DOUBLE PRINCES: A Twin Step Royal Romance (With BONUS Book His Tight Little Brat)

by Cassandra Dee

  Because her cunny seemed to get even tighter as I pushed forwards, the walls squeezing me with unbelievable force.

  “Keep it up,” I commanded my brother. “She’s fucking wet.”

  And I watched as her soft folds parted to take more of my massive cock, her pussy lips stretched so thin they were like rubber bands surrounding my shaft, gripping like all hell.

  “Unnnh,” grunted my twin, indicating that he was all the way into her mouth, Summer’s beautiful body taking us both deep, tight, servicing two men. And like clockwork, we began the rhythm. In, out, in, out, our dicks disappearing into her orifices, making her feel good, the girl moaning, squeezing, squealing between us as we used her body, made it ours.

  She was absolutely gorgeous and completely wanton, men kneeling at her head and between her legs, servicing her without abandon, massive shafts disappearing and reappearing in her mouth and pussy as we pumped, our hips like pistons, desperate for relief.

  But we’d underestimated the girl. Summer was nubile and young, and things came easy to her. With a jerk, a squeal, and then a massive sigh, the girl came, a full-body orgasm shooting through her curvy form, her flesh quivering and jiggling as her cunt clamped down hard on my dick, milking it. Meanwhile, she sucked hard on Hayden’s pole and he erupted, overflowing her mouth with his seed, pumping semen as she lapped furiously, determined to swallow it all.

  In the meantime, I’d completely lost control and was drilling like a madman between the legs. When her pussy spasmed one more time around my shaft, I roared and gave it up, ejaculating reams of cream into her body, sowing those fertile fields with my seed.

  “FUUUUCK!” I roared, my voice guttural and harsh as Summer’s nubile form shook, caught in the throes of pleasure as our balls emptied into her. The girl was the ultimate receptacle, a bit of white oozing from her mouth, dropping off her chin, while her cunny pumped my dick full force, coaxing the last of my semen out.

  And finally, we were done. The three of us collapsed in a heap on the floor of the relic room, panting, spent, our muscular, virile bods on either side of that sensuous female form.

  After a moment, Summer sighed. “Holt, Hayden,” she breathed softly, letting one finger drop to swipe at the moisture on her thighs. “Is this going to happen again?” she asked sweetly, even as she brought her finger up to her mouth for a taste.

  We watched, enthralled, as her little pink tongue slipped out to savor the drip. It was unbelievably dirty and my bro and I lost it. Our shafts were back at full mast in seconds, our hulking male forms on top of her again.

  “Oh yeah,” I ground out. “Round Two.”

  And the girl giggled, parting her legs immediately.

  “Oh good,” Summer said slyly. “I’m so glad I came back to Slovania.”

  And it was on … again.

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Summer

  “Mom, it’s fine,” I assured Candace. We were in my mom’s rooms at the castle, sitting on the big embroidered coverlet. “I’m fine here in Slovania.”

  My mom looked concerned, her eyes worried.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I know this came as a surprise to you.”

  That was an understatement. It’d been more than a surprise, it was a nuclear blast with the shotgun wedding and now my physical relationship with my uncles. But at least Candace didn’t know about the last part yet.

  “Mom,” I said soothingly, “don’t worry about a thing. I love it here, you know I speak the language fluently.”

  “Sure baby,” she said, “but why don’t you want to go back to New York? Don’t you need to get back to school? I don’t want you to feel trapped here because of me,” she added worriedly.

  I smiled gently.

  “Mom, the last thing I feel is trapped,” I assured her. “I took a leave of absence because this is a great opportunity to immerse myself in Slovanian culture. Besides, I’m applying for independent study. With everything the Halborgs have to offer, I’m sure I can get course credit.”

  That placated her somewhat but Candace still looked worried.

  “I don’t want you to be behind,” she said slowly. “I know how hard you’ve been studying to be a UN translator and I don’t want you to get off track,” she said. “I can ask Halson to send you back on the royal jet,” she offered.

  I shook my head again.

  “Not necessary Mom,” I assured her. “Besides, I’ve become friends with his brothers, Holt and Hayden, and they’re showing me around Slovania City personally.”

  That caught my mom’s interest for a second.

  “Oh right, Halson’s younger brothers,” she said, smiling. “Aren’t they doctors or something?”

  “Plastic surgeons,” I replied. “In fact, we were at Operation Smile together, they decided to take some time off to do charity work on behalf of the royal house,” I added as explanation. “They’re really talented.”

  “Hmm,” mused my mom. “So you knew them from before? How come I never heard of them?” she asked quizzically.

  “No reason,” I said vaguely. “We lost touch after the trip ended but now that you’ve married their brother, I guess we’re related now.”

  My mom nodded, satisfied, but that was the problem exactly. Holt, Hayden and I had started up a taboo relationship of sorts, a nighttime liaison even though we were related by marriage. Each evening after the hall lights dimmed, I snuck over to their quarters and let myself in, burrowing in that massive, circular bed. And the twins and I would get down to business, exploring each other’s bodies, losing ourselves in the magic of the physical.

  It was amazing, the touching, fondling, and stroking, the way they made me feel, how breathless I was after each session.

  “Holt, Hayden,” I’d sighed while toweling off, running the rough terry over my skin. The twins had introduced me to the Jacuzzi in their en suite and we’d used the spray jets to good purpose, the pulsing water hitting me between my legs, spurting against my cunny before the brothers gave it to me hard, taking me just above water level, their dicks running in and out. “Where is this going?”

  But the twins were vague.

  “What do you mean?” rumbled Holt, his hand slowly slipping over my ass, caressing the round mounds. “Where do you have to go?”

  “Oh you!” I’d squealed, batting lightly as his hands even as I wiggled. “You know what I mean.”

  But Hayden wouldn’t take me seriously either.

  “Baby,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “You’ve got us. We’ve never performed better, either on the operating table or in bed. What more is there?”

  And I only laughed because I knew what he meant. Our orgasms were explosive, so massive that I sometimes blacked out momentarily, the stars behind my eyes sparkling and flashing as I lost myself. And the sessions in bed helped me focus, cleared my mind so that I was able to pursue my studies, really delve into Slovanian language full-force.

  So I let it go for the moment, instead letting myself enjoy the physical, letting my body soak in the close contact with these two gorgeous, dominant alpha males.

  But I had to placate my mom in the meantime.

  “Candace, don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’m actually getting ahead in school by being here. The Halborgs are taking me to the Latin Quarter this evening to show me the bazaar and night market, I’m going to learn so much about traditional Slovanian life.”

  I didn’t add that the night market was also known as the red light district, replete with strip clubs and spice markets selling both legal and illegal substances. But what Mom didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.

  “Okay honey,” she said, comforted that Hayden and Holt were showing me around personally, taking me under their wing. “As long as the twins are with you, I feel better. They’re princes of the kingdom, you’re going to be in the best company,” she reassured herself.

  And it was true. Hayden and Holt were absolutely amazing … both in bed and out, in every
way possible.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Holt

  The more we saw of her, the more we liked. Or maybe “saw” is the wrong word, “taste” would be a better descriptor. Because we spent each night sipping at Summer, nuzzling the folds between her legs, licking at her nipples, suckling her clit, losing ourselves in that sweet body.

  “Ummm,” murmured the girl, stroking Hayden’s ball sack. “More.”

  And my brother and I gave it to her, my twin obligingly squatting over her head so she could suck his testicles, me positioning myself between her legs to run my dick hard into that sweet space.

  And it was like this every night … and quite a few afternoons too. Because my bro and I are off the reservation at this point, we can’t get enough of the brunette, shirking our medical duties, rescheduling appointments so that we can spend time with our best girl.

  But Summer’s amazing and worth every sweet minute. Her interest in Slovania and everything our country has to offer makes us swell with pride, our chests puffing out at her innate feel for our language, her interest in our culture. We were at the night market in the Latin Quarter and Summer was already darting this way and that, fingering different silks, sampling the perfumes.

  “Madam, this one is ten lirahs,” intoned the shopkeeper, a wizened old man draped in a colorful kaffiyeh.

  “Ten lirahs!” exclaimed Summer with mock horror. “Seven at the most!”

  “No pretty lady, this is best quality,” bargained the old man. “I do nine for you.”

  “Eight then,” she replied sweetly, reaching for your purse. “Eight.”

  And the deal was done, all negotiated in Slovanian no less. But what made us proud was Summer’s ability to adapt to our customs, to embrace our ways. After all, bargaining is pretty much unheard of in the United States and our girl’s ability to negotiate like an old hand, to live whole-heartedly in the Slovanian manner, made us proud, made us fall that much harder for her.

  So when the brunette skipped ahead to a house of ill-repute, our hearts began hammering.

  “Holt, Hayden,” she called, stopping in front of a sign with a picture of a donkey. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “Why?” asked my brother slowly, “what do you think it is?”

  “Oh you know,” she replied casually, throwing us a flirty smile, “a place where girls dance for boys.”

  That was true. The music blaring from the half-open doors gave it away, combined with a rainbow of flashing lights. But this particular place was special, because the donkey is sacred in our culture. When the kingdom was nothing more than an idea, donkeys were used as all-purpose animals, from farming the land to pulling caravans. Significantly, when a man and woman were joined in marriage, the groom paid a “dowry” to the bride’s family consisting of donkeys. The wealthier he was, the more animals were gifted.

  Of course, that was long ago. Gifting donkeys is a little less literal these days. Now, if a woman dances for you at the Donkey Club, she’s essentially offering herself for marriage. And although Summer didn’t know this, Hayden and I were well-aware of the implications.

  “Baby,” Hayden said persuasively, “let’s go somewhere else. This isn’t the place for you.”

  “Why not?” said our girl flirtatiously, quirking a brow at us. “You think I can’t dance?”

  “Of course not,” I assured her. “I’m sure you dance better than Salome herself, it’s just that we’re running short of time.”

  But Summer wasn’t listening and had already darted inside, disappearing into the dark interior. Oh shit, where was she?

  My bro and I followed her blindly, the door thunking closed behind us. At first, we couldn’t see a thing it was pitch black in there. But slowly our eyes adjusted and it was exactly as expected. Naked, sinuous women twisted on daises, using filmy scarves to simultaneously conceal and reveal their nude bodies.

  One woman wearing nothing but pink high heels beckoned as we stepped inside, running a pink scarf suggestively between her legs, letting the material slide against her secret space.

  Another woman used a piece of traditional fabric as a sling and unbelievably, hung upside down from the pole, slowly spreading her legs so that her snatch came into view, glistening and oiled under the spotlight.

  And all around, men cheered, their voices raucous and noisy, even stamping their feet in appreciation. More than a few chanted obscene phrases in Slovanian along the lines of “female donkey” or “female ass.” Yeah, our language isn’t gentle or discreet when it comes to sex.

  But where was Summer? Our girl had disappeared into the darkness and we had to find her in this house of ill-repute, hustle her out of here, she was still young and nubile after all. I glanced around frantically. This was no place for a nymph in her teens, even one who was totally uninhibited, completely carefree in bed.

  But a new dancer had come on stage and the music seemed to grow exponentially louder, the lyrics something about a wandering soul longing for his home country. Oh shit, why did the singer have to warble like a grown ass, ululating almost, my eardrums were splitting.

  My bro and I tried to ignore it, staring down the bartender, looking for the manager, anyone who could help us locate our little lost lamb. It was so fucking frustrating, we ran into chairs, tables, almost bumped into a wall in our panic to find her.

  Finally, Marko the manager put a hand on my arm and shouted above the din.

  “Sire, perhaps you should enjoy the entertainment? The girl you are looking for is here, let yourself hear the music, enjoy the dance.”

  This made no sense. Summer was here as a guest, not as the latest hoochie on stage. But Marko kept going.

  “She was so beautiful, so insistent, that we let her take the stage,” he shouted over the noise. “She will make many lirah.”

  And that got my attention. Her beauty? Lirahs? WTF?

  Hayden was already ahead of me.

  “Brother,” he ground out, nodding at the stage. “Look.”

  Because Summer was on-stage and amazing to behold. She danced like a pro, shimmying her hips in time to the music, letting the traditional Slovanian beat carry her away.

  Throwing her brunette curls over her shoulders, the girl bent over, lovingly running her hands down her calves. They were tight, taut, and showed off to the max in four-inch heels, elongating her legs, making her look even more like a nubile fawn.

  But Summer balanced carefully, swinging one foot around so that she was perched precariously at the edge of the stage. And as she bent over, her dress rode up, revealing inch after inch of creamy thigh.

  It was here that my dick punched out, public place or not. Because the brunette’s thighs are one of her best assets. Instead of skinny sticks, Summer’s got fleshy, meaty drumsticks, perfect for devouring. And she knew just how to work it.

  Slowly bumping her butt up and down, her thighs jiggled in time to the music, up, down, up, down, her head thrown back, eyes closed in ecstasy as she danced. She wiggled, shimmied and sighed, all the while humping her butt in rhythm and the crowd went crazy, stamping their feet, cawing with cackles, egging her on. More than a few lirah were already drifting around her sensual form, falling like snowflakes to the ground.

  And Summer kept going. Sweeping a fistful of money up in her hand, she lifted the hem of her dress slightly so that her g-string came into view, that strip of purple silk bisecting two perfect, round ass cheeks. Just like her thighs, they were perfect for licking and biting, juicy grapefruits ready to explode.

  But she knew how to work it. Grasping the bills in her hand, Summer stuck them into her panties one by one, lifting her g-string at the crotch to lovingly run the money over her pussy, moistening the bills, before tucking them in at the hip.

  And then it got even dirtier. She shimmied out of her dress so that her gazongas were bare, those pale Double Ds on display in the low lights, the dress nothing more than a pool of purple silk on the floor. Getting on her hands and knees the brunette bega
n crawling towards a man, a younger one sure, handsome by some standards if you liked craggy brows and black hair.

  But I could see why she was doing it. Because the dude had a bill in his hand and even in the low light, everyone could tell what it was. It was a thousand lirah note, the aqua ink clearly visible, the hologram almost blinding in its authenticity. Hayden and I watched, immobile, as she approached him on her hands and knees, licking her lips lasciviously, wiggling her ass, bare except for her high heels and the g-string bulging with notes.

  The dude was practically salivating, staring at her, his dick already out, massive and pulsing, ready to run his hands all over her body, make her work for that bill, but Hayden and I weren’t going for it. In fact, we were absolutely incensed at the thought of him touching her. Sure, some petting is okay but the guy looked like he was ready to run his rod into her body, spurt his essence into her moist spaces.

  So we put a stop to it.

  Flicking open my wallet, I pulled out a bill and handed another to my bro.

  “Yo!” I called to the manager. “Here,” I commanded.

  Marko was on it immediately, signaling to the lighting guy, directing him to put spotlights on us.

  Because we held bills of another denomination altogether. Golden in color, almost garish with sparkles, the ten thousand dollar notes gleamed under the lamps, decorated with elaborate scrolls, a stag prancing in the air, and best of all, the twin images of Hayden and I emblazoned on its face.

  That’s right. We’re memorialized on our country’s biggest bill, our images handsome and imposing right above the words “In God We Trust.” And best of all, Summer would be getting our faces in her sweet spot … in more ways than one.

  Hayden beckoned and Summer immediately swiveled, leaving the loser dude gaping, his dick deflated. She pranced our way, still clad in nothing but that purple g-string, the sliver of fabric between her legs by now sopping wet, her pussy lips gleaming on each side.

  “Come closer little girl,” I growled, my eyes never leaving her form, caressing her with my gaze.