Possessive Billionaire Prince

by Beatrice Brae

  Possessive Billionaire Prince

  OTT Insta-Love BBW Billionaire Fast Read Series

  Beatrice Brae

  Brae Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Beatrice Brae

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Beatrice Brae

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Newsletter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Next Book in the Series

  Newsletter

  Subscribe to my newsletter to find out about my new releases!

  Chapter 1

  Kate

  Prince Alexander is the biggest playboy on the planet.

  At least, that’s what the newspapers say, and they have the pictures to prove it. In today’s articles, he’s accompanied by two women, one blonde and one redhead. The three of them got into a car and then went to his penthouse. I have a stupid crush on him that has lasted for the last couple of years. I’ve put him on a pedestal, but it’s clear that he is not the ideal man.

  I scroll below and see a picture of him kissing the fiery redhead with long legs. My heart aches, and I decide that my stupid crush lasted long enough. The elevator doors open and I step forward and bump into someone. The guy turns and gives me a nasty look. “Honey, watch where you’re going, and put your phone away,” he says and enters the elevator.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed, and put my phone in my bag. I hate men that call women they don’t know ‘honey,’ but I bite my tongue and don’t say anything. I enter the elevator as the doors close, and I’m shocked to see Alexander Huxley Barrington, Prince of Bramwell leaning against the elevator wall.

  He is so handsome that he takes my breath away. He’s alone in the elevator, and I realize he’s ditched his security detail again. I swear, he’s going to get kidnapped if he doesn’t stop doing it. He doesn’t notice me at first, so I secretly study him. He looks like he’s rolled out of someone’s bed. His crisp white shirt has a few unbuttoned buttons, and the bow tie is undone. His hair looks as if someone has run their hands through it. I’d be jealous, but I decided before I got into this elevator to forget about my stupid crush. So, I’m not jealous. I swear.

  The way he’s leaning against the elevator’s wall, you can guess the perfect silhouette underneath. He’s wearing shiny black shoes that I’m sure cost a few thousand dollars. He exudes elegance, power, and especially money.

  The elevator doors open again, and the guy I had bumped into shoves me before he exits the elevator.

  “Jerk,” I say. The guy turns and flips me the bird, and I’m shocked by his rudeness.

  “Are you okay?” the prince asks me, and I suddenly realize that the engagement ring has fallen off my finger.

  “No,” I say in a panic. “My engagement ring. He’s going to kill me,” I say my voice filled with panic. “Did you see where it fell?” I ask Prince Alexander.

  The prince looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “You lost something?” he asks and takes a step towards me.

  “My ring fell off when that guy pushed me,” I say, and I kneel on the elevator floor, desperate to find the ring.

  “No. I haven’t seen it,” he says.

  “I really need to find that ring. Darius will go crazy if I don’t find it,” I say, and a dry sob burns my throat, but I refused to let it out.

  The prince clears his throat. “Hey, can you stop screaming. I have a terrible headache.”

  I roll my eyes. He says his head hurts, but I can feel his gaze on my ass.

  “What a prince,” I mutter under my breath, and to my surprise he kneels on the floor beside me. I don’t know where the prince is going, but he’s definitely wrinkled his pants now.

  “I found it!” he says triumphantly, and I stand up, relieved. The prince is still on his knees in front of me. He holds out my ring, I automatically extend my hand, and he places it on my finger. It’s a funny scene with him kneeling in front of me, like a real fiancé would.

  He is wonderfully attractive, and he takes my breath away, so I just stare into his eyes. I feel like I should say something meaningful, but my mind is so scattered that I’m not able to say anything. Now I understand even better why all those women who appear with him in the newspapers lose their heads. The elevator doors open again, and the world explodes around me. I hear people screaming and camera flashes blind me. The prince grabs my arm and pulls me out of the elevator. Six men, his security team, I suppose, help us out of the building and push us toward an SUV with the door open. The guy holding the door open has dark brown hair, a light stubble, and a pissed off look.

  “When are you going to learn, Alex?” he says angrily to the prince after he gets behind the wheel. I can’t believe I’m in the same car as Prince Alexander. I’m still shocked by what’s happened and scared by all the paparazzi screaming at us and the camera flashes. If this is his life, I’m sorry for him. I look out the window, relieved that the ring is safe on my finger but surprised by the turn my evening has taken. I was supposed to deliver the ring to the restaurant and head home after. We don’t do this kind of service a lot, but this is a very expensive ring.

  “How did your ring fall off?” the prince asks. “It’s a ring after all. Its goal is to sit on your finger.” He lets loose a breath that’s half frustration, half disbelief.

  “It’s too big,” I snap at him, frustrated by his interrogation.

  “Did Darius buy you a ring that’s too big for you?” he asks me.

  I narrow my eyes. “How do you know about Darius?” I ask and turn and face him.

  “You said, and I quote, ‘Darius is going to kill me!’ Who is he? Your fiancé? I’m sure he can buy you another ring if you lost it. It’s not your fault the bastard bought you a ring in the wrong size.”

  “It’s a five-million-dollar ring,” I snap at him.

  He puts his phone in his pocket and runs his hand through his hair, making it even more tousled. He looks adorable but disheveled. He usually looks impeccable in all those pictures, and I am surprised by his appearance.

  I’m a little surprised by his voice. He has a melodious, baritone voice, and he speaks with a vague French accent that makes me imagine what it would be like if he whispered forbidden things in my ear. I like the way he looks, but I’m crazy about his accent. Over the years, I haven’t heard him talk often, but his voice makes me wet between my legs. I am usually invisible to men like him. I’ve had enough dealings with rich men to know they have the impression they’re the kings of the world. Unlike them, this guy will actually be king one day, so I figure he’s even worse than the rest of them.

  He doesn’t say anything, and silence as thick as mud oozed between us. I’m a little uncomfortable and want to deliver this ring and go home. I think my adrenaline has worn off because I start shaking. Damn, I really don’t want to cry in front of him.

  Chapter 2

  Alex

  Fuck fuck f
uck.

  This whole royalty thing is stupid if you ask me. Imagine that you’re thirty-four years old, a self-made billionaire—I admit, the royalty thing has helped a little—and you have to ask your father’s permission to live your life. And things have become so bad that now that I have to marry a woman chosen by my family and their advisers.

  Can you imagine all of this?

  Yes?

  Welcome to my life!

  Now, tell me how lucky I am to be a prince.

  And I still haven’t told you about the paparazzi who follow me day and night and tarnish my name in the newspapers because I do what any healthy, single man my age does.

  I fuck a lot of women.

  Not as many as the newspapers say, but enough to keep me satisfied.

  I hear a sigh beside me, and someone blows her nose loudly. Not delicate, like a lady, as I’m used to. Well, you get the idea. It’s girl from the elevator, and those pictures will only make my problems worse. If these were normal circumstances, I would take her straight to bed. She has great tits and a million-dollar ass.

  She blows her nose again, and silent tears are streaming down her cheeks. She’s shivering in the left seat, and she looks so small and scared. I realize I haven’t said a word to her since we got in the car. I should at least ask her address and name and take her home. No doubt all those cameras and yelling paparazzi scared her shitless.

  She gives me a faint smile, and I have a crazy urge to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be fine. I can see the curve of her cheek and the shape of her lips in the dimly lit car. I really want to kiss those full lips and feel them around my cock. She was rather feisty in the elevator, but she’s so soft and pliable now.

  I don’t want to give my cock ideas, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and a subtle scent of roses fills my nostrils.

  I smile at her, and she gestures toward the buildings outside. “Is it always like that? “

  I frown, not understanding what she means.

  “Paparazzi,” she continues. “They’re like a pack of wolves hunting and you are their ultimate prey. Why are they following you?” she asks, and she wipes her tears with a napkin.

  I frown. She can’t be so naive that she doesn’t understand the reason. “Money, my dear!” I tell her. “My pictures sell very well, and if I’m accompanied by a woman, they pay twice as much.”

  She nods, and her long, silky hair flows in loose spiral curls. I want to grab hold of it tight while I fuck her from behind.

  I run my hand through my hair, frustrated. What the hell does this woman have that makes me think only about sex? I want to fuck her so hard my sex hurts.

  “Money,” she says with disdain. “I’m sorry. Maybe if you didn’t party like that and didn’t show up with two women at once, the paparazzi would leave you alone. If you behaved like you used to, Prince Alex… Your Majesty,” she stammers.

  Before.

  My erection drops instantly when she reminds me of the past. I don’t like the girl at all, I decide.

  This conversation would be funny if the word before didn’t make me want to strangle her. This woman pushes all my buttons, from her body that only makes me thinks of sex to her mouth that only makes me want to shut her up. I don’t know if I want to kiss her or kick her out of my car.

  It’s such a strange word. Before. I don’t even remember how I was back then. It seems like a lifetime ago.

  Before.

  “His Majesty is my father, since he’s the king. You can call me Your Royal Highness, since I’m the Crown Prince,” I say coldly, and she blushes adorably. My cock twitches in response.

  Well, at least he seems to like her. It’s a pity that she’s engaged.

  Fuck, this woman is driving me crazy. “Thank you for the advice, although I didn’t ask for it,” I add, my voice filled with cold fury.

  I see her getting angry. She’s gone from calm to angry in a minute. “Of course, you didn’t ask for it, but I thought you might need help. I’m sure people around you don’t tell you that, so I thought I’d give you some advice, Alex.” She smiles sweetly at me, and I stare at her.

  “Your Highness,” I correct her automatically, and to my surprise, she laughs and her big brown eyes twinkle with mischief.

  “Your Highness is for your subjects, one of which I’m not. I’m an American,” she says. Her lips are parted, and her eyes sparkle. “I have a president, not a king.” She’s breathtakingly beautiful, and I lean toward her. I want to kiss her so hard, but I restrain myself at the last minute.

  I hear a muffled laugh coming from the front, and I look up at my cousin, Spencer, who can barely contain his laughter. I’m glad the bastard finds it funny.

  Fuck, this woman is driving me crazy, and I’d like to fuck her to exhaustion. Maybe she’d talk less and not say so many inappropriate things.

  My cousin winks at me, and I clear my throat. I can’t say anything to the bastard. He’s doing me a favor by driving me around since my driver broke his leg last week. For safety reasons, my driver must be a trained bodyguard from the royal guard, so few people meet this requirement in New York. His replacement will arrive next week, so until then, I’m stuck with my cousin. And him with me.

  Fuck my life. I hate that I can’t go out without an escort and my driver must be a soldier. Well, an ex-soldier, in my cousin’s case.

  “I’m going to take you home, so please tell me your address,” I ask her and realize I have no idea what her name is.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “It’s Kate,” she says and takes her phone from her purse. Her screen lights up, and her fingers are touching the screen. I hope to God she’s not telling someone that she’s with me.

  I nod. “Kate, I will also ask you not to talk to the press. My lawyer will contact you and give you some money as a thank you for not talking to the press about what happened in the elevator. They took pictures of us, so I’m sure some of them will be online in a few hours,” I add.

  She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think the press will come knocking on my door. I’m a nobody. Nobody knows me or cares about me, so don’t worry. And if they knock or call, I won’t tell them anything, since I don’t really know anything except that you are a pompous ass. But this is not news to anyone. Anyway, I’m not going home. I’m going to deliver the ring to The Blue Diamond. It’s the go-to restaurant in the city if you want to propose.”

  Again, I’m shocked by her naivete. I’ll bet the paparazzi have already identified her. I’m sure they already know her name and where she works and lives. It’s more than I know, I think gloomily.

  “Isn’t that your ring?” I ask her.

  She laughs again, a light sound that brings a warm glow to her hazel eyes. She’s so beautiful, I find myself staring at her. “I can’t afford a five-million-dollar ring. I’m just delivering the ring. Some lucky girl will receive it tonight with a marriage proposal. Stop right here,” she says, and my cousin suddenly stops the car.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her in bewilderment.

  She gestures toward the window. “The restaurant is here; it will only be a moment.” She opens her door and leaves before I can say anything else.

  My cousin is shaking with laughter. “Don’t say a word,” I say through gritted teeth, which only makes him laugh harder.

  “I like her. A lot. She behaves like she’s the princess and you’re her valet,” he says, and I frown because I agree with him. I also realize it’s the first time in my life that my motorcade has stopped and, like any other man in the world, I’m waiting for a woman.

  She comes back a few minutes later, and I take her home.

  We arrive in front of her apartment, and I get out to walk her to her door. Thank God it’s dark outside because I want to kiss her.

  I feel funny inside when she smiles at me. “Thank you for the ride home, Your Royal Highness. I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble with the press,” she says. I can see the first trace of nervous
ness flitting across her face.

  Her body is lit by the hazy moon, and she’s all sleek curves and finely-toned muscle.

  I take a step toward her, and she takes a few steps back until her back touches the door. “You can call me Alex,” I tell her. “After all, you are not my subject.”

  She blushes when she hears my words. “I apologize, that was rude of me,” she says and faces me with a defiant lift of her chin that makes me think she’s not sorry.

  “I can forgive you with one condition,” I say. “I want a kiss!”

  I can see the genuine surprise on her face when I reach over and my hand cups her cheek. Our eyes lock when I lean down touch my lips with hers. I slide my hand around her neck and pull her closer. She sighs as she leans in, and I deepen the kiss while I touch the smooth curve of her waist with my other hand.

  Pleasure pulses in my veins when a soft moan escapes her lips. She grabs my shirt and pulls me closer, and I realize I’ll do anything this woman wants. I just have to make her mine.

  ***

  I wake up tired and in a bad mood. The sweetness of Kate’s lips didn’t let me sleep. And after I fell asleep, I dreamed of her damn tits in vivid details. All night long. My God! Maybe it would have been better if she were engaged. That would have made her off limits. Maybe I wouldn’t think about her so obsessively, and I wouldn’t have woken up with the hard-on of the century.

  This hadn’t happened to me before, not even with Caroline, and I had asked her to marry me, convinced that she was the love of my life.

  Yeah, and look what happened. What a fool I had been.

  I go to the bathroom and take a cold shower that doesn’t help me with my erection since I’m daydreaming about her appetizing ass and her plump lips wrapped around my cock. I made a mistake last night when I kissed her because now, I want to do it again. Jesus, snap out of it already, I chastise myself.