calonia, you have downplayed who and what you are. Think about it, Daniel. Think about the two of us for a moment, and then tell me what it is I would see in you. What it is that would shake me out of my isolation and my devotion to duty.”

  I was momentarily speechless. My initial reaction was to say something snarky, but I stopped. Amand was right. I shortchanged myself at every turn. How could anyone love me if I didn’t love myself?

  “I am creative,” I began hesitantly, “like you. Our talents are different but complementary. You hear beauty and create it through your music. I see it and create it in words and pictures.”

  Amand smiled.

  “I think, in some ways, I must remind you of who you are inside. I think that person still lives in you and connects with me in that way.”

  I drew a shaky breath, surprised at how close to tears I felt. Introspection did not naturally come to me. “You see me as free, but not wild. I value family…like you.”

  Amand shifted his chair so that he could bracket my legs with his own, our hands clasped between us. “You are a man of honor, Daniel. You are both creative and practical, a combination I find incredibly intriguing. I can talk about anything with you and know you will tell me the truth. I want you in my life. So let me ask you again. Will you marry me, Daniel, not because everyone already thinks us engaged, not because I have some sense of duty, but because I love you. It is you I want by my side.”

  My heart pounded. Such a huge step, but I hoped maybe it would work. Amand leaned in, brushing his mouth across mine before kissing my jaw and behind my ear.

  “Marry me, my love,” he whispered.

  “I—” I stopped and laughed. “I will.”

  Amand pulled me to my feet as he stood. Our arms wrapped around each other and our kisses heated up until our hips rubbed and thrust together and our breathing deepened and grew raspy. Amand was the first to draw back, his cheeks flushed and his hair disheveled. With a grin, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a ring, a wide white-gold band with sapphires embedded along the top on either side of a square-cut diamond.

  “Hold out your hand. I want my ring on your finger, Daniel.”

  He slid it on with a pleased chuckle that it fit.

  “Some of the crown jewels?” I asked with an arched brow, once again regaining some of my equilibrium.

  “No. This is unique to you. Everything in the royal jewel box was too feminine. Besides, I wanted a ring that more closely matched your eyes.”

  I held it out, staring at it in wonder. “It’s gorgeous. Would it be too sissy-like if I walked around showing it off to everyone?”

  “We could take the standard engagement photo with you ostentatiously flaunting it.”

  I laughed and Amand joined in. “Let’s skip that.”

  “All right with me.”

  Amand suggested a walk and I agreed. We stuck to the paths through the trees, our arms around each other’s waists. I finally believed he saw value in me that I had only now realized, but I still had to ask, “How is this going to work, Amand? I mean, is it a problem because you’re royalty and I’m not?”

  “It might have been had I been the Crown Prince, just as our marriage would have been problematic for other reasons in that case, but since Constantin is married and has already produced heirs, I am not under any constraints and can marry where I will.”

  “You’ve alluded to another issue. What about family? Children?”

  He stopped, his hands bracketing my upper arms. “Family is important to me. I would like children.”

  I sighed in relief. “Me too.”

  Amand’s gaze was serious. “There are ways we could have our own children, but we can hash that out once we’re married. It is enough to know right now that we both want our relationship to include family.”

  I cleared my throat. “I need to get something else on the table.”

  “What is that?”

  I stopped, feeling somewhat awkward as I took a half-step back. I needed some distance. Amand frowned.

  “You once joked that you thought I liked a ‘firm hand.’”

  He tilted his head with a half-smile. “And do you indeed?”

  “I…um…I’m not into that scene, but I do prefer to…bottom.”

  Amand laughed. “Then we are compatible in yet another area.”

  He stepped close again and kissed me, a long, slow kiss that allowed him to grind our hips together while he plundered my mouth with his tongue. He leaned his forehead against mine. “I look forward to testing that compatibility.”

  I was about to say more when his cell phone vibrated. Amand pulled it out and made a face. “I must go. We are in the middle of a sensitive trade negotiation. Go into dinner with me tonight, so we can announce the news…the real news.”

  He laughed, kissed me swiftly on the mouth and hurried away.

  I dressed with care that evening, complete with my midnight-blue tux. It matched the ring Amand had given me. As nerves were beginning to take hold of me again, a knock sounded at the door. At my permission to enter, Amand stepped into the room.

  “I wanted to escort you downstairs myself.” His dark eyes gleamed with approval. “You look amazing.”

  Together, we entered the salon where everyone had gathered for pre-dinner drinks. Amand had his hand at the small of my back. We both bowed to the King and Queen.

  “Mama, Papa. If I could please have everyone’s attention.”

  Everyone in the room was suddenly staring right at us.

  “While the announcement came before the fact, I must share my news with you. I have asked Daniel to marry me—for real—and he has accepted me.”

  “It is about time you make an honest man of him,” the Crown Prince joked. “It has been what—two days—and we had yet to see sign of a ring.”

  Ricard hurried over to slap me on the back then took my left hand in his. He arched a brow. “Well, he has one now. Tell me, Papa, is that not your great-grandmother’s ring?”

  The King chuckled. “No. That was the ring with the sapphired the size of an egg. After searching the crown jewels, Amand apparently decided Daniel must have a ring of his own.”

  Ricard shook my hand and gave me a genuine smile. “Congratulations. Seriously. Maybe you can help Amand loosen up a bit.”

  Everyone congratulated us with a hug, a handshake, or a kiss. Uncle Bernat was there too, looking as if he might somehow claim responsibility for the engagement.

  What had begun as a family dinner soon turned into an impromptu engagement party with even staff invited in to celebrate. Additional bottles of wine were opened and toasts made. In the midst of the celebration, I saw Amand’s uncle slip his phone from his pocket and step into the hallway. From the corner of my eye, he appeared to be having a serious discussion.

  I thought little more about it, though, as Amand’s hand slid lower on my back, his fingers easing beneath my jacket and inside my belt to squeeze my ass. When I turned to look at him, his dark eyes were hot with promise.

  He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t drink too much. We are both going to have our own celebration later.”

  18

  Daniel

  I showered. I shaved. Now I paced the floor in nervous anticipation. I was as bad as the proverbial virgin on her wedding night, except we weren’t married and I wasn’t anywhere near a virgin. Shit. Why was I thinking about virgins? I should be thinking about my hot, hunky prince and all the luscious things he could and would do to me.

  The knock on the door nearly made me jump out of my skin.

  “Come in.”

  I stood near the French doors leading onto the balcony, unsure of what to do with my hands, and wondering—too late now—if I had jumped the gun some by changing into silk sleep pants.

  Amand stepped into the room. I sucked in my breath. Attired in a black wraparoun
d silk robe and matching sleep pants, he looked dark and a lot more dangerous than the impeccably dressed man I was accustomed to seeing. Beneath the long hem of the pants, his feet were bare and tanned. When did he have time to get a tan? The man worked nonstop.

  Except for now.

  “Do I meet your approval?” he asked in a voice so deep it sent shivers from my toes on up.

  “Yes.”

  His dark eyes roamed restlessly over me. “I thought of this moment the whole time we were downstairs, wishing my family and everyone else to the ends of the earth so I could kiss you…touch you. Come here.”

  He spoke with the autocratic tone that came so naturally to him. While a part of me reveled in that note of command, I needed him to understand that I did what he asked because I wanted, not because he commanded.

  “Mm. I like this ensemble,” I said with a lisp, and minced toward him. “Another one of your tailor’s creations?”

  Amand stared at me for a moment and then threw back his head and laughed. “For a moment there, you scared me.”

  “What? Was it the lisp or the sashay?”

  “Both. Hell, I think I need a drink.”

  “That I can do.” I turned to the side and sauntered over to the bar. After pouring us both a glass of wine, I handed one to Amand.

  He raised his glass. “To a brighter, happier future.”

  I smiled. “To a future in which we both get to follow our hearts and our muses.”

  He blinked and swallowed. “Hear, hear.”

  We tapped our glasses together and swallowed some of the rich, red liquid. When Amand took my glass, I made no protest. Truthfully, I’m not sure I could have said a word. I was nervous. This was a huge step for me.

  Amand’s fingers glided over my jaw, down my neck, and flattened against my chest. My heart pounded and my nipples hardened.

  “Daniel, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

  “Then don’t. You’ve seen my bare chest before. Take off your robe so I can see you.”

  He arched a brow, looking up at me from beneath them as he untied the sash and let the silky material slide from his shoulders to a pool at his feet. I inhaled deeply, my gaze overwhelmed by the feast in front of me. Hard muscles, a taut stomach, and the jutting evidence of his arousal already tenting his sleep pants.

  “I want to touch,” I told him.

  He held out a hand. As I stepped forward, he cupped it behind my neck and drew me in. Skin against skin, heart against heart, his warmth burned me and left me craving even more.

  “Touch me then, Daniel. Kiss me.”

  We had kissed before, but not like this. So little separated us. Every plane, every thrust, and every warm male part of him branded me. As our lips devoured each other, we moved to the bed. There would be no unfulfilled promises this night.

  “Suck me,” Amand whispered against my lips. I kissed my way down his chest and over his belly until I kneeled in front of him. How often had I fantasized about this moment, about being able to touch him and stroke him? Taste him.

  As I plucked at the string holding up that decadent, black silk, Amand tangled his fingers in my hair. “That’s it, Daniel.”

  With the slightest of tugs, his pants glided over his lean hips and down muscular thighs. I could have stared at him for hours, his body cut like that of a Greek statue, but what I really wanted thrust proudly up, a tiny pearl of moisture teasing me as it glistened on the dark tip of his cock. I stuck out my tongue and flicked it away, savoring its salty flavor.

  Above me, the tenor of Amand’s breathing changed, getting both faster and deeper. I had created that reaction. I leaned forward and took him in my mouth, needing to make him react, to pull him out of that carefully controlled box in which he had been living.

  I wanted to make him wild.

  I wanted it to last forever.

  His fingers clenched, his hips thrust, and I swallowed every inch of him. Just as I thought we would both lose control, he pulled me away from his shaft. I stared at him. The closed off, controlled man I had come to know over the last two weeks was gone.

  He was wild and ravenous. His hair disheveled and his cheeks flushed, he pulled me to my feet and pushed me onto my back on the bed.

  “My turn, Daniel.”

  I propped myself on my elbows, watching in amazement as he kneeled between my thighs. His hands were urgent, impatient as he yanked my sleep pants from me and tossed them away. One hand cupped my balls while he circled my shaft with the other. He slowly increased the pressure and stroke until it bordered on a pain and pleasure so intense I thought I might pass out.

  “Please, Amand. Please put your mouth on me.”

  He sucked with a ferocity that had my entire body shaking. I wanted to pull him away. It was too soon, but he shook me off, his mouth pulling and sucking me until my nuts tightened and my orgasm boiled up and over. Amand pulled his mouth off, his hand pumping me as I came all over him, all over me.

  “I can’t do sweet right now,” he ground out. “I need this too much, need to claim you, make you mine. You have lube and condoms?”

  “In the drawer,” I managed to gasp in a shaky voice.

  “Turn over.”

  As I did what he asked, he withdrew, covered himself and squirted a generous dollop of lube on his fingers. One-handed, he pulled my hips up and then his fingers glided between my ass cheeks.

  “I have stared at this ass and wanted to bend you over so many times and fuck you.”

  “Do it, Amand.”

  Circling my hole with one finger, he teased me, pushing and retreating before finally slipping inside. He thrust in and out, then added a second finger to begin stretching me for his penetration. I felt vulnerable, but it was what I wanted, needed from him.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it another moment, his cock was pushing in where his fingers had been moments ago. He filled me, leaning over me to kiss the back of my neck with exquisite tenderness.

  “Are you ready for it?” he asked with a growl.

  I whimpered. He wasn’t gentle, pounding my ass with a possessive ferocity before reaching around to stroke my once again stiffening cock. As he found his rhythm, his thrusts teased my prostate.

  “You want that firm hand?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Yes!”

  He arched back and slapped my ass, his cupped hand making more noise than sting. Each time he did it, my body clamped around him. Again and again, he went after me until I was nearly mindless with pleasure.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Make yourself come again while I finish.”

  Our cries were scarcely muffled, but I couldn’t care. This was Amand, making me his. He shouted hoarsely and thrust one last time. As he came, so did I. As wild as it had been, I might have expected him to return to his normal, distant self in the aftermath. But that wasn’t the case.

  Amand brought a warm cloth and cleaned me. With the covers stripped down, he picked me up as though I weighed nothing, and I was not small. After laying me on the cool sheets, he nudged me over and joined me, folding me tight in his arms.

  I tried to fight the weariness, so we could talk, but I had no power against it and fell asleep wrapped in the arms of my prince.

  * * *

  Amand

  Was it selfish to watch him sleep? He looked incredibly young, lying there in the glow of the lamplight. His golden hair was tousled and his lips looked swollen from my kisses. I wanted him again.

  Instead, I forced myself to lie next to him, curling around him as he slept. I must have too, at least for a while, because I awakened to Daniel licking at my nipples while his hand slowly worked my cock.

  Our gazes locked and he lifted his head to smile at me. “I wondered when you might wake up.”

  I chuckled. “Sooner or later the throbbing of my dick would have been too much. Is this a hint?”

  Daniel’s mouth quirked on one side. “I’d say it’s a bit more than a hint. A few more minutes and I would
have climbed on top of you.”

  “Would you now?” I rolled him over onto his back. “Reverse cowboy?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Face to face.”

  There was a request in that I didn’t have to look far to find. I stroked my hand over his chest, staring at the line of golden hair leading down to his swollen cock. I had always preferred taking my lovers from behind. It was safe and somewhat impersonal, if fucking someone’s ass could ever be called impersonal.

  “Amand? Is that a problem?”

  I managed a smile, hoping he didn’t see or feel my hesitation. “No.”

  He reached up and pulled me to him. “Then kiss me.”

  The whole mood had changed. Earlier, both of us had been starving and impatient. Now, Daniel teased me with light kisses along my neck and jaw before finally finding my lips. His fingers stroked through my hair and drifted down to my shoulders.

  “You’re too tense.”

  “I think it comes with the job.”

  “Lie on your stomach. I’ll give you a shoulder rub.”

  “You know the palace has a masseuse,” I managed drily, unwilling to let him know how excited the idea of him rubbing my back made me.

  “This will be different. I promise.”

  I did as he asked, turning my head to the side where I could see him in my peripheral vision. He straddled my butt, sitting on the tops of my thighs. His cock bounced against my ass cheeks, and I groaned, not only from the feeling but the image of it in my imagination.

  “I bet your masseuse doesn’t do that,” Daniel said with an evil chuckle.

  “No. Never. I would probably die of a heart attack if she did. She looks a bit like a prison matron.”

  Daniel snorted as he began kneading the muscles in the back of my neck and across the top of my shoulders. I groaned again.

  “Amazing. Can you do that forever?”

  He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss into the middle of my back, which also served to press his dick between my butt cheeks. “No,” he whispered. “Eventually, you’ll need to bury that big cock of yours in me.”