Unprincely

by Eden Finley

  “Others won’t see it that way if it got out, which is why it sucks I couldn’t tell Beatrice where to shove it today.”

  “Question,” Roman said, pulling into the palace gates. He showed his credentials and then turned to me. “If you could do anything in the world, what would it be? You can’t tell me you have your heart set on being queen.”

  I stared out the windshield as I truly thought about what I wanted. I had no clue. “Like everything else, being queen is something I know I’d be able to do. Put on another mask, another façade, and do my job.”

  “If you’re into wearing masks, you could become a superhero. Although, that would mean you’d have to start wearing underwear. So that’s probably out.”

  “Definitely. I’d have to wear them on the outside of my clothes, and I don’t know if I could pull off that look. Plus, I did ballet as a child. Tights are harder to get into than it looks.”

  “Okay, so no superheroing. Do you have any hobbies?”

  I shrugged. “I like painting and took a few art classes at university, but it’s not like you can make a living doing that. I want to help people, but short of donating a shit ton of cash to charities, I don’t know how. I want to contribute to society.”

  The car pulled into the parking lot at the palace, and Roman killed the engine. I liked that he didn’t drop me off at the entrance with others to guard me while he parked the car. He was doing that thing where he treated me as an equal instead of his charge, and I could see why Xander revelled in it.

  “Well, I still think Xander will find a way to make you queen,” he said. “What better way to contribute than helping shape the future of an entire country? The world’s your oyster and all that shit.” He opened his arms wide.

  “How profound. I’ll only do it if you agree to be my permanent bodyguard.”

  “Under one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No more masks. Not with me, and not with Xander.”

  I leaned across the console and met his lips with my own. The kiss was brief—two seconds, tops. “I haven’t had to wear a mask for you yet … oh, wait, except for the sex one when I first met you. But that was an actual mask, and I think you were more meaning metaphorically, and—”

  “D?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re cute when you ramble.”

  “Sorry.”

  Xander

  Carl:

  Rumour has you floating around in Paris. I’m in town. Want to catch up later tonight?

  Reading between the lines, I knew he really meant want to fuck?

  Xander:

  I have a tight schedule. Sorry.

  My phone vibrated with an incoming call. It was him. He probably didn’t buy my bullshit excuse because I always tried to make time for him when I could. He didn’t understand it would never happen again. I hadn’t been with him since that night when everything went to shit, and I’d been purposefully ignoring him since then. Finally relenting, I hit answer. “Hey.”

  “Been a long while since you responded to me. I figured I’d better call to make sure it was you. If you weren’t all over the news, I thought you might’ve died.” Great choice of words, Carl. His voice was deep and familiar, and hearing it transported me back to last year when I was running around being the typical playboy prince the news made me out to be. I was no longer that guy. I hadn’t been that guy for a long time.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “So, your tight schedule doesn’t have anything to do with a certain blonde the tabloids are declaring as the future queen of Ashwick?”

  Even if Delia wasn’t in the picture, I was done with Carl. Last time I was with him, it got my sister killed. At least Delia gave me an excuse. “Yeah, actually, it does. We’re together.”

  Carl scoffed. “But she’s so—”

  “Amazing, beautiful, funny. Take your pick.”

  “Right. But can she give you everything you want?” He lowered his voice. “And you know what I mean by that.”

  You have no idea. “Let’s just say we have that covered.”

  “So that’s that then.” The comment, while flippant, had an undertone of irritation.

  “It’s been that for the past year. Why do you think I haven’t responded to any of your messages?”

  “You were grieving. I figured you needed space. Are you really going to throw away eight years together for—”

  “It was eight years of casual hook-ups whenever you were in the country. It’s not like we were together for real or that we’re friends. We never had a future.”

  “That’s all I was to you?”

  Uh, yeah. “I’m sorry.”

  “Fucking really? That’s how it’s going to be?”

  I sighed. It wasn’t Carl’s fault I couldn’t be with him again, but that didn’t stop me from blaming our situation for what happened. I needed to let him down gently. “Did you really think the crown prince of Ashwick would be allowed to have a guy on the side? We were done the minute that title was given to me.”

  He was silent for a beat before his agitated voice said, “Right. Okay then.” And then he hung up. Great. Nice knowing you.

  I went to throw my phone on my hotel bed, but the screen flashed with a notification. It was a message from Roman. A picture message. Delia wasn’t identifiable as she had her hair covering her face, but it was definitely a photo of her on her knees with her lips wrapped around Roman’s cock. Goddamn it.

  Xander:

  Okay, photos were a bad idea. Especially when I have another meeting I need to be at in ten minutes. Nothing like scaring world leaders with a hard-on.

  Roman:

  We miss you.

  Xander:

  Coming home in two more days. What’s the fastest you reckon I could jerk off?

  Roman:

  If I was there, I bet I could get you there with minutes to spare. D says she could get you there faster.

  Xander:

  We’ll have to test that theory when I get back.

  Roman:

  Challenge accepted.

  Two days felt like another week had passed, and by the time I’d landed, got back to the palace, and debriefed Grandfather on the trip, it was the middle of the night.

  Expecting to crawl into bed with an asleep Delia and hopefully also Roman, I almost stumbled over my damn feet when I walked into Delia’s room to find them in front of the fireplace.

  Naked.

  Delia straddled Roman’s lap, rolling her delicate hips. He sat up, wrapped his arms around her, and fused his mouth to her breast.

  She threw her head back, her long hair falling over her back and landing near her tight little ass. Her feminine moan knocked any tiredness out of me.

  “Well, this is a nice welcome home party,” I said dryly.

  They both lifted their heads and smiled.

  “Thought you’d like it,” Roman said.

  “Going to join us?” Delia breathed.

  As much as my cock begged me to join in, the whole trip had me wiped. “I think I might enjoy watching instead.” I loosened my tie and stalked towards them, sitting my ass on the loveseat by the fireplace. “Carry on. Pretend I’m not even here.”

  Roman leaned in and kissed Delia’s shoulder. “Guess we better give him a show.” Lying back, Roman gripped Delia’s hips in his giant hands and controlled her movements as she rode him.

  The sight was mouth-watering, and I let out a groan. Roman chuckled, and it sent a jolt down my spine. My dick begged to come out and play, weeping precum in my pants to let me know it was ready.

  Tiredness was suddenly lost to horniness, and I couldn’t resist unzipping my pants and reaching for my cock. The first touch was conflicting—satisfying yet nowhere near enough. The urge to join Delia and Roman was almost too much, but they locked eyes with each other when he cupped her face and his thumb stroked her cheek. While I was gone, they’d developed intimacy that I wasn’t a part of. Somewhere deep insid
e, it stung a little, but I knew it was because this was new. In the long run, it’d be better for them to bond on their own—just like I needed to bond with each of them separately. Plus, watching how tender he was with her made my cock harder. We shared something precious, and I would do anything to make her ours.

  I lazily stroked myself, just enough to take the edge of desperation off but not enough to come.

  Delia’s hips increased their pace, and so did her breathing. It was if I could feel her on my cock, doing that to me instead of him. I was connected to both of them, even though we weren’t touching.

  “That’s it, baby,” Roman whispered. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sound of his deep voice coaxing Delia to orgasm.

  My hand sped up and gripped tighter, slicking precum down my shaft. Delia started her I’m-so-close moans, bringing me closer to the edge.

  I thought she was going to fall first, but Roman surprised me by shouting out and shuddering beneath her. The sight of him coming undone made me swell with pride—as if I was the one who did it to him—and when Delia fell apart moments later, I was way too distracted to make myself come.

  I watched them breathing heavy and smiling, coming down from their high, and I loved every second of it. But there was something in the back of my mind being drowned out by the endorphins and happiness. It sounded like my sister’s voice telling me it was unfair of me to put two amazing people in the position I’d forced them into.

  Granted, I didn’t know Delia well yet, but I loved everything I did know about her. And Roman … he was the perfect guy for me. He was my best friend first—my only real friend. He did things for me out of the goodness of his heart, not because he wanted something from me.

  “Need some help?” Delia asked, rising from the floor.

  I looked down at my flagging erection in my hand, but it chubbed back up at the sight of Delia swaying her sultry curves towards me. Her tits bounced as she moved, and my mouth went dry.

  My eyes found Roman, who was still trying to recover on the floor next to the fireplace. “You okay, man?” I asked.

  He waved me off, breathlessly.

  “Did you try to kill him?” I asked Delia.

  “She almost succeeded” came from his strained voice.

  Delia smiled and reached for my hand, pulling it away from my cock. Straddling me, she lowered herself onto me. She was warm and wet with Roman’s come, and it made any self-restraint falter.

  “Goddamn it.” I threw my head back and gripped her waist hard, forcing her to move over me.

  Logic and courtesy told me to slow down—that she could get another orgasm out of this—but there was no way. Her tiny body took my punishing pace, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she clenched her inner muscles and practically strangled my cock.

  I came so hard I saw stars. Every little spasm of her pussy drew out more cum.

  My hands went slack, and I melted into the couch. With my eyes closed, I breathed heavy, and I could’ve fallen asleep right then and there.

  Soft lips touched mine, and I had to force myself to return Delia’s kiss. She’d fucked me until I was boneless.

  She laughed softly. “I think someone’s tired.”

  Then her body was gone, and large hands were pulling me off the couch and undoing my shirt.

  I didn’t realise I hadn’t gotten fully undressed yet.

  Together, Roman and Delia shed my clothes and pulled me towards the bed. I moved in a half-awake state, too sated and exhausted for anything else.

  Roman got into bed behind me, his dick nestling against my ass, and Delia curled into me as I lay on my side.

  “Welcome home, babe,” Roman whispered in my ear.

  I found myself smiling. “You called me babe.”

  “Don’t like it?”

  “I love it. Relationship Roman is awesome. So much better than standoffish, straight Roman.”

  “You do realise I was never straight, right? I put that barrier up because I had to push you away.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you really want to open that can of worms tonight?” Delia asked.

  “No,” we both said in unison.

  “Get some sleep,” Delia said. “We have a big week coming up.”

  “We do?” I asked.

  Roman sighed. “It’s the anniversary …”

  Realisation dawned. “Of my parents and Annie.”

  Fuck.

  Roman

  A press conference had been planned for the anniversary of the royals’ deaths. It was a large event, which meant all hands on deck when it came to security. Because of this, I was sent home for a two-day break. I’d been pulling overtime with Delia, but it wasn’t as if I was on duty that whole time. I couldn’t tell my bosses that though.

  My studio apartment in the city was bare and small. I was rarely ever home—my contracts had been live-in with my charges until Delia. It was truly the apartment of a poor person. There were no furnishings apart from a bed and a dresser. I didn’t even have a TV.

  Coming home to the depressing state of my private life really made me question what I was doing with Delia and Xander. I didn’t belong in that world. I wasn’t royal. I was a commoner—a public servant. While Delia didn’t have noble blood, she was raised for princess life.

  A knock on the door brought me out of my dangerous thoughts. I couldn’t let doubt seep in. I couldn’t go into this relationship thinking it wasn’t going to work or it wouldn’t. Xander was determined to find a way, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted a future with him and Delia. I’d never wanted anything more in my life.

  My old royal guard partner, Brad, stood at the entrance when I opened the door. “I’ve fucked up.”

  I stepped back. “How did you know where I lived? Or that I was here?”

  “I swung by the palace only to find out you’d been dismissed for two days. Also, we’re the royal guard, dude. We have endless resources to track people down.”

  Opening the door wider, I let him into my shoebox apartment.

  He whistled. “Fuck, man, how do you live here?”

  I sighed. “What do you want? How have you fucked up?”

  “You know how Prince Quin drags us to that stupid club every other week? There … was this girl.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “If you tell me she was underage, a prostitute, or a reporter and it’s all about to come out in a tabloid, I may kill you before the palace gets to you first.”

  “No, no, no. Nothing like that. We’re not talking treason … oh shit, I don’t think?”

  “What are you rambling about?”

  “You got some alcohol?” Brad’s eyes darted around the small apartment.

  “Sure.” I went to my kitchenette and pulled out Ashwick’s specialty scotch from the cupboard, but as I reached for glasses, Brad grabbed the bottle off the counter and swigged it.

  “Classy,” I mocked.

  “I had sex with Quin. Wait … no—”

  “You what?”

  “That came out wrong. I didn’t have sex with him. I had sex … with a girl, while he was having sex with her also.”

  The tips of my ears burned. I averted my gaze and cleared my throat. “And you’re freaking out because you’re straight and had a three-way with another guy?”

  “No. Quin and I never touched.” He took another swig. “Okay, in that situation, there’s going to be like grazing against each other and shit, but I mean we didn’t purposefully touch each other. I don’t swing your way.”

  “My way?” No one at work was aware of my sexuality … that I knew of.

  Brad rolled his eyes. “Please. I’ve caught you numerous times checking out my ass, but I’ve also seen you hit on a woman at the gym. I figured …” He shrugged. And yeah, I liked to stare at his ass—it was a nice ass—but my expression at him knowing I did it must’ve been stricken, because he added, “I’m cool with it, but I’m trying to clarify what happened between me and Quin. It was all about
the girl—whoever she was—and it’ll never happen again, but what does that mean for my job? Like, I’ve fucked up here, haven’t I?”

  “Umm …” It would’ve been hypocritical of me to say yes while I still carried on my relationship with the crown prince … and his girlfriend. “Who knows about it?”

  “Quin, the chick, and you.”

  Something sits wrong in my gut. Sure, Brad and I worked together for a few months, but I didn’t think we were like friends or anything. If we were, I was totally a shitty friend. “Don’t tell anyone else, and you’re all good.”

  Brad’s eyes narrow. “Why are you being cool about this? You’re supposed to yell at me and whip me into shape.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re a stickler for the rules. I came here to hear a voice of reason.”

  “Oh. Okay. In that case, you’re an idiot, you crossed a line, and if it gets out, you’ll lose your job. So shut your mouth, put your head down, and don’t have another threesome with your charge.” Now if only I could’ve had that pep talk with myself.

  Fuck, what am I doing? This had the potential to not only end in heartache but divide an entire nation. A polyamorous king …

  “Okay, now you’re white as a sheet,” Brad said, and then his eyes widened. I could practically see the gears working in his mind and the exact moment he worked everything out. “Holy shit, you’re fucking the Hillington woman. And she’s with Xander, who’s bi too, and—”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Please, there have always been rumours, talks within the royal guard … it’s probably the worst-kept secret in the palace. Although, you sticking it to them both is pretty huge, so I think that’ll take over soon enough.”

  “Way to make me feel worse, Brad.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would you jeopardise your career for a quick fuck? I’d expect it from me, but not you. You’re a lifer. You’re all about the job.”