by Frankie Love
I smile, loving her vulnerability. I lift her chin with a finger. “Keep going, Princess.”
She blushes, shaking her head. Her words are clear, though: “I told myself if I ever met someone who swept me off my feet, I’d give in to my heart’s desire. Even if only for one night. If only for one day. I don’t get to choose many things about my life ... but what I do with my body? No one gets to weigh in on that.”
“And did I sweep you off your feet, princess?”
“No. You caught me when I fell.”
“Does that count?”
“Yes.” She nods, her mouth inches from mine. “It counts for everything.”
9
I sink into the kiss like it’s the kiss of my life, because maybe it is.
Thomas is the only person to ever kiss me, and I’m glad it’s him—a man I’m so completely attracted to, drawn to, desperate for. There’s no way my connection with Prince Lucas will compare to how I feel right now.
Right now, my pussy is wet with desire. My breasts press against Thomas’s uniform. His chest is solid and warm, his arms wrapped around me. His hand lowers to my ass, squeezing it, and his cock grows between us, causing me to move my hips so they’re pressed tightly to him.
I want this. It may be considered taboo or naughty to sleep with a man before my wedding night—and I know my sisters think I’m an innocent girl—but the truth is, I’ve been having this fantasy for years. I want to be taken by a stranger who wants to run his hands over my bare skin until my pussy drips. I want to be taken by a man who wants me for me ... even just for one night.
I don’t want to give my virginity to a man my father chose.
I want to choose who gets to fill me up for the first time in my life.
And I choose Thomas.
His tongue presses past my lips, and my eyes flutter, my shoulders fall. My body eases into his hold. His palms are on my ass cheeks, groping me, pulling me closer to him still.
“Oh, Thomas, I want this so bad,” I moan against his mouth. I bite his bottom lip, tugging at him softly but with intention.
“Good, because I plan on fucking you thoroughly. You want a stranger to make you a woman?”
“Yes, Thomas, that’s exactly what I want.”
His eyes are focused on me—so heated, filled with promise—and right then and there I commit to forgetting about Lucas for the rest of the night. Yes, I’m marrying a prince in a few days, but right now I have a knight in shining armor, lifting my ass as I wrap my legs around him.
Right now I have the magic I always dreamed of finding.
He carries me to the bedroom and sets me on the bed without turning on the lights. I stand and slip off my shoes, then begin unbuttoning his uniform as fast as I can. He rips it off, and my fingers run over the ladder of muscles lining his torso, my hands splayed across his bare chest.
“Oh, Dahlia.” His breath is hot against my ear and his hands are on my back. I shrug out of my mother’s fur coat, and he spins me around. He finds my zipper, pulling it down without pause, and the cool air of the empty cabin hits my sun-kissed flesh. The dress is on the floor, my black bra pushing up my breasts. He palms them as if they’re his.
For tonight, they are.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, planting kisses down my spine as the dress falls to the floor. His hands wrap around my waist. My pantyhose are high on my belly, the sheer black nylon the only barrier between my most intimate parts and his hands.
I want him to rip them to shreds, to throw me on my back, to devour me.
He kisses my neck, my ass against his hardness as he pulls me closer to him. I whimper as his cock grinds against my ass, and I imagine him filling me here and now, without any warning. Spreading my ass cheeks and taking me from behind.
I wouldn’t mind.
I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I want to be filled by him, and I don’t care how it happens.
His hand lowers to the space between my thighs—to my dripping entrance, which is practically begging for him.
He presses his fingers against me. The warmth and control he exudes causes my back to arch and my knees to go weak.
He grabs my hair, pulling it aside and growling in my ear, “I want your pussy in the palm of my hand. I want to make you purr. And then, Princess, I want to lap up your milky cream.”
“My body is yours for the taking,” I whimper, already submitting to his will—willing to do anything if it means feeling this beautiful and desired, if it means that I feel like I’m his.
He pulls down my hose, getting on his knees and helping me step out of them. I’m wearing a small pair of black lace panties, and his mouth is hot against my pussy, his hands back on my ass cheeks. This time his fingers are under the fabric, and he holds my flesh in his hands.
He draws me to him, his tongue running over the lace. My hands are in his hair, holding him against me. I don’t want him to stop; I only want more.
He pulls the panties aside. His tongue runs along the length of my parted legs; he eases my thighs apart, and then his tongue is flicking against my folds. I feel my wet pussy drip against his beard, and he nuzzles deeper against me, his face buried in my mound.
I grab his hair for balance, feeling light-headed and completely undone.
As if he senses this, he nudges me backward so I fall on my back on the bed, my legs hanging off the edge. He’s on his knees, parting my legs, this time not easing anything. This time he’s taking control of my pussy like it’s his precious gift—or his last meal on earth. We lock eyes, then his head dips between my spread legs.
I let my head fall on the bed—this strange bed, in a strange cabin. And I don’t know what’s stranger: being here, or being licked up and down by Thomas.
It doesn’t matter. My eyes close; my legs spread. Thomas’s mouth is on me. He kisses every fold, his tongue moving up and down my slit—not rushing any of it, taking his sweet time to lick me into a frenzy.
Just when I feel like I can’t take the teasing anymore, he growls against me. “Oh, Princess, your virgin pussy is ready to be enjoyed.” Then he presses a finger into my opening, and I gasp at the pressure, biting my bottom lip in pleasure, in ecstasy—because I have gotten myself off so many times, but never with a hand so good, so big, so perfectly proportioned for my body. His finger alone fills me, and I know that the hard cock I felt earlier, grinding against my ass, will fill me perfectly.
But for now, this is plenty.
He begins to move his finger in and out, and I feel my release seep out of me onto his hand. When I start coming, he lowers his head, his scruffy beard adding to the mounting pleasure, and licks up all my juice, sucking against my clit as he does.
That’s when I forget to breathe. That’s when I know I just made the best decision of my life.
“Thomas, don’t stop, please. I want more.”
He must like my request, because a second finger is inside me, and he rolls his thumb in tight circles over my hood. I instinctively try to clench my legs together, unable to bear this coursing pleasure.
“Princess, relax,” he tells me, using his elbow to keep my thighs spread. “Let me finger-fuck you, and then, when your pussy is nice and ready, I’m going to fill you with my cock.”
“I want your cock now,” I beg, reaching for him. “Come into me now, Thomas. Don’t make me wait.”
He moves his fingers faster in me, in and out, and my ass raises in the air as he flutters his fingers against my trembling pussy walls.
“You’re coming all over me, Princess.”
“Is that bad?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you squirting all over me is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
I feel my face redden at the expression squirting, but another part of me swells with pride, wanting to be the woman who turns him on so completely.
“Oh, yeah,” he tells me, slapping my slick thigh. “That’s it, Princess.”
Every word of encouragemen
t seems to cause my pussy to swell with delight, because an orgasm rolls over me while my ass is high in the air and his fingers are buried deep in my pussy.
“Oh, Thomas, oh yes, yes,” I pant, my heart racing and my breathing fast. I’m completely undone by this stranger who managed to spread open my legs, my pussy, and my heart all at the same time.
As I catch my breath, he hovers above me, cupping my face with his hands.
“Sweetheart, I think you just gave me the royal treatment.”
I shake my head, shocked at how comfortable I feel with him. “That wasn’t the royal treatment.”
“No?”
I shake my head again, my hands reaching for the waistband of his pants.
“No, but you’re about to get it.”
10
She runs her fingers over my cock, which bulges beneath my slacks.
“You don’t waste any time, do you, Princess?”
“Time is not on my side, Thomas,” she tells me, then she licks her lips, pushing me up so I can get my pants off. She means what she says. No time to waste.
And I momentarily feel like I should say something, clarify. Or perhaps pause and be angry that the woman sent to marry me is willing to sleep with a man she just met—a man she doesn’t think is the prince.
But I’m not upset. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. Her ability to follow her heart, give in to her deepest desires, turns me on. It makes me hungry for her, makes me want her. Makes me ready to take her.
Her fantasy is about being undone by a stranger who wants her without the pretense. And if I tell her I’m the prince, she’ll second-guess all of this.
Right now, I want my princess to just enjoy herself.
God knows I am certainly enjoying her. I’ve never been with a woman who was memorable. It was always a means to an end ... but with Dahlia, I can’t imagine an end.
I think this is what love at first sight must be.
Because, damn it, I only have eyes for her.
I pull off my belt, dropping it on the wood floor. Her eyes are on my groin, and I smile, loving her unabashed desire to be with me.
I may have grown up a prince, but in this moment, I feel like a king.
I feel wanted.
Like I’m hers.
“Don’t tease me,” she pouts. “I’m ready for you.” She sits up in bed, watching as I unbutton my pants and drop them to the floor.
She reaches behind her back, unclasping her bra. She takes it off and her perfect tits are exposed—round and full, ripe and perky. If my cock could get any harder than it already is, seeing those hard little nipples would cause my rod to strain to the point of pain.
I take off my boxers, and she immediately leans forward, wanting a better look.
“May I?” she asks, licking her lips again and reaching for me.
I grin, fucking amazed at this gift before me. She’s as proper and princess-like as ever—asking for permission before taking hold of the cock that is hard just for her.
“Princess, take what you want.”
She sighs, stroking my skin, and looks up at me with those gorgeous doe eyes. Her tits are pressed together, offered to me like a present.
“You’re so big, so hard, so thick.”
“You think you can handle me?”
“I think you got my pussy good and ready, Thomas.” She lowers her mouth to my length, kissing the tip before letting her tongue lick me up and down.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I groan. “Now you’re the tease.”
“I won’t play games, not with you.”
“What will you do with me?”
“I’ll get on my back and wait for you to fill me. I want to stretch for you. I want to bleed for you. I want my virginity to be claimed with this cock.” She holds my length, eyeing me. “And I want that all to happen right now.”
“A bossy princess, are you?”
She laughs, falling back on the pillows, her body bare and her heart on her sleeve. “No one on the face of the earth has ever called me bossy,” she says.
I look around the room, suddenly uncertain.
“What is it?” she asks.
“I don’t have a condom. I left the palace thinking I was retrieving a princess... not making love to her.”
The word love hangs in the air, but I’m not about to take it back.
I know what I felt the moment I saw her, the moment she spoke, and the moment she told me her fantasy.
“Oh.” Her voice falters. Her lips press together, as she considers the situation.
I immediately dig around in the side drawers and the dresser, looking for a foil wrapper, but there’s nothing except loose change and folded socks.
“I know this is reckless...” she begins, “but please make love to me. Like you were going to.”
“You know what that could mean, don’t you?”
“I know.” She shakes her head. “I know, that’s inconceivable, isn’t it? That I’d even consider such a thing? What if I got pregnant with your baby, a baby that wasn’t a Rochester heir?”
I watch her closely, realizing this is the exact reason I wanted to pretend to be a bodyguard. I can genuinely see what she’s like without her royal filter on.
“I’m sorry, Thomas. I truly want you to come inside of me ... but I can’t just think of myself.”
“You would put your family and the country of Rochester—a place you don’t even belong—before your own desire?” I turn back to the dresser, opening the small boxes atop it.
“On the off chance I actually became pregnant, these would no longer just be choices I have to live with. They would be choices a child would have to live with, too.”
My fingers fold around a wrapper. In fact, an entire package of wrappers.
I turn to her. “While my cock wouldn’t appreciate the restraint, I think it’s admirable.”
“You do?” she asks, needing reassurance.
“I do. Fortunately, we won’t need to practice any self-control tonight.”
“We won’t?”
“No, princess, we won’t.” I show her the condoms, and waste no time rolling one on.
“Thank heavens!” She laughs, dramatically falling back onto the bed. Her tits bounce with her movements, and her happiness fills the room. “Don’t make me wait, my darling knight. Take me. Now!”
I lean over, cupping her face again, cradling her in my other arm. “You are a gem, Dahlia.”
“And you are my protector.” She says this so adamantly, like she believes it, like she knows it. Without any doubt.
I press myself inside her, inching myself in slowly, not wanting to hurt her more than I already know I will. She winces, and I apologize, whispering in her ear.
Then I kiss her. At first it’s soft, then it deepens into something holy, something sacred. It turns into a kiss of passion, where our bodies melt into one, my cock filling her, her pussy stretching around me, our skin touching and our hearts brimming and the magic of the moment covering this cabin.
The snowstorm rages outside; the windows revealing white flakes in a flurry. But my body covers her, and together we cocoon ourselves in ecstasy.
I thrust into her, and we come.
I draw her close, and we exhale.
I fill her up, and we are whole.
11
Eventually Thomas and I crawl out of bed and I reach for my panties on the floor. I put them on, then clasp my bra.
Thomas watches me as I do. “Getting dressed so soon?”
“Thomas, I can’t walk around this cabin naked. What if the owners arrive?”
He nods, reaching for his pants. “I’m going to head back to the Land Rover, make another call on the radio. Will you be okay here until I return? It’s getting dark.”
“Staying here seems like a safer bet. Maybe there’s something in the kitchen? I’m guessing we’re going to be here for a while?”
Thomas and I both stand looking out the bedroom window. The snowstorm is raging, and my heart i
s only just now slowing after pumping furiously for the last hour. Whatever just happened between Thomas and me was otherworldly.
I’ve never felt so good, so right.
I swallow, wondering how much time we have together before I leave for the castle.
“You’ll ask if they’ll send a tow truck here?”
“Yes,” he tells me. “I’m sure they’re worried sick about us. About you.”
“I suppose, although the prince didn’t even bother to come and get me.” I shake my head, annoyed that I mentioned the prince. I told myself I wasn’t going to say a single thing about him while I was here with Thomas.
Somehow, I’m able to separate my mind into two categories. Before prince and after prince. BP and AP.
Thomas can only exist in the before, so it isn’t fair for me to mention the after.
“Of course I’ll find out when someone can get down here. Though, looking at the storm, I won’t be surprised if it’s going to be a day. If it’s like this here down the mountain, it’s got to be nuts up there at the palace.”
I nod, understanding. If I’m going to be here a while I don’t want to put my pantyhose and wool dress back on. “I’m just going to look in these drawers, then. Maybe there’s some clothes here for us. At least clothes for me.”
“Would you like me to bring one of your suitcases back from the truck?”
I shake my head. “No, that won’t do. I hardly brought any clothing with me, and the clothing I did bring isn’t suitable for this weather.”
Thomas smirks. “You brought two massive suitcases, and no clothes?”
“I’m moving here. Permanently. I wanted to bring things that were sentimental—and practical. So yes, I packed a few suitcases. And I’ve never needed to own clothes that would help in temperatures below 50 degrees.”
I walk over to the dresser and pull out a drawer, breathing a sigh of relief that it’s women’s clothing. I check and see that the dresser beside it has men’s clothing. And, more importantly, all of it looks clean.
I reach for a pajama set—flannel button-down. Respectable, and so cozy.
