Natalie Vs. Prince: A Steamy Royal Romance

by Mona Cox

  “Yes, do it…” I plead him, pressing my forehead against his and closing my eyes. Slowly, he continues lowering me, his thick shaft pushing against my insides as it forces its way in. I place both my arms over his shoulders and slide my hands over his back, my fingernails clawing at his flesh as he starts to thrust. The movement of his body draws me into a trance, and it doesn’t take long for me to succumb to the siren song of desire and pleasure.

  “Harder, harder,” I find myself saying, and his body picks up the pace at once. His thrusts grow furious, an almost uncontrollable violence to the way he moves, and I relish all of it. My insides are burning, and each time I feel his cock pulsing against my inner walls the thunder of pleasure roils inside my head. Christ, this pleasure… It’s almost surreal. Why didn’t anyone tell me that men like Connor existed? I deserve to know; everyone deserves to know.

  “Don’t stop,” I urge him, fully knowing that there’s no need for me to tell him what to do. But I do it anyway, not wanting to take the risk. The ocean of pleasure is at my feet, and I want to ride this wave until the very end. “I’m going to—oh, God!” I moan as hard as I can, throwing my head back as my pussy tightens up around his cock like a vice. My fingernails dig deep into his flesh, and I hiss through my gritted teeth as if I’m in extreme pain, except, of course, what I’m feeling right now is the most intense kind of pleasure a woman can feel.

  When the waves of pleasure start to recede, Connor’s still thrusting. Watching me come was the final straw for him; right now, I don’t think that anything in the world could make him stop, so I just urge him to carry on until the very end. “Come… Come inside of me,” I whisper, my honeyed voice making my words sound like a purr. I don’t need to say more; in an instant, a violent spasm takes over his cock and I feel his warm seed hitting me at once.

  I moan softly as he cums, gushing his load inside of me for what seems like an eternity. Seriously, how is it possible for a man to cum this much? My pussy is brimming with semen, and I already feel it dripping down my thighs, the warm water washing it all away.

  “Fuck…” he finally sighs, one last spasm going over his cock before he pulls it out from my pussy. I take my legs out from his back, carefully place my feet on the porcelain floor, and then he’s on me. He pins me against the wall with a sudden movement, and then he goes down to his knees, lifting one leg and placing it over his shoulder just like he did before. There’s still cum dripping out of my pussy, and he goes straight for it, opening his mouth wide and placing it between my thighs. I close my eyes and moan as he sucks on my folds, his tongue running up and down the length of my pussy as he scoops his own seed. I can barely believe this is actually happening.

  “You drive me fucking crazy, you know?” he tells me, pulling back from my pussy and looking up at me. Before the running water washes it away, I see a few drops of cum hanging from his lips and I can’t help but smile at it.

  “No…” I tell him. “You’re the one driving me crazy.”

  I mean it. I really do.

  6

  Connor

  I open my eyes and run one hand through my hair as I sit up on the bed. Fuck, what time is it? I look at the bedside clock, the screen showing 2:07 pm in red. I can’t believe I didn’t wake up on fucking time and—fuck, I almost have a heart attack as someone fucking stirs under the sheets. Then, a tuft of blonde hair peeks from under the covers and Natalie’s smart eyes look into mine. Oh, right, that happened. Guess I’m not late after all, uh?

  After our early morning adventure—a fucking vigorous cardio session, I’d say—I wrapped Natalie in a large cotton towel, dried her off, and then carried her into my bed. She was gone the moment her back hit the mattress; to be honest, so was I. It’s rare for it to happen, but after being with Natalie I was fucking exhausted; she really brought out the best in me.

  Of course, that doesn’t stop my cock from twitching as she pulls the sheets down, showing just a glimpse of the curves of her breasts.

  “Hello there,” I tell her with a smile, and her eyes seem to widen at the sound of my voice. She sits upright on the bed, clutching the sheets against her chest, and bites on her lower lip. Oh, fuck, I can already tell that she has never had a one-night stand before. I should have fucking known… The way her innocent eyes seemed to flicker whenever I looked at her gave it way. Ah, fuck it. I guess I have already gotten her off the straight and narrow path she was on, but what can I fucking do? It’s not my fault I’m fucking irresistible.

  “The meeting,” she stammers, looking at me and biting her lip again, “we have work to do.”

  “We have lots of work to do, love,” I tell her, reaching up for her and tucking a stray lock of hair over her ear. She trembles as I touch her, but that doesn’t fucking stop me from leaning into her and laying a kiss on the corner of her mouth. I grab at the sheets, pulling them down her body, but she grabs my wrist and stops me.

  “That’s not the kind of work I’m talking about,” she tells me, a serious expression taking over her face.

  “But it could be,” I shoot back, pulling the sheets down my body. Her eyes dart straight to my cock, which is already as hard as a fucking boulder, and her face turns red. Looking away, she jumps out of the bed and starts looking around for her clothes. Ah, well, fuck it. “Here, let me get you some clothes. Yours are all wet.” I get up from the bed, completely naked, and go straight for the wardrobe. I keep a stock of ladies clothes there—from dresses to underwear—and they have proved handy more than once. It seems that most women I bring here end up with their clothes being torn off of their eager bodies.

  Grinning, I grab a small lace thong and a matching bra, and then pick a tight short dress. I know she’ll find it too revealing, but that’s exactly what I want. What? I’m a fucking asshole; you know that.

  “There you go,” I tell her as I hand her the neatly folded clothes. She takes them in her hands, and then looks into my eyes, waiting.

  “Can you turn around?” she asks me, the sheet still covering her naked body.

  “Do you have to?” I grin at her. Seriously? I can’t fucking believe she doesn’t want me to see her naked… I mean, I did more than just see her naked moments ago. But I turn around all the same, patiently waiting as she dresses.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she says as she walks past me and into the corridor, already wearing the dress, the fabric hugging her curves so tightly I almost salivate. “We’re late and there’s lots to do.” I follow after her, but then she stops, turns on her heels and looks at me with a frown. “Connor… God… Could you please put some clothes on?”

  “I’m wearing my best suit, love,” I tell her with a grin, and I can notice her struggling to keep her eyes focused on mine. Inevitably, she steals a glance at my tattoos and naked muscles, her face reddening again as she finds my hard cock.

  “Please,” she repeats sternly. Sighing, I grab a pair of boxer briefs and pants from the wardrobe, and I put them on. By the time I get to the living room, still shirtless, she already has her laptop propped up on her knees, the hem of her dress revealing her toned legs. Fuck, isn’t she beautiful?

  I sit right by her side and lean back against the couch as she looks up at me, a shy smile on her lips. “Ready?” she asks me, and I nod with a grin. I’m always fucking ready, maybe not for work, but definitely for more interesting matters. “Okay, so… As you know, your public image has taken a few hits over the years. There’s the drinking, the partying, the diplomatic carelessness, and… and…”

  “All the fucking I do,” I complete her sentence.

  “The womanizing,” she corrects me, frowning again. “So, I think that we should start by holding a press conference where you admit your failures and vow to do better. Then, we can venture into some public and visible volunteer kind of work, so that people start seeing another side of you.”

  “What about the drinking? And the partying? And the… womanizing?” I ask her, grinning like the fucking bastard that I am.

&nb
sp; “You’ll have to cut it off. All of it,” she tells me, “especially the womanizing,” she adds as an afterthought, and I’m not entirely sure if she’s talking from the perspective as the woman I’ve just fucked, or as Natalie, the PR consultant.

  “Oh, sounds fantastic; I can’t fucking wait,” I start, irony dripping out of my words. “Is that all?” She looks down at her folders, then at her laptop and back to her folders.

  “That’s all.”

  “You sure came a lot earlier just to tell me that…” I tease her, looking straight into her eyes. She purses her lips, sighs, and then looks back at me.

  “You know… I had much more than this planned, but after… after the sex… It’s not like I can remember all of it.” Even though she’s talking in a slightly awkward way about what happened earlier in the morning, there’s a slight smile on her face. A fucking good omen, at last.

  “Sex amnesia?” I chuckle. “Let’s hope that won’t happen the next time,” I tell her, and I can see the gears turning inside her head as she tries to decode my words. Next time as in next meeting, or next time I fuck her? That really depends on her, doesn’t it? You know what I’d fucking answer to a question like that. “Look, why don’t we have lunch next Tuesday? It’s Sunday, so you should be enjoying the rest of your weekend, not working. We’ll pick up where we left off by then.”

  She smiles at me, more relaxed than before, and nods. “Thank you,” she whispers, and then closes her laptop and places it inside her bag with the folders. She gets up from the couch, and I follow her to the door, opening it and standing to the side as she looks expectantly at me.

  Now, I can’t fucking help myself. I lean in for a goodbye kiss and, at the same time, she reaches for me with the palm of her hand. Reacting instinctively, I shake her hand while I press my mouth against hers. Fucking smooth, right? Alright, this was fucking awkward… But it was totally worth one final kiss.

  She smiles, her cheeks flushed, and clutches her bag against her chest. She looks like innocence incarnate, her bright eyes and full lips the epitome of fucking perfection. I’ve fucked top models, actresses, and even Olympic athletes (the hot ones, how do you like volleyball?), but I don’t think I’ve ever come across a woman such as Natalie. She seems so fucking simple… and, at the same time, so fucking beautiful.

  “You have to go now,” I tell her, looking serious. She arches one eyebrow in surprise, and then I grin. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you again.”

  I can’t fucking wait for Tuesday.

  7

  Natalie

  Christine holds the phone to my face and the glare of the screen is momentarily blinding. "Was this before or after I threw up?" There's a look of semi-concern on her face.

  Alicia jumps in. "I think that was after," she says. "Look at your face; your eyes are telling the camera that you just Jackson Pollocked the wall in the bathroom."

  "That girl's night out was the best," I say, laughing. Christine is the one friend who epitomizes the 'work hard play hard' mantra. We recently celebrated her 22nd birthday by throwing a surprise party, and to say it was memorable is an understatement. It was downright epic.

  We all laugh—Christine, Alicia, and I. We are at the UN Delegates Dining Room at the UN sipping cocktails; there's the sound of businessmen talking in the background, and Christine has her phone out, scrolling through old Instagram photos. We're all taking a trip down memory lane.

  "I swear, the world would be a better place if women ran it," Alicia says, looking around the dining room. "At the very least, there'd be a lot less conflict in the world. Christine and I both nod in agreement. Men are always trying to one up each other it seems.

  "How are you and Derek doing?" I ask Alicia, changing the subject.

  "Besides packing on an extra 10 pounds from him insisting that we eat out almost every day of the week, I'd say it's good," Alicia smiles. "And of course the sex is amazing."

  I seriously doubt it's better than the spontaneous session Connor and I shared in his shower yesterday morning—the heat from his body and the hot water ushering my entire body into the flames of desire, but I keep that thought to myself.

  "Is that the guy you met on the subway?" Christine asks. "I still can't believe that even happened. That's one of the craziest things I've ever heard. You should really put it in a book."

  Christine and Alicia continue to chat about everything from what they're currently binge watching on Netflix, to the barista at Starbucks who always manages to misspell their names in the morning.

  But my mind is still stuck on Connor, and in particular, the last words out of his mouth, “You have to go now because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck you again.”

  Do I want that?

  The sex was amazing … the best I've ever had—his lips on my most intimate areas and me being so at ease with it, but Connor is my client—one of the most important clients at Gage Price, and I can't mix business with pleasure. It's just not a good idea.

  "Oh, I see him," Alicia jumps up excitedly. "It's Derek. Excuse me for a moment ladies. I'll be right back."

  Once Alicia walks off, Christine gives me a gentle nudge.

  "What's wrong?" she asks me. "Your mind seems like it's on another planet. Is everything okay? Alicia and I have been chatting away and you're sitting here and cold and quiet as an ice cube."

  "Sorry, I'm fine," I say, shrugging her off.

  "Give me a break," Christine says. "I've know you for too long Natalie—we go way back. I know when you've got things on your mind."

  "Okay, okay … you're right," I confess. "It's Connor."

  "Prince D'Avington? What about him? Wait—you don't mean to tell me that you and he—"

  I cut her off. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

  "Oh my God!” she exclaims in a loud whisper. “Are you fucking serious?! He's insanely hot; was it good? Tell me it was amazing!"

  "What is this, a game of 20 questions?" I laugh.

  "It was good,” I say after a pause a sip of my Cosmo. “No, not good … amazing. And yes, he's hot."

  "Good for you girl," Christine says, taking a sip of her martini.

  "No, that's the problem. It's literally tearing me up inside. On the one had, he's strong, and charming, and insanely good looking, but on the other hand, I don't want to risk mixing business with pleasure. You know as well a I do—that never ends well. And I'll be up for a promotion at Gage Price soon; I don't want to do anything that's going to jeopardize that."

  "You're overthinking this," Christine says. "It's fine. As far as I'm concerned, if you're going to work your ass off for him and the firm, you can have a little fun too."

  See? I told you. That's typical Christine advice: work hard play hard.

  "Ugh, I'm just so torn," I say. "He's a client, and what we—I—did was totally unprofessional. But I literally can't get him out of my mind. There are images that I can't get off repeat."

  "That good, huh?"

  "He makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful woman on the planet."

  "They all do, when they're trying to sleep with you," Christine says.

  "But this felt so … authentic, and don't roll your eyes; I know his reputation. I'm not the first women he's ever seduces in a shower."

  "That's what they all say."

  "I mean it though!" I insist. "What we shared felt so real."

  "So, what are you gonna do?"

  "I don't know. I don't think I can allow anything like that to happen again. But he was so hot … you have no idea, and he kind of … made me."

  Christine raises her eyebrows. I can practically see alarm bells going off in her brain.

  "Well, no one should make you do anything," she says. "You have to be comfortable with everything."

  "I know," I say. "I'm resolving right now—and you're my witness—to not let things progress any further with Connor."

  "Pinky promise?" Christine asks, sticking out her pinky finger. We lock fingers and I promise
her that I'll never do anything that I'm not 100% comfortable with.

  But as soon as I agree, I start second guessing myself. Just thinking about him makes me wet.

  Is it true?

  Can I really resist Connor?

  8

  Connor

  It’s 12:15 when Natalie strolls through the dining room of Rue57, a French Bistro just a few blocks away from Central Park. I’ve never been here before, but when she suggested this place for our lunch meeting I agreed. It’s cozy and, even though it’s not an exclusive restaurant, it has a certain charm to it.

  “Right on time,” I tell her with a smile, getting up from my seat and pulling her chair so that she can sit. While I do it, my eyes roam up and down her body, the tight fitting black dress she’s wearing making it almost impossible to look away from her.

  “Wow, you do have manners, after all,” she laughs, the sound of her voice making my skin prickle; it sounds just like clear water on a sunny day. Fuck, I need to get myself together. I don’t know what it is about her, but just being around her is enough to make my heart work overtime.

  “You actually sound surprised, Natalie. I’m a perfect gentlemen, in case you haven’t heard,” I say as I go around the table and sit back down on my seat.

  “No, that’s not what I’ve heard,” she responds politely, looking into my eyes with that innocent smile of hers. Jesus fucking Christ, I could jump over this table just to kiss those perfect lips.

  “Then you’re listening to the wrong sources.”

  “Right, I should just listen to you, uh?”