by Parker Grey
He laps at me, once, and I shiver.
“And I can’t fucking wait for you to come with my thick cock buried inside your tight little pussy,” he whispers, one finger nudging between my lips, stroking my entrance. “Because your mouth is mine, Princess. And your pussy will be mine.”
His slick fingers drift away from my lips, down, until they’re on my puckered back hole, and I hold my breath. I can’t believe he’s touching me there. It’s so dirty.
But I like it.
“And your ass will be mine, too,” he says. “Not yet, but soon.”
I draw in a deep, shuddering breath as he moves his fingers back to my entrance.
“Please,” I say. “I need you, now, please.”
He just laughs.
“Not yet,” he says. “Not until we’re married. Then I’ll take your sweet, virgin pussy, but not yet.”
I open my mouth to beg again, but before I can say anything his mouth is between my legs and he’s licking me, fiercely, his tongue rough and gentle and fucking perfect all at once. All I can do is moan as he sends me spiraling higher and higher, toward that perfect cliff.
I’m afraid he’s just going to tease me again, get me close again and again like he did before but he doesn’t. This time, just as I’m about to come, he puts his lips around my clit and sucks hard, still teasing me with his tongue.
I shout, my toes curling and my hands clutching my sheets for dear life as I shatter into a million pieces, each one shaking with the sheer force of my orgasm. I can’t move and I can barely think, it feels so good, but Leo doesn’t stop.
His tongue circles my clit slowly, then laps across it, each stroke getting another jolt out of me, and before I know it’s he’s shifted on the bed, tongue still flicking back and forth, as something else strokes my slit.
Then he slides between my lips as I hold my breath, and in moments, his finger is inside me, teasing, stroking at my wall and I moan again.
“That feels so good,” I whisper, still panting for breath.
Leo doesn’t answer, just keep licking me and adds another finger. This time I bite my lip, because it feels so good to have him fill me like this, stretching my virgin channel a little further than it’s ever been stretched before.
I’ve used my own fingers, of course, but it didn’t feel anything like this, rough and dominating and oh so good.
“More,” I pant. “Please, Leo.”
He pulls back, his tongue still moving, and he strokes my entrance. I’m practically gushing juices, his face shining with them, and then, slowly, he slides three fingers into me.
I can’t move. This is more than I’ve ever had before, and I’ve got the sensation that I’m as full as I can get, totally stuffed, and it feels incredible. He moves his fingers and strokes me, and before I know what I’m doing I’m writhing and rolling my hips, trying to fuck his hand as hard as I can.
I come again in seconds, and this time I’ve got my hands locked in his hair, moaning his name, and he still doesn’t stop, not until I’ve come one more time.
Now I feel drained, limp, like there’s no possible way I can move, let alone come again.
Leo finally stops licking me, though he doesn’t pull his fingers out.
“Satisfied, Princess?” he asks.
I just swallow hard and nod, even though it’s not quite true. I still want his cock inside me, even though I know it won’t be happening tonight.
But he just chuckles.
“Roll over,” he says.
I don’t move, because I don’t understand, and I just look down at his face, the forbidding scar standing out even in the moonlight.
“Princess,” he growls. “Roll over.”
I lift myself on my elbows, and I turn over carefully. His fingers never leave my pussy, and with every degree I turn I can feel them inside me, finding my sensitive spots and sending sparks of pleasure through my body.
The second I’m on my belly, he grabs my hips with his other hand and pulls me back so I’m kneeling again, knees wide, totally and completely open and vulnerable to him.
Leo starts fucking me with his fingers again, slow and deep, hitting exactly the right spot inside me to make me moan, my face buried in a pillow. In moments I’m moving too, pushing myself back against his hand as I pretend that it’s his cock buried deep inside me.
With his other hand, he grabs my ass.
And then I feel his tongue, warm and wet, probing my back hole.
I gasp and freeze, because I suddenly have no idea what to do. He said he’d claim my ass, but I didn’t think he meant with his tongue.
This is dirty, absolutely filthy beyond anything I’d ever imagined. I’ve never even touched myself there, and even though I know people like it, it just seems... wrong.
But then his tongue moves in a slow circle, and it feels so good.
I know I shouldn’t like it, but I do, no matter how disgusting and dirty it is. Leo’s fingers keep moving and I moan, leaning back, his fingers inside me and his tongue on my ass, completely and totally filthy.
I come so hard I don’t even make noise, just hold my breath as every muscle in my body tenses. Leo just groans in response, his fingers and tongue moving faster and harder, and in that moment I don’t care that I’m being dominated and fucked, I just love it.
And I love him.
When I finish, he finally pulls away, and I slump to the bed, face first. I can hear him slurping my juices from his fingers, his other hand wandering up my spine to the back of my neck.
But still, I’m surprised when he kisses me. It’s gentle and tender, sweet and soft after he grabbed my hair like that and then finger-fucked me four ways from Sunday.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I”m yours, Princess,” he whispers back, lying next to me and rolling us onto our sides so we can spoon. “And I’ll always be yours. From now until forever.”
“And I’m yours,” I whisper back. “I promise.”
For some reason, that simple exchange feels better than ten thousand orgasms.
Chapter Twelve
Leo
It’s not exactly a surprise when, a week later, Josephine’s parents invite me to tea and inform me that they’ve decided to accept my offer of marriage to their middle daughter.
I knew she’d say yes. She’s been saying yes every night, over and over again, when I sneak to her chambers after dark.
The days between our nights together are torture. I thought that maybe her sweet mouth on my swollen cock would alleviate some of the raging desire inside me, but it’s only intensified. I only have to watch Josephine walk into a room and I’m hard as rock.
My pants are all about ready to burst at the seams. I’ve considered taping my dick down more than once, because it’s only a matter of time before this situation gets incredibly awkward.
The wedding is set for a month from now, and even though I could easily go back home between now and then, I make up some excuse to stay in Tomassia until then — I’m the acting Szegravian envoy or some shit, I don’t know.
I just know that every time I see Josephine, it gets harder and harder to keep her virginity intact. I promised her, and I can’t explain exactly why I want to wait until we’re married to finally fuck her, but I do.
Call me a romantic, but I like the thought that I’ll only enter her as her husband.
Her king.
But every time I visit her at night, when I make her come with my hands and my tongue, when she straddles me while she strokes my cock, breasts bouncing as she does, it gets harder to keep that promise.
And resisting while Josephine is wet and willing in front of me, her perfect, beautiful body prone, and she begs me to take her?
It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
A week after we’re officially engaged, I sneak back to her chambers. By now I’m barely sneaking, and I’m nearly sure that some of the guards know what we’re up to, but I’m not sure they care.
&nb
sp; After all, we’re set to be married. Her father would still be absolutely furious, but he doesn’t need to know.
I open Josephine’s door, close it quickly behind myself, and look around.
She’s not in her sitting room. Usually she is, naked and ready for me. Last night she was right there in that chair, and without speaking I took my belt off, tied her hands behind her, and she sucked my cock before I bent her over the chair, still bound, and drank her honey until she could barely move.
I’ve learned that my princess likes being dominated. She loves it when I tie her up like that, when I get a little rough, and the way she submits practically brings me to my knees with lust.
I walk through that room and into the next, pushing her bedroom door open quietly. She’s standing in front of her full-length mirror, and when she hears me, she turns.
I stop breathing.
I don’t know where she got it, but she’s wearing a tight, white, translucent sleeveless dress over a tiny white thong and white thigh-high fishnet stockings. Every curve of her body is visible, her perfect rosy nipples poking through the thin fabric.
I swear to God I can hear the fabric of my trousers straining, because there’s just something about lingerie. She’s fucking beautiful naked, but the sheer knowledge that she dressed like this just to make my dick this hard, well...
...It’s working.
“Do you like it?” Josephine asks, smiling shyly. I know she’s never dressed up like this for anyone before, so I’m sure she’s nervous, but I don’t care.
I just grunt, crossing her bedroom in one second flat, grabbing her and crushing my mouth against hers. A low, feral noise comes from somewhere deep in my chest as her arms wind around me, her skin warm through her flimsy dress.
I push her against the wall, already rolling her nipples between my fingers while she moans into my mouth, writhing against me, and I hitch one of her legs around my waist, pulling her tiny thong aside.
Soaking goddamn wet, not that I’m surprised. Josephine exhales in a sigh and moves her hips against my hand, like she’s trying to push my fingers inside her, and she looks up at me as she bites her lip.
I lose control.
I back away, grab her, spin her around. She’s got a mirror vanity next to her closet and I bend her roughly over that, both our faces visible as I rip her thong off.
“Leo,” she moans, and her eyes meet mine in the mirror, two pools of pure lust. “Please.”
Before I know what I’m doing, my cock is out and in my hand, and I push Josephine forward a little further, parting her thighs roughly so she’s got one knee on the vanity, practically laying on it.
God, I can smell how turned on she is by this, her perfect pussy pink and dripping, open and exposed.
Mine.
I grip my cock by the base and slide it along her lips as she moans again, my other hand on her back, but I don’t enter her. I want to, dear God do I want to, but I don’t.
“Please,” she whimpers again.
I swallow hard, nudging the tip of my cock against her clit, feeling her body thrum in response.
“Please what?” I growl.
“Please fuck me,” she begs. Even though she still blushes if I say cunt, sweet Josephine has developed her vocabulary lately. “Leo, I need you inside me.”
I don’t respond, but I keep teasing her clit with the head of my cock, back and forth. Her eyes flutter closed and she bites her lip again, then whimpers.
“Leo.”
Now I’m at her entrance again. All it would take is one thrust, one subtle motion of my hips and I’d finally be inside my perfect, tempting princess.
But I don’t. Even though I want it more than almost anything in the world, I don’t. Instead I bend down, put my mouth on her clit, and lick her until she comes hard, moaning.
When she finishes, I pull her to standing and kiss her, but she won’t meet my eyes until I take her by the chin and force her to look up.
“I said you’d be a virgin until your wedding night, and I meant it,” I say.
She swallows and looks down, dejected.
“We’re engaged,” she says.
“I want to take your virginity as your husband,” I say, and I’ve never meant anything more. “I want to be your first and your last, and I want you to know that I mean it.”
“I know,” she whispers.
I pause for a moment, turning over the idea that I had a few minutes ago.
It might be reckless, it might be dumb, and it might piss some people off.
But I think I’m past caring.
“Let’s elope,” I say.
Chapter Thirteen
Josephine
SEVEN MILES TO MONTBLANCHE, the sign reads.
I bite my lip again and watch the headlights pool in the road out of Leo’s windshield, dark towns and houses whizzing by.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m getting married now, at nearly one o’clock in the morning, without my parents’ approval. I’ve never really done anything without their approval — least of all marry someone.
I look over at Leo, and he looks back at me, the scar on his face shining in the reflection of his headlights, and he grins.
Then he takes my hand in his and kisses it, and I grin back.
I’m still not sure how this happened, how I fell in love with a man who terrified me a couple of weeks ago, but I did. Somewhere between toe-curling orgasms, we stayed in my bed and talked until three or four in the morning.
I told him about my strict family, about growing up in one of the smallest but wealthiest nations in the world. About the constant fear that one of our bigger, more powerful neighbors might decide to invade one day, and we’d likely be out of luck.
He talks about the years after his sister died, when his parents both turned inward and practically left him to fend for himself, when he stopped leaving his castle for a while and that’s when all the rumors blossomed. He talks about feeling like a monster, about starting to believe everything that was said about him. Thinking that maybe he really was that man.
There’s only one thing I don’t ask him about. The incident. I don’t think he’s ready.
Montblanche is a city on the border of Tomassia and Luchenne, a sort of European Las Vegas where everything is open twenty-four hours and you don’t need to apply for a marriage license more than five minutes in advance.
Leo pulls into the first wedding chapel he sees, one barely across the international border. My heart is hammering in my chest, my mind racing as he shuts off the engine and cuts the headlights.
Should I do this? Is this stupid?
Am I getting married at one in the morning in Montblanche just so we can have sex?
Then I look over, into Leo’s eyes, and all my fears dissolve.
This is crazy. It might be stupid, and it’s definitely reckless.
But I know, deep down, that it’s not the wrong thing.
“You ready?” he asks, kissing my hand again.
I smile, even as a whole troupe of bats flutters through my stomach, I’m so nervous.
“Ready,” I say.
If the people running the wedding chapel in Montblanche recognize us, they do a good job of not saying anything. It makes me wonder how many famous people, or how many royals at least, get married at times and place like this.
Maybe more than I thought.
Getting married is surprisingly easy. We fill out some forms, pick rings, I pick flowers, and then suddenly it’s happening.
The whole ceremony is a blur, and I feel a little like I’m floating above myself, watching someone else get married. As excited as I am, it doesn’t seem real.
At least, not until the very end.
“I do,” Leo says, staring deep into my eyes, my hands locked in his.
I swallow hard. The officiant asks me if I promise to love and cherish, honor and obey, et cetera. My heart’s beating too loudly for me to really hear him.
�
�I do,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“You may now kiss the bride,” he intones.
Leo slides one hand along my jaw, cupping my face tenderly, and lowers his lips to mine. It’s the gentlest kiss we’ve ever exchanged, almost tentative, sweet and loving and tender.
It still makes my knees weak. Leo runs his tongue along my lip and I open my mouth under his, wrapping my arms around him as his other hand makes its way to my lower back, bringing me in against his body.
He’s rock hard. I bite his lip gently as he pulls away, smiling down at me dotingly, like any good husband.
Even though the officiant is standing right there, he’s not really paying any attention to us. Leo ends the kiss, then leans in, his lips against my ear.
“I’m going to fill you up with my thick cock and make you come until sunrise,” he whispers.
I blush bright red, because even if I’ve gotten a little more use to his dirty talk, he usually doesn’t do it in front of people. But no one else seems to notice, and Leo smiles at me, then at them, and we walk back down the aisle.
Ten minutes later, we’re walking down the hall of the hotel attached to the chapel, part of our wedding package. I’m giddy and breathless, because I can’t believe I’m married, and I’m also quivering in anticipation for what’s about to happen.
Leo takes out the key, puts it in the lock, and turns it.
Then he turns to me, the two of us alone in this hotel hallway.
“Josephine, I love you,” he says, and his voice is tender and gentle. “And as much as you’re mine, I’m yours, from the day I met you until the day I die.”
He kisses me.
“I couldn’t be happier that someday you’ll be my queen and the mother of our children,” he goes on. “And I wanted you to know that, right here, right now, as crazy as this may seem, when I say forever I mean it.”
“I mean it too,” I whisper.
