His Royal Majesty : A Royal Wedding Romance

by Cassandra Bloom

  Mila could only sigh and sob and watch in blistering astonishment when he rose towering and deadly before her eyes. His face smoldered with molten passion. Her cum shimmered on his face. His mighty hands swooped down to catch and hold her.

  Oh, Blessed Mary Mother of Jesus, please God, what was happening? God and Mary and Jesus couldn't help her now. He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up off the seat. He sat her on the very edge and heaved her legs around his waist. Every move wrung a scream from her panting lips.

  Oh, Jesus! Oh, God! Oh, please! She could pray all she liked. He was in charge here. He was God, her God, and he had her where he wanted her. He had her bare legs spread. He made her wet pussy cum again and again, and he hadn't even taken his clothes off yet. His eyes said it all. He would own her and dominate her. He would bow her before him until she worshiped him, just like the rest of the world already did.

  He fixed her with his penetrating eyes and ripped his pants open. “You want it, don't you? Is this what you want? Is this what you've been waiting for?”

  She could only stare at him in shock. Of course, she wanted it. He already knew that, but instead of bringing it out and unleashing it on her, he paused with his pants lying open. He nodded at her. “You want it? Huh? You want that thing?”

  She couldn't reply. She could only put out her hands and take it. She touched her fingertips to the path of black hair leading under the waistband of his briefs. The angled ridges of muscle disappeared around his hip bones. Something evil and monstrous and wicked and huge waited for her under there. Did she dare touch it? Did she dare wake the dragon from its slumber?

  She raked her fingers down to that waistband, and her wrist grazed the warm mound hidden underneath his briefs. He set his hands on his hips and waited. He could wait all day for her to be ready. He wouldn't do this for her. She had to take that step of her own free will.

  She shrank from touching it. Why? Didn't she want it? Of course she did. She wanted it more than anything. She took a firm hold of herself and slipped her hand under the elastic. Soft curly hair surrounded her on all sides, but the comfortable warmth drew her down into a bed of crinkled skin and pulsing desire.

  Marcus's jaw clenched tighter, but he didn't take his eyes off her. He watched her explore inside his pants until she found that whip snake buried between his legs. Her fingers choked its neck, and he contracted his abs against her wrist.

  Mila watched the effect of her hand on his impassive visage. The more strain she saw, the more confident she became. She stroked his length down to his bushy patch of hair and dragged the loose skin folds up to the head.

  His breath caught in his throat. “Fuck, yeah, baby. Fuck, yeah. Oh, fuck.”

  The faster she stroked, the more turned on she got. This cock was all hers to do what she wanted with. She could suck it dry. She could sit on it and ride off into the sunset. She could bend over and let it drill her to kingdom come. As long as she had this, she had him. She owned him.

  She tightened her grip and yanked. She could make him blow into his pants right now if she kept this up. Just thinking about that cock hidden under his briefs made her weak in the knees. She panted as fast as he did. Her pussy hungered for it.

  He sucked in his breath, and when he let it out in a short, agonized gasp, his hand closed around her wrist. He clamped down so hard it hurt, and she whimpered low. “You horny little devil. You want that thing? You want me to give you that thing?”

  He didn't wait for her answer. He dropped his pants around his hips to free the dragon from its cave. It came up in her hand, raw, pulsing, angry, brutal. She bent down to kiss its angry head, but he already moved between her legs. He cradled her ass in his two big paws, and the dragon reared its head to hunt its prey.

  Mila watched it close in on her. She lost all awareness of her hand still surrounding its throbbing shaft. Without meaning to, she guided it into the delicate folds between her legs. Without meaning to, she rubbed its head up and down over her slit and circled it around her clit. She moaned and rocked her cunt toward it.

  Marcus pumped his hips between her thighs. His prick slithered up between her petals, and her dribbling juices slathered down his shaft. He plowed it hard against her clit to make her squeak. When he pulled it back, he wedged it tight against her opening, and he wouldn't withdraw again. He held it there with powerful certainty. He knew where he was going. He wasn't going anywhere else.

  Mila whined and cried, but he wouldn't back down. He nodded down at her. “Oh, yeah, baby. Oh, yeah.”

  She heard her own voice, but she couldn't understand how it could be making those words with no help from her. “Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah.”

  She wanted it in there. She needed it in there. Maybe he didn't guide it there at all. Maybe her hand did that all by itself.

  The next thing she knew, her world split in half. His hot thick meat cracked her flesh apart, and he leaned it into her with all his might. She convulsed all over. Her hand flew back to support her against the seat, and that left him free to plunge his massive cock into its depths.

  He didn't jackhammer her into submission, though. He went about this with the same insistent mastery he brought to every project in his life. He screwed it in, one millimeter at a time. If he encountered any resistance, he paused until it dissipated before his lordship.

  He nodded with the slow passage of his snake into her quivering hole. “That's it, baby. That's so right. You know it's so good. Come on. Come on. That's right. Oh, fuck, yeah. Fuck, baby, that pussy is so damn sweet.”

  Her mouth fell open. He bent over to plant a kiss on her lips, but she couldn't respond. She could only stare up into his eyes searching her soul. Holy Mother of God, that was so tight and hot and good. That cock was so thick and hard, she couldn't stand it.

  He arrived at his cock's natural limit. The head nudged her cervix. All at once, he arched his back. His cock made one quick plunge out and into its depths again. Mila shrieked, but he already started pumping. He beat that wicked dragon against her tight fissure harder and faster than she could ever imagine. His black pubis knocked her clit to smithereens. She exploded into sensational orgasms before she could stop herself.

  He wrapped his muscled arms around her waist and held her sitting straight up against him. He worked his piston with mechanical expertise. His shaft glided to her very center on a slick film of sweet desire. When he withdrew to her quivering curtains, he brought a spurt of steaming nectar with him.

  Mila hung suspended in his arms. She couldn't move forward or back or right or left. She didn't have to. He did all the work. He gritted his teeth and snarled in her face, but his quick thrusts came too fast and hard for him to talk dirty now.

  What was he doing? Mila couldn’t tell. She knew only the overpowering intensity of his spike hammering her and her blessed tissues greeting his every stroke. She could sing and laugh and cry and pray all at once for that intoxicating invasion into her being.

  He bent further forward, and his pounding beat got louder. It matched the pulse thundering in her veins. His lips caught hold of her mouth, but nothing could stop him. He fell forward with his hands on the seat behind her ass, and still, their sticky flesh slapped together, stuck, and ripped apart for another shrieking union.

  Mila couldn't take anymore. She couldn't cum anymore if she wanted to. She collapsed back on the seat, and he rode her down flat. His bulk crushed her onto the black leather. She couldn't breathe. His mouth ground against her ear, and his scorching breath stabbed into her brain. He bellowed out loud, and a lightning bolt of hot jiz stabbed into her guts. The foaming cream oiled out around his shaft.

  Mila got ready to sink into a dizzy pleasure coma, but Marcus caught her up one more time and flipped her over on her chest. He pushed her face down into the seat. Mila closed her eyes. She didn't need to understand how he got his cock back inside her so fast, but he woke her up with a wicked slap on the ass.

  She heaved off the seat, but another slap followed. Inch
by inch, she started to understand. Those slaps came from his hips against her ass. His prick plowed her furrow deep and hard. She collapsed back on the seat in a moaning heap.

  He plunged to his depths. Her contracting muscles milked the heady jiz from his spike. He pinned her to the seat with one hand and supported his shoulders with the other while his piston pounded against her upturned backside. Mila drifted through heavenly clouds of rapturous pleasure. His cock excited every inch of her pleasure palace, and seething oceans of orgasm cascaded over her and carried her away.

  Marcus passed his hand across his forehead. “Phew! That was amazing.”

  He coughed and straightened his jacket. Mila hitched up her pants and tucked her breasts back into her bra. She arranged herself as best she could in the same place on the seat, but she couldn't think well enough to speak.

  She kept looking out the window, but her head still spun from all those mind-blowing orgasms. What in the world just happened to her? No man ever fucked her like that. He pumped her full of his hot sauce and blew her out of the water. What was she thinking? She was supposed to keep this professional, have his baby, and see ya later, alligator.

  She wasn't thinking. That was the problem. She let her body get the better of her. She let every rule sail out the window while she swizzled on his smoking hot cock. Damn, he was so hot! He must be the greatest guy in the world in the sack, and she would never have him again. He ruined her on every other guy she would ever meet as long as she lived.

  She cradled her swimming head in one hand, but she couldn't clear her thoughts. How could she think about doing it with him again? Where was her self-respect? She had to get out of this limo. She had to get away from him where she could think.

  His voice broke in on her confusion. “I suppose you'll want to get to your new condo. You probably want to see where you'll be staying for the next nine months and get settled in.”

  Mila spun around. “What?”

  “The condo,” he repeated. “You probably want to go there and unwind after...Anyway, it's right around the corner. Where's your luggage?”

  She looked around. “What luggage?”

  “You're moving into the condo, aren't you? Don't you have a suitcase or something?”

  “I didn't know I was moving into the condo today. I thought I would start living there when the clinic confirmed I was pregnant.”

  He shook his head. “You start living there now—if you want to. You can stay somewhere else as long as you want. I just want to make sure you're all taken care of. As long as you're doing all this insemination stuff, you might as well start reaping the benefits.”

  She blinked the stars out of her eyes. “All right. I didn't bring any luggage, but I suppose I can go there now. I can drop off this box, at least.”

  The limo pulled up in front of what looked like an office building. He led her into the lobby, and they rode the elevator all the way to the top floor, the twenty-third floor. The elevator opened into the biggest apartment Mila ever saw. The ceiling towered high overhead. Vast windows let brilliant daylight streaming in through the roof and three walls.

  The living area undulated up and down on many levels. An open-plan kitchen married into an elevated platform with couches and easy chairs overlooking the city. A luxurious bedroom sat on the mezzanine floor above the kitchen.

  Mila stared at the place. “You can't mean for me to stay here for nine months.”

  “Sure.” Marcus handed her a set of keys. “This one here opens the lobby door during off hours. This key locks the elevator to take you down to the parking garage. You'll find the car in space number 10. These are the car keys. You can take it anywhere you want, and here is a gas card for fueling up.”

  She stared at him with her mouth open. “You can't be serious. This is way too much.”

  “It's not enough for what you're doing. Here's a bank card loaded with your spending money. I understand you want to transfer some of the spending money to your mother's mortgage, so here's the phone number for the banker handling the account. Just explain what you want to do, and he'll handle it.”

  She took the card and the number. “Thanks.”

  “Just do me a favor, will you? Don't transfer any money from your spending account until the following month. I wouldn't want you to be left high and dry without spending money.”

  “You don't have to worry about that. There's no way I could spend $10,000 in a month.”

  “You'd be surprised. Just do it this way to set my mind at ease, all right?”

  “All right.”

  “Good. The grocery down the street will bring you a delivery every three days. I set the order for lots of lean meats and fruits and veggies, but feel free to change the order to anything you want. Just hold off on the pickles and ice cream.”

  Mila laughed. “Okay.”

  He turned to go. “If you tell me where your luggage is, I can have it sent up.”

  She darted forward. “Hey, Marcus.”

  He turned back.

  “Thanks. Thanks, for...all this.”

  He whirled around. In a flash, he was on her. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her feet off the ground. He sat her down hard on the kitchen counter and fought his way between her knees. He mauled her mouth with passionate kisses.

  She couldn't do anything but kiss him back. She wasn't expecting this. What did he mean?

  At last, he tore himself away. “I had an amazing time with you today. Almost too amazing. I don't know. I don't know what to think, but I better go now before we do it all over again. I can't thank you enough for what you're doing, and I don't mean what we just did in the limo. I should be thanking you for that, too. I never had sex like that before in my life. You're amazing. You really are.”

  Before he could say anything else, he hurried out of the condo. A moment later, the elevator dinged and hummed away.

  Mila slid off the counter. His lips still burned on her mouth. His tongue still tickled her taste buds. Holy fucking crap, that guy was hot! He thanked her for what they just did? She should fall on her knees and kiss his feet for what he just did.

  Her knees wobbled when she tried to walk. She sat down on the couch, too inebriated to move. She could only stare straight in front of her, but her whole body quivered with excitement and arousal. Even now, after he left, she ached for him inside her. She ached for his prick in her hand and his jiz draining out of her cunt to wet her ass against the seat.

  His jiz and her cum dampened her pants and turned her on beyond belief. What did he do to her? He turned her from a professional to a blithering sex maniac. He made her his slave. If he walked through that door right now and grabbed her, she would fall into his arms and orgasm her way to screaming ecstasy all over again.

  She wanted him. She wanted all of him, all the time. She wanted to lie down here on the couch and wait for him to come back and take her. Her mind invented countless combinations and positions in which he would take her. She would cum and cum and cum, never ending. He would have to tie her to the bed to stop her attacking him the moment he walked in the door.

  She panted and sobbed, but he didn't come back. He wouldn't come back. He wanted her to have his baby. That's the best way she could serve him now. She lay there for hours until darkness enveloped the city. The lights came on.

  She slid her hands up her body to her breasts. She squeezed her breasts and thought about him massaging them and pinching her nipples. One hand burrowed down her pants to her saturated crotch. She beat her clitoris until she wrung one last orgasm from her exhausted body, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't as good as the countless orgasms he gave her with that wicked dragon of his.

  She spent three years working in the same office with him. She spent three years on the phone with him and learning the most intimate secrets of his business. Only now did she understand what he was really like, and now she would never get him back.

  Three weeks later, Mila went to the Roman bathroom in her upstairs suite in th
e luxury condo where she now lived. She sat on the toilet and pissed on the testing strip. She set it on the sink, but when she came back half an hour later to check it, she didn't see a speck of purple in sight.

  She carried the strip downstairs and called the clinic. “I'm supposed to be undergoing artificial insemination and I've been testing my urine for ovulation. I just used my last strip, and I haven't ovulated yet.”

  “You better come in.” The receptionist made an appointment for that morning.

  Mila found herself in the same doctor's office. The doctor smiled the same reassuring smile. “This happens sometimes. We might need to test your ovaries. You might have some hidden fertility problem we don't know about.”

  Mila froze. “How can I have a fertility problem? I'm twenty-seven years old.”

  The doctor shrugged. “We see it all the time. You're never too young to have problems, but first we'll do some routine blood work. Sit right there. I'll do the draw now, and we'll have the results in fifteen minutes.”

  She tightened a strap around Mila's arm and took a vial of blood. Mila pretended to read magazines in the waiting area, but her heart raced. What if she had some fertility problem? What if she couldn't get pregnant at all? Her whole deal with Marcus would be off. She would have to find some way to return the $100,000 he already advanced her. That would mean she couldn't pay off her mother's mortgage after all.

  Nightmare scenarios haunted her. That was the longest fifteen minutes of her life. At last, the receptionist called out, “Mila? You can go inside now.”

  She resisted the urge to run back to the doctor's office. She sat there alone for another five minutes before the doctor came in. The doctor set a file folder on the desk and smiled at Mila. “The good news is you don't have a fertility problem.”