by Madison Faye
With a small cry, I rose up on his shaft, whimpering as I felt my lips gripping at his thickness, and I kept going, gasping, until I could feel just the head inside. I panted, taking a small breath, before I slowly sank all the way back down, feeling every damn royal inch of him fill me.
His hands grabbed my ass tightly, fingers digging into my skin as I started to slide up and down, slowly bouncing on his cock and letting the pleasure roll through me. Magnus eased back against the headboard, hands still on my ass as I started to ride him. I moaned loudly, my hands on his chest, fingers clawing at his skin as I raised my ass up and down, letting his cock sheath inside of me again and again.
We started to move faster, my tight pussy gripping his slippery, throbbing shaft tighter and tighter. My moans filled the room, mingling with his masculine groans and the wet sounds of our bodies coming together.
I moved faster, my eyes closing and my hair tumbling around my face as I just started to ride him, I yelped as I felt his palm connect with my ass with a spanking slap. The pleasure flooded through me as the heat from him spanking me tingled over my skin.
“Ride that fat cock, Princess,” he groaned, his palm coming down to spank my ass again. I cried out in pleasure, squealing and moaning for him as I started to bounce up and down every damn inch of him. He speared into me again and again, his balls slapping against my ass and my clit dragging over his thick shaft. His hands slid up my body, cupping my breasts and teasing my nipples as he started to buck his hips up to meet mine, slamming his huge cock into me again and again.
The room spun, my pulse thundered in my ears, and I could feel my whole body start to shatter. I was going to cum riding my husband’s big dick, and that thought alone pushed me even higher.
“I want you to cum for me, Imogen,” he growled, his cock thrusting in and out of me as the moans tumbled from my lips. “Cum on my big cock, Princess,” he hissed. “Your pussy is mine, and I want to feel it cum, right now.”
He thrust in deep just as I sank down on him, his fingers rolled my nipples, and my clit ground against him.
And I shattered.
I screamed as I came, my whole body erupting in fire and pleasure as I went to pieces on him. He kept thrusting, his hand holding me tight as his glorious cock drove in and out of me, carrying me from one climax to another, making me scream his name until I was sure I was going to pass out from the pleasure.
Slowly, he let me down, and I collapsed onto his chest with a slow, contented moan. I panted into his skin, feeling his strong powerful arms wrap tight around me.
“And now you’re mine, my queen,” he purred into my ear.
“I was yours from the second I walked into that room,” I whispered back.
I felt him grin.
“I know.”
I giggled, rolling my eyes as I pulled away to look him in the eye. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a little cocky?”
He shrugged. “Nope, never heard that one.”
He grinned, winking at me.
“You’ve got quite the big ego, my love,” I whispered, biting my lip.
“The word you’re looking for is cock, Princess.”
I laughed, but then suddenly gasped as he quickly spun us over. I moaned as his hand pinned mine to the bed above my head, his cock still buried inside of me.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled as he slowly withdrew until just the head was nestled inside.
“I would hope you’re never done with me,” I whimpered.
“And I never will be,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me. “I love you, Imogen.”
I melted.
“I love you too— oooh.”
I cried out as his hips rocked forward, driving every single inch of him into me. His hands tightened in mine, pinning them above my head as he began to roll his hips. His muscled, toned, perfect body rippled above me as his mouth claimed my lips. His cock drove into me again and again, every throbbing inch of him spreading me wide and filling me to the brim. His balls, heavy with his cum, slapped against my ass, and his growls mixed with my moans as our lips seared together.
My legs were spread wide around his muscled hips, my feet up in the air as Magnus began to fuck me. His thrusts were relentless, his hips a rolling blur as he pumped his big dick in and out of me again and again, driving me right to that edge again.
I wasn’t on the pill, and he sure as hell wasn’t wearing a condom. Knowing that I very well could get pregnant that night, on our wedding night, only turned me on even more — only got my blood pumping hotter. Knowing that forty weeks from that very night, I could birth him an heir, had me gasping and clawing at my sanity as another orgasm threatened to pull me under.
His strong hands moved to clasp me around the waist, gripping me tight as he drove every inch of himself in and out of my trembling body. My hands went around his neck, holding him tight as my whimpering moans filled the room. We moved faster, and faster, our bodies crashing together again and again, until I knew I was going to go screaming over that edge again.
Magnus groaned above me, muscles straining and rippling as he brought his lips crashing into mine.
“I’m going to cum, my queen,” he growled. “I’m going to cum and I’m going to fill this tight little pussy up to the brim with every damn drop of my seed.”
I cried out, whimpering at his words and wanting everything he had to give me so badly. I was so close, my body shivering in ecstasy and rippling with pleasure as he drove into me again and again, his thick girth rubbing my clit on every thrust. His hands slid down to grab my ass possessively as he thrust his cock balls-deep inside of me, and suddenly, it hit me like lightening.
I screamed his name as I came, the orgasm shattering through me. My king — my husband, my love — roared above me, his hips crashing into mine and his lips hungrily seeking mine as his whole body tightened.
I cried out, shaking in the throes of my climax as I felt his cock swell up huge inside of me, before suddenly, I felt it. I moaned, rocking my hips against him as I felt rope after rope of his hot seed fill me up. I squeezed my eyes shut, my arms tightening around him as the second climax thundered through me. Magnus’s hands gripped me tight, his mouth buried in my neck as we slowly came down, slowing to a stop as we panted against each other.
“So, that’s what I’ve been missing out on,” I panted, giggling as he laughed into my skin.
“Tip of the iceberg, I can promise you, beautiful,” he growled.
“That felt like a whole lot more than just the tip.”
He pulled back, grinning hungrily at me.
“I want more,” I whispered, shivering at the way his eyes burned fiercely into mine. I could feel his cock throb inside of me, staying rock hard as he slowly began to grind into me.
He suddenly pulled out of me, and I giggled as he flipped me over, before moaning as I felt him move up behind me, his knee spreading my thighs. His cock pulsed hot against my pussy, dragging over my lips and making me shiver in anticipation as he leaned over me, his mouth by my ear.
“As if I would ever deny my queen,” he purred, his hands tightening on my body again as his cock started to ease inside.
“Do you think I’m— oh,” I gasped as I felt him ease inside, his cock pushing his cum even deeper. “Do you think it took?”
He groaned, knowing what I was talking about.
A child. An heir.
Magnus growled, hands tightening on my ass as his infamous cock began to fill me to the brim.
“Only one way to make sure, Princess,” he husked into my ear.
“Make me yours,” I whispered back.
“You always were, my love,” he groaned, sliding in deep and making me cry out.
“I just had to steal you away to make you see it.”
The End
Sharing Beauty
Once upon a time, a princess met her Prince Charming. And then she met his twin, Prince Charming, and things got very, very interesting…
&nb
sp; One virgin princess.
Two Prince Charmings.
Twice the happily ever after?
Oh, this is a fun one, trust me ;).
Sharing Beauty: A MFM romance,
coming May 16th.
Chapter 1
Cade
“You ready for this?”
I rolled my eyes at Caspian as we stepped through the formal front entry-way into the palace.
“Sure,” I sighed, heading immediately to a bar set up by one of the immense windows overlooking the countryside of Avlion around King Lucian’s castle. My brother followed, wordlessly nodding as I ordered us both a bourbon, neat, from the middle-aged bartender.
“Thanks.”
I tossed two $100 bills on the bar and turned to give Caspian his drink.
“Oh, sir, the bars are open for the ball.”
I glanced back at the man.
“That’s fine, consider it a tip then.”
I liked being generous with money. And not in an obnoxious flaunting way, but in meaningful ways. Both of us were, actually. Twins think alike like that. I liked rewarding hard work, especially when it probably wasn’t being appreciated. No one appreciated a good bartender.
I donated to charity, often. I supported a wounded warrior fund back home in our kingdom of Marland. Caspian supported a non-profit that made sure single, destitute mothers and their children were clothed, fed, and housed. And yes, we both tipped ludicrously well. Because in the end, it was just money. But by the same token, money was everything when you didn’t have it by the truckload like we did. Our father had raised us to appreciate that, and in our world of royalty and privilege, that was a rare lesson to learn.
But Dad had taught us well. After all, he’d come from nothing — a chauffeur’s mechanic son who’d caught the eye of the Princess of Marland. One look, and he’d never looked away.
That was another thing Dad had taught us — keep fighting for what you want, and never let someone else tell you you can’t have it “just because.” Our dad knew what he wanted with our mom, and he fought tooth and nail for it. It’d been quite the scandal in Marland when the pure-lineage princess and only daughter of King Horace took a shine to her chauffeur’s son. I mean, princesses don’t date mechanics. And they sure as shit don’t marry them.
But this one did.
So yeah, Dad had taught us the value and in-value of money, because he’d had none of it and then more of it than he’d ever know what to do with. Mom viewed wealth and privilege the same way he did — that it was a responsibly, not a gift. Having it meant helping those who didn’t, not lording it over them.
And this, to make a very long story short, was why I did things like tip $200 for two drinks at an open bar.
“I assure you, sir, it's not necessary.”
“I know,” I said with a smile. “But humor me.”
“Sir—”
“Please keep it.” I shook my head. “It's not charity, I just like rewarding hard work.”
I sipped the bourbon. “Fantastic pour, by the way.”
The guy grinned. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
I turned back to my brother as we strode back down the gilded always of Lucian’s castle towards the sounds of crowds and music coming from the ballroom.
Was I ready for tonight? Not really, but here we were.
“The bourbon’s good, at least.”
I snorted at my brother. As if the King of Avlion was going to be serving cheap shit. I hadn’t caught the label, but I had no doubt the bourbon we were drinking was nothing short of priceless — collector’s vintages, or a private label or something. The truth was, neither of us were ready for tonight. It’d been a hell of year, and that was putting it lightly. Twelve months ago, our father had finally lost his battle with cancer. Fuckin’ cancer — the fight even a guy as much a fighter as him couldn’t win. A few months after that, we’d had to step up hard in order to squash a power-grab for the throne from within the advisor’s council.
Marland laws being what they are, our parents had ruled together — equal power as both king and queen. My parents had been loved as king and queen. People loved their love story, loved the way they ruled, and loved the way they’d been “of the people.” But of course there’d always been those who hated my father for not being “royal by blood,” and for “soiling” the bloodline.
Fucking idiots.
But some of those people had been on the royal council. With our father’s death, my mother took over as full regent and these dickwads had decided to act. Mom was a strong damn woman, but the internal betrayal hit her when she was still grieving and when she wasn’t expecting it. Caspian and I had stepped in and squashed that real quick. But shit, it takes a lot out of you to physically and legally defend your mother’s claim to her titles from some idiots waving arcane, ancient laws on “birthrights.”
So, first a death, then fighting for our own legacy. And then, there’d been Emilia. The betrayal that cut the deepest.
Twins are close. I know you’ve probably heard that, but let me tell you, it’s truer than you know. Caspian and I thought the same thoughts most of the time. We liked the same music, read the same books, and wanted the same things.
Including women.
When we were younger, it’d driven wedges between us. Back when we were teens, we’d squabbled over it more than once, when both of us had crushes on the same girl from school, or when some pretty young thing fell for both of us. We’d fought physically on more than a few occasions, before finally, something had clicked.
Why, when we shared everything in life, were we fighting over which one of us got the girl?
After that, things got a lot easier, and a lot more fun. And not to be vain, but we got it. I mean, we were fabulously wealthy, young royalty. We were blonde, blue-eyed, and handsome — the beauty from our mother and the brawn of our mechanic father.
And we came as a package deal — believe me when I say there weren’t a whole lot of girls that said no to that.
And I won’t lie, we’d had our fun. But as time went on, we got bored of it. We got tired of the meaningless. We started wanting something more. But “more” was something that was harder to share. Sharing just sex for an evening or two with the two of us was one thing. But asking a girl to share her heart with both of us? Well, yeah, good luck with that. We’d tried, once or twice, and it’d been disastrous. The girl either couldn’t wrap her head around having more than just something dirty and physical with two guys, or if she was looking for more, it certainly wasn’t with two men. No, that sent them running.
Until Emilia, better known as the Duchess of Ames.
Emilia had started as a fling. We’d met her at some function, drinks had been drunk, and one thing led to another, which led to us tearing her clothes off and taking her together in the back of her limousine. But the fling had continued. It’d just kept going, until it wasn’t so much fling as it was relationship. And for a while, we thought we’d found it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the closest thing to perfect we’d found yet. She wanted us both — all off us. She wanted the physical, and she also seemed to want the emotional too.
We got close, she got deep, and then, the knife got us in the back, and we never saw it coming.
We never did know if it was something she’d planned or if she’d just woke up one day deciding to stab us. But whatever the cause, one day she was our girlfriend, and the next, her lawyers were contacting ours with settlement agreement for her to keep quiet about the “sordid royal scandal” she’d been “forced to participate” in.
Yeah, fuck.
There’d been words, and shouting, and fury. And she’d sat there the whole time, quietly looking away as Caspian and I roared across the lawyer’s table at her. In the end, we’d paid, of course. It wasn’t worth dragging our mother’s name and our father’s legacy through the mud for. Hell if I knew why the fuck a duchess needed cash, but we paid and she didn’t go to the press.
Caspian w
as still sure it was something we said, or something that happened outside of us that pushed her into that corner. Me? I just thought she was a heartless bitch.
So that's where we were coming in here tonight. The wounds of that mess were still real, even though it’d been six months. After that, Cas and I had stepped the fuck back from seeing anyone, in any capacity. We stopped going out, stopped seeing girls at all. Cause fuck that. It wasn’t worth it, even if it meant celibacy.
But tonight wasn’t “going out.” Tonight’s suiters ball was more than going to a club or something. It was a royal necessity, really. We needed to be seen actively looking for brides. Hell, it’s not like the populace of Marland exactly knew about our tendency to “share.” So that’s why we were at the ball that evening — to at least make a show of looking for something real. After all, Mom wasn’t going to be queen forever. And no one really knew what to do about twin first-born heirs where the throne was concerned, but the rules about us being married before either of us could become King still stood.
“Look, we don’t have to stay for the whole thing. Just long enough to make sure Logan and Magnus don’t do something fucking stupid like go after one of King Lucian’s daughters.”
I snorted, killing the rest of my drink.
The ball was for all sorts of single princes, princesses, dukes, duchesses, and all manner of young royalty. But the real belles of the ball were of course Lucian’s own three daughters — Isla, Imogen, and Ilana, the three virgin princesses of Avlion. Okay, it's not like they’d been advertised as virgins, but there were rumors about them never dating.
Prince Logan of Torsund and Prince Magnus of Zale had been our best friends for, well, since forever, even if those two were wild cards when it came to acting as they should in public. Mags because of his proclivities for fucking anything and everything with a pair of tits, regardless of them being appropriate or not, and Logan because of his curse.
