Crowned By The Mountain Prince: An Arranged Marriage Romance

by Frankie Love

  By the time the groceries are unpacked, the women are back inside, and the whiskey is poured, I watch as Dahlia makes a bed for me on the floor. The day disappeared somewhere between our fucking and our supper. The sky is dark.

  The older couple yawns, then they exchange a knowing look.

  “I’m spent,” Reggie says, pushing himself out of the rocking chair next to the fire. “You ready, Gladys?”

  She smiles, giving Dahlia a warm hug. “You kids going to be okay out here?” Dahlia assures her, but still, she looks pointedly at me. “You make sure you keep our Princess safe,” Gladys says, wagging her finger at me.

  “I’m on it, ma’am. It’s my royal duty.”

  Dahlia and I sit on the couch, watching the fire. Both of us are still holding glasses of whiskey, but the liquor isn’t the only thing burning. My desire for this woman has grown to an inferno. I need to get her stripped down in that sauna, and I need to do it now.

  “Do you think they know?” Dahlia asks, her voice revealing her fear.

  My shoulders tense, realizing that Dahlia is scared of what people might say. It makes me feel like shit that I made a decision about keeping my identity from her, a decision that causes her to second-guess her choices now.

  “They’re a sweet, unsuspecting couple. You don’t need to worry.”

  “You hid the evidence?”

  “I did.”

  She exhales, and I know it’s time to come clean. She needs to know that I’m the prince. Waiting any longer to reveal the truth is just unnecessarily torturing her.

  “Thomas,” she begins, her voice still quiet, looking over her shoulder to check that Gladys and Reggie aren’t stirring. They aren’t. Their murmuring from the other side of the door has faded, and there’s no light coming from under their doorway.

  “I have something to say first,” I tell her. “Something I should have said earlier. Something that will change everything.”

  She shakes her head vigorously, sitting so prim and proper on the couch bedside me. Her hands reach for mine. “Don’t, Thomas. Don’t say it. Don’t say anything that might ruin this memory for me.”

  “It won’t ruin it, Princess.”

  There are tears in the corners of her eyes. I cup her cheek, wiping her tears with my thumb.

  She grabs hold of my hand, her lip quivering. “Please. There’s nothing you could say that would change this reality.”

  “Oh, Princess, there is.”

  She gives a sad half-laugh.

  “Thomas, this afternoon when we came here, I told you that my fantasy was to have a night of my own choosing, a night that no king and no prince decided for me. I wanted my first time with a man to be with someone who chose me. And you gave me that. Tomorrow everything will change—but tonight, please let me have this. Don’t ruin it by telling me that this time isn’t what I think it is.”

  Her words slay me, stop me in my tracks. I wish I had more time to think.

  I have no idea what her reaction will be, when she finds out the truth. She could yell or scream, possibly slap me. Gladys and Reggie would get involved, hear her screams about us sleeping together before our wedding night … which could cause rumors to spread about the not-so-virginal princess.

  She would be mortified. I would be ashamed.

  Fuck.

  I don’t want any of those things. Best-case scenario, she’s overjoyed, wraps her legs and arms around me, and rides my cock into forever.

  But either way—me telling her the truth tonight or tomorrow—won’t change the fact that, regardless, we are getting married. This is a royal arrangement and it is happening.

  Not like I’d let anything stop us from getting hitched. This woman is my Princess and my Queen.

  This woman is mine.

  Maybe it would be better to wait until our wedding, to not tell her ahead of time.

  Maybe it’s better to wait until she’s walking down the aisle, until I lift her veil, and she can see that I’m her husband. It would be a massive surprise. She’d see that I’m her Prince Charming, and be so relieved it’s me that she’d forget to be angry.

  I don’t know.

  Looking at her now, her face revealing how badly she wants this time with me to be hers, unconnected to her father’s plans for her, or Rochester’s plans for her, I decide that my princess needs to live this fairy tale.

  “I will do anything you ask of me, Dahlia, now and forever.” I pull her mouth to mine, kissing her softly. Then I kiss her nose, her chin, her cheeks, her brows. I kiss her eyelids and I kiss her neck. I want to kiss more of her. I want to kiss all of her.

  “I love that you’re giving me this,” she whispers. “No questions asked.”

  I kiss her hands, her palms, her fingers. Not rushing, because deep in my soul I know she and I have our whole lives ahead of us.

  “No questions asked,” I tell her.

  Then I pull my princess up and lead her outside.

  15

  The sauna is warm and dry, but not fiery or unbearable. Since it was just turned on, it’s still comfortable with our clothes on. But we don’t want to be dressed.

  We want to be bare and exposed.

  We aren’t taking this one night together for granted.

  And I know it’s an unspoken truth; we aren’t saying this with words, but I don’t need words from Thomas right now. Right now his eyes say everything.

  They are hooded, heavy on me.

  His eyes say yes, yes, yes.

  His eyes say now.

  Knowing Reggie and Gladys are sound asleep, the cabin is quiet, and the two of us are alone, I feel safer than maybe I ever have in my life.

  Of course this situation pains me. But I’m focusing on the fact that if the circumstances were different, I might have not had this night.

  If Thomas hadn’t been the one assigned to escort me home. If Lucas had come instead. If the snowstorm hadn’t hit so hard, and if the tires of the Land Rover hadn’t swerved. If there wasn’t this cabin.

  If it weren’t my heart and his heart, beating as one. If, if, if.

  There are so many reasons why this shouldn’t be happening. This is too good to be true. But ever since I was a little girl I’ve believed in magic.

  I believe in fairytales—and no, Thomas is not the Prince Charming I’ll be marrying.

  Of course we can all do what we want, whenever we want, but there are consequences to our actions. And I know running away with Thomas—who hasn’t even suggested that idea—would be horrible for the country of Rochester and devastating to Elexia.

  Maybe if I was a different sort of girl, maybe then I could daydream about the possibility of a life that wasn’t the one I have.

  But you can’t deny who you are. I know my life is not my own—and that isn’t necessarily the worst thing in the world, to have a life of sacrifice.

  And even saying that, I sound so privileged and ridiculous.

  Sacrifice, me? Really?

  I’m going to be living in one of the most exquisite castles in the world. Married to a Prince who is known to be kind and gentle and honorable. I’m not being sent away to a dungeon, with a monster as my master.

  So yes, I can forfeit the deepest desire of my heart, because I don’t need forever love.

  Who would be so lucky to have that? I would never imagine myself being the sort of person who would have a love that lasts a lifetime.

  Maybe Reggie and Gladys have that, and I’m so happy for them. I don’t begrudge anyone if they find their soul mate, especially if that person also happens to be their spouse.

  But I’m a realist.

  I’m realizing that now, as my fingers are on Thomas’s belt buckle, as I unzip his pants and let them fall to the floor of the sauna.

  I am a realist.

  I always called myself a romantic, daydreaming about that happily ever after. But in the space of a day I am no longer a child holding on to romantic fantasies.

  Thomas made me a woman and now I see.
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br />   His pants are on the floor. He stands before me, unbuttoning the pajamas I wear. I step out of my pants and he does the same. I unbutton his uniform, revealing his bare chest, strong and protective.

  His arms wrap around me and goosebumps cover my flesh even though I’m in a sauna.

  My body responds to him.

  He draws me close, embracing me like he’s my lover—because for this night, he is. My arms wrap around his neck, my cheek is against his chest, and I don’t want to move. I want sweat to trickle down my body, between my breasts, between my thighs. I want sweat to coat his skin, and I want our bodies to melt into one.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “I could hold you like this forever.”

  I bite back the pain, desperate to hold on to what I have right now. My fingernails dig into his skin, yet he squeezes me tighter, as if knowing I need something more, deeper, visceral. Raw.

  “Take me, Thomas. Take me again. Take me away,” I tell him. I don’t look in his eyes; instead, my eyes rest on the glowing embers in the corner,

  There’s a machine that makes them glow; electricity turns them red. Flip one switch, and the room changes from something cool and dank into something hot.

  Something alive.

  Thomas runs his fingers over my back, down my spine, to my bottom. His fingers graze along my ass, and I close my eyes, sighing in pleasure, not wanting his gentle stroking to stop.

  I caress his skin as well, my hands running along the taut muscles of his back, until I hold his firm ass. I smile, finally daring to look up at him.

  “You say you train your unit in the Royal Guard … but, Thomas, you can’t make an ass like this. You were born with this.”

  “So you’re what, an ass woman, are you?”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “I guess I am.”

  “I’m an ass man, myself.”

  “And you like my ass?” I know I’m being coy, fishing for compliments, but I don’t care. I like this game.

  His fingers run up and down my ass crack, and he moves my ass cheeks apart, widening them with his finger. Pressing against my hole, into my hole, unexpectedly—but also so right.

  “Your ass is so gorgeous, Dahlia.”

  I nod, ever so slightly, licking my lips. My fingers glide to his groin, stroking his cock nice and slow, pumping him as he fingers me from behind.

  His cock is so hard, so meaty, and I just need more of him. Now. I press my lips to his, kissing him hard. My tongue darts past his lips quickly. I want to inhale him and taste him, be filled with him in this small way.

  Preparing myself for the other way I’m about to be filled.

  He squeezes my ass and turns me around, spanking me softly as he does.

  “Touch yourself, baby,” he tells me. “Touch yourself, you know you want to.”

  I do as he says, my feet spread apart, one hand bracing myself against the wall, my other hand rubbing circles over my clit, squeezing tight.

  I feel his cock against my ass and I arch my back so that he runs his tip up and down my pussy. It gets me wet, his hardness against me, and I crane my ass against him, turned on by the way he commands me.

  I rub myself harder and harder, until my juice drips down my leg. It’s always been so easy for me to get wet, but this? With Thomas? It’s like my cunt was made for him.

  My hand moves faster, using two fingers in a circular motion. Using my hand to brace against the wall is useless. I can’t help but turn around, my back against the wall. Thomas grabs my knee and pulls my leg up and around him, so he can get a better view of my dripping pussy.

  “Princess, you’re so fucking wet.”

  Thomas strokes himself hard, watching me. I’m grinding my hand against my pussy, harder and harder, this time squirting my release against his cock.

  “I want more of your pussy juice on my cock,” he tells me. “I need your come all over me so I can fuck you from behind.”

  I want to use my come to get him lubricated, and I keep gushing. It’s exhilarating, watching what my body can do,

  What Thomas makes my body do.

  His hands stroke my tender pussy, and then he pumps himself with my come. Not wasting a moment, he flips me around.

  I brace myself against the wall, this time with both hands. I sink against the wood paneled sauna, sweat beading over my breasts, wanting so badly for him to give me everything his body has to offer. Wanting so badly to give him everything that I have, too.

  He spreads my ass cheeks, edging his hard length into my ass. For a second it hurts like hell. Not a bad hell, not a hot and fiery hell.

  It feels like a hell that’s perfect for naughty girls like me.

  I moan. He brushes my hair away, his hot breath against my ear. He whispers, “I’ve got you, Princess. You know you want to be filled with me.”

  He’s right; it’s all I want. He presses deep inside me, and a perfect pain ripples through my core, in the best possible way. I inhale, hot air filling my lungs, and I am complete for the first time in my life.

  My whole body is awake. Every fiber of my being is giving in to this. He has one hand across my chest holding my bouncing tits in place as he pounds against my ass.

  He is so deep in me. His cock is so big, so hard. So mine.

  I want him to come in me, deep and hard. I’m glad we’re fucking this way, because I didn’t want to use a condom with him. I wanted to be filled with his seed.

  And now I am.

  Now.

  I am.

  “This is everything,” I whimper. Our bodies are puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly. He holds me close to him as he comes, and the warm cream crashes into me.

  I don’t want the shockwaves to stop; I want this pulsing magic to surge through me forever.

  He comes, and we’re undone.

  He comes, and we’re put back together.

  16

  After, we walk into the chalet. The only sound is our feet. Our breathing has slowed, and our hands are still clasped. Our hearts are entwined.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, I love this woman. I am ready to commit my life to her—and tomorrow night we’ll walk down the aisle, and I’ll reveal the truth to her, offering her what I hope will be the happiest surprise of her life

  We fall asleep, her on the couch wrapped in a blanket, me on the floor on a makeshift mattress of quilts. I kiss her palm as her eyes flutter close.

  “Thank you, Dahlia,” I whisper into the night. “Thank you for this fantasy.”

  She’s already asleep, exhausted by the emotional day full of firsts. Our bodies are worn, used in the most sensational ways.

  I fall asleep, ready for the day ahead, knowing I have some calls to make as soon as I return to the palace.

  The next morning, we’re greeted by a humming Gladys. She’s in the kitchen brewing coffee, but since the cabin is small she’s just steps from us.

  “The princess sleep well?” she asks.

  Dahlia stands up from the couch, stretching. “I slept wonderfully, Gladys,” she says, her eyes meeting mine, stealing a glance at me. Quickly though, she averts her eyes, not even offering me a morning hello. Instead, she’s all business. “Thomas, do I have time to shower before the Royal Guard arrives?”

  “Yes, though I’ll go out to the SUV right now and make a call on the radio to confirm they are on their way.”

  Reggie walks out of the bedroom at the tail end of the conversation. “I’ll trek out with you, Thomas, and have a look at things in the light of day.”

  Still dressed in the uniform I slept in, I take a mug of coffee from Gladys. Reggie takes one, too, and we make our way outside as Dahlia slips into the bathroom without a backward glance.

  My jaw tenses, realizing she’s probably protecting herself from the reality she’s facing. Saying good-bye to Thomas, a man she’s grown to care for.

  “I’m guessing everyone is busy at the palace today, with the royal wedding,” Reggie says as we cross the deep snow, holding the steaming mugs of c
offee in our hands. Anyone who has grown up in Rochester can manage walking through snow without injury, and certainly without spilling coffee.

  “I’m sure you’re right. Hopefully the Guard can make it down the mountain quickly to retrieve the princess.”

  I have never been so anxious to return home as I am right now.

  When we get to the Land Rover, I use my radio to call Thomas. He picks up the signal right away.

  “We’re ready when you are,” I tell him. “We had company last night.” I try to be discreet, knowing Reggie is listening. “The cabin owners arrived and met the princess. They were a bit disappointed the prince wasn’t with us.”

  Thomas seems to pick up on my tone, and I’m grateful we’ve been friends for so long. “Roger that, Thomas,” he replies. “Should I bring anything specifically?”

  “Just get here as soon as you can, I have an urgent matter to attend to at the castle.”

  When I return to the cabin, Gladys explains that their little old cell phone managed to get a signal for just a moment.

  “The princess asked if I had a phone, and thankfully mine worked. Of course the signal dropped. She went outside trying to get a stronger signal, but it didn’t last for more than a minute or two.”

  “Who were you calling?” I ask Dahlia, who appears freshly-showered. Her hair is wet, and I hope it dries before she has to trek to the SUV, since it’s so frigid. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

  “I was calling my sister, Iris.” She smiles at Gladys and Reggie. “Iris just married Prince Garrick of Alpinweiss.”

  “Oh, we know all about that,” Gladys says, filling her coffee. “Your darling country of Elexia has become quite the sensation in the headlines. Three royal matches all at once. You are the three luckiest princesses in the world.”

  “Right,” she says softly. “I’m so lucky.” She blinks quickly, and Gladys must notice, because she pats Dahlia on the hand.

  “Oh, darling, marriage is a big leap—even for a princess, I must imagine.”

  “It is quite a lot to take on.” Dahlia attempts a smile. She’s in her wool dress from yesterday, and once again looks the part of a princess. “Tell me,” she asks. “How did you and Reggie meet?”