Dirty Prince

by Vanessa Waltz

  I kiss him as the piercing pleasure keeps riding higher. My moans rip across the room until finally Liam seems to get frustrated. He stands, carrying me out of the chair with his dick still inside me.

  “Bend over.”

  Slap.

  “Now.”

  I wobble on my feet as he sets me down in front of the bed. My back bows over the bed as his hands circle my hips, his head pressing against my pussy.

  The little resistance I have gives way as he pushes his hips forward, and my walls cling to him as he thrusts inside.

  “Fuck!”

  I scream, clawing at the sheets as Liam pounds me hard, the slapping sounds reaching a crescendo as my body jolts forward again and again. I’ve never been fucked so hard in my life, and never like this. He pauses mid-thrust, laying his palm on my ass, and then a loud crack splits the air as he slaps me. The pain blooms over my skin like thousands of needles.

  “How about it, Princess? Still think I can’t use my cock?”

  Another vicious slap lands, striking my other cheek. I gasp at the sharp pain, even as it resonates with the pleasure from his cock still buried inside me.

  “I dislike repeating myself.”

  “No. Please don’t stop.”

  My arms tremble as he sinks in. I relish the warmth of his naked thighs touching the backs of my legs. He disappears for a second, his cock sliding out. The core of me pulses with need until that horrible emptiness is filled again, literally taking my breath away. He slams into me once, and my arms are thrown forward in an attempt to catch myself. He reaches underneath, pressing up on my clit as his cock thrusts. Oh God. All the right spots scream with ecstasy. Instead of slowly building up, I’m shoved to the edge.

  Then it stops abruptly as he pulls out and yanks me upright. Dazed, I watch the world spin around, and then he pushes me back on the mattress. His body follows mine as my legs wrap around his athletic waist. There’s not an ounce of fat on his body.

  “All those years, what did you do to get by?”

  “Vibrators,” I say in a breathless voice.

  He tsks. “There’s nothing like a real cock, is there?”

  No, nothing.

  Even the rabbit vibrator with all its settings and attachments could never replace the feeling of a real man’s cock.

  He touches my face in a gentle gesture that is completely at odds with the swift thrust he gives me. I curl my fingers in his short hair as he crushes his lips against mine. He fucks me until I ache with pleasure, until my pussy throbs with the heat pounding through his cock. No, there’s nothing in the world that could replace the man gliding over my body.

  I run my hands over his muscular back and grab his ass, urging him deeper. Liam’s weight falls over me as he tucks his head in my neck, gasping for breath. His voice rises in pitch, and I let go to clutch his damp neck. It’s hot to the touch, and he turns his head, silencing my moans with his lips. I cry out into them as my body tenses and then erupts. The glow of my orgasm rocks through me as Liam breaks from my kiss, screwing his eyes shut as his cock slams home. He cries out, and I feel his cock jump inside me and a surge of heat. His arms shudder for a few seconds, but he keeps fucking me. My skin tingles with pleasure as he traces the outline of my face. He watches me with a sleepy smile and lazily kisses me.

  Damn that felt good.

  It’s good even now, with the sparks of my orgasm fading. He pulls back just a little, as my lips still tingle with electricity.

  I want him again.

  He trails a finger down my spine. When he gets to the end, he palms my ass.

  “You may not be much of a friend, but I like the benefits.” He laughs, but the comment stings a little, as though he’s telling me I’m only good for fucking. I shouldn’t be surprised, right? This is Prince Liam we’re talking about. He has the emotional range of a teaspoon, and though he might fuck like a god, he’s not my type.

  Not even close.

  I shift away from him.

  “Where are you going?”

  I glare at him. “To bed.”

  “You’re in bed, silly.”

  “We’re not sleeping together as per the arrangement.”

  “I see how it is,” he calls after me as I stand and walk toward my guest room. “Just ride him and ditch him. Is that right?”

  “Like you care!”

  Naughty Princess: Trying for Royal Baby?

  Daisy

  There’s nothing like being shoved into the same car as the person you were sort of forced to marry and who you also had casual sex with.

  Liam watches me, taking up half the vehicle with his very presence. It’s hard to be in the same space with him; hell, it’s impossible to not look at him. I keep thinking of what he’s like naked.

  “You used me for sex.”

  I finally glance at him. His freshly shaven cheeks shine with moisture. A dark blue wool sweater stretches over his broad chest, and his khakis are a distinctly darker shade. His hair is swept to the side. The hot, preppy, boarding-school look is strong with him.

  “Yeah. So? I bet you do one-night stands all the time.”

  “Usually the girl wants what I have. You just wanted my cock.”

  I shrug. “We went over this, and you didn’t seem to mind the terms.”

  He rubs his thumb under his bottom lip in a gesture I decide is extremely hot. “I’m just not used to it, that’s all.”

  Whatever. I don’t have the time to ease the insecurities of rich, white men.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Kirkenhaum. It’s the first stop of our honeymoon tour.”

  “What am I supposed to do there?”

  “Mainly we’ll just be photographed meeting people. We’ll sleep in B&B’s.”

  “So I’ll get to see the country.”

  “Yes.”

  Cool. This might not be so bad. Liam gave me back my camera, so I can take pictures and send them back home. Even if I never write an article about my time here, maybe he’d consent to a travel essay.

  I have to use this time for something.

  “Shit.”

  I blanche as I scroll through my list of emails. The painful call I made to my parents this morning repeats in my head over and over. They sounded very upset, but they said they understood.

  They’ll never forgive me for getting married and not inviting them.

  When I get out of this, I’ll explain everything. They might not get it now, but they will.

  “What’s going to happen when you take over the throne? How are we going to explain this?”

  I watch the countryside roll past his head through the window. He lifts his shoulders into a shrug.

  “Dunno. Maybe I’ll have a parade of strippers march through the palace. I was thinking of getting some of those little people and making some kind of show.”

  I seethe at him. A little-people show? “You are a walking PR nightmare.”

  “What? They did it on Game of Thrones!”

  Then he smiles, and I know he’s fucking with me.

  “Then he chokes to death because he’s a miserable bastard.”

  “When I’m king, I won’t make the same mistakes as Joffrey.”

  “God, I hope so.”

  “Stealing will be punishable by ten lashes, not twenty.”

  My eyes widen at the serious look on his face, until it cracks with a grin again.

  The green plains roll past my window as we drive out of the bustling capital into what seems like for a Californian, miles and miles of fields and little hamlets. It’s a beautiful country. We pass a town with castle ruins from the twelfth century, and then I see a sign for Avenbaum.

  “Oh!”

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing, it’s just, I wanted to go there. It was part of my trip.”

  “Whatever the fuck for? There’s nothing there.”

  “Ruins, Liam. Some people like historical-heritage sites. Other people deface them with porn.”

  “I t
old you that my picture adds to that piece, and I will stand by that in court.”

  Good luck with that, buddy.

  He leans forward, rapping on the partition before opening it. “Take the exit to Avenbaum. My wife would like to see the Ruins of Mars.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Liam slams the partition shut and sits back.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  The car takes the exit, and we turn right onto a narrow road that looks wide enough for only one car. There are fields beside us with bright yellow flowers, and the sky is a muddy gray. Light rain sprinkles the glass. Somehow the dreariness of the sky doesn’t overshadow the vivid colors of the plants and flowers. There’s a sign with a drawing of the ruins, and we head in its direction. We drive up a steep hill, the tires crunching on gravel as Liam gives me long-suffering looks.

  “Look, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “No I won’t.”

  “Yes you will. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I roll my eyes at him. Of course he would find the ruins unimpressive. He’s lived in a castle his whole life.

  The driver parks the car, and Liam gets out without preamble, waving off his security. The parking lot is small, only big enough for a dozen or so cars. Only half the spaces are filled.

  The chilly air blows into the car as the door opens and Liam helps me out. I would get out myself, but apparently princesses are never supposed to do anything themselves. Our security opens an umbrella and holds it over our heads. I can’t describe how incredible awkward it is to have someone else literally do everything for you, like silent but very helpful ghosts. They never talk to us unless asked a direct question, because we’re royal.

  The parking lot leads to a small hill that overlooks miles and miles of Anglefell countryside. White dots that I realize are sheep move over the green landscape. Sitting on the hill is a giant tower, the only remnants of some sort of hold. There’s a line to get inside, and I fall into place behind the last person.

  Liam lets out a laugh. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing? Getting in line.”

  “Daisy, don’t be stupid. We can cut to the front of the queue.”

  “No! I’m not going to do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s rude. If you did this anywhere else, you’d get your throat cut.”

  “It’s not rude when you’re the prince. You realize that, right? This land technically belongs to me. I can come and go whenever I please.”

  “Just because you can be a jackass doesn’t mean you should. Standing in line with the common folk won’t kill you.”

  “But I’m not common. I’m royal.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re above them!”

  “It literally means I’m above them,” he says in a slow voice, as though I’m incapable of understanding speech.

  “If you set an example that you don’t think of yourself as better than they are, you just might be able to improve public opinion of royals.”

  Liam scowls as he looks at the line of ten or so people, and huffs indignantly as he steps beside me into the line. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and plays an angry game of Candy Crush, his thumbs aggressively stabbing the screen. God forbid he stands in line for five minutes.

  People whisper to each other as they glance at us and the guard holding an umbrella over our heads.

  “Could I have that, please? And you can wait for us in the car. Thanks so much.”

  I take the umbrella from the stunned guard, who looks at Liam for clarification. He rolls his eyes at me and nods, and the guard turns around to jog to the car. Liam watches me with a bemused smile.

  “What?”

  He gently takes the umbrella from my hands, holding it over us both.

  “Rule number one: never send your security away.”

  I look around. “There’s hardly anyone here.”

  A woman in a transparent, blue parka shakily approaches us, a camera wrapped around her neck.

  “Yes?”

  “Your Highness, I was just wondering if I could please… if it’s possible—?”

  “Yes,” I answer for him. “Of course.”

  He stands next to the woman, and she excitedly hands me her camera. I switch it on and aim it at them.

  “Liam, put your arm around her.”

  His eyes flash at me before he lets out a stilted laugh and wraps and arm around her shoulders. I take the picture, and then Liam and I pose together for her. By the time we’re done, five other people are asking for pictures. Despite the fact they’re not supposed to talk to royals.

  Liam looks over the swarm of heads and glares at me. “This is why we don’t send away security. Ever.”

  “Point taken.”

  After Liam poses for half a dozen selfies, we climb the tower, and then the stairs to the freezing wind. The view is even more amazing at the top. I can see the bulge of the hill and our black car sitting in the parking lot, and the forests that surround the lot.

  “Beautiful view,” Liam says in a clipped voice. “Let’s go.”

  I’m about to ask him what’s the rush when a horde of people spill from the tower, shouting for the prince. Liam clutches my hand in a bruising grip, and my heart stops at the grim expression on his face.

  “Prince Liam! The princess is here too!”

  Several voices scream with excitement, and my heart pounds as we’re quickly surrounded by people who demand pictures, who want a piece of the fantasy he represents.

  Liam scowls. “Fuck!”

  The stairs are crammed with people, but Liam draws me into the protective circle of his arm, forcing me down the stairs, pushing them aside. By the time we reach the bottom, there are reporters everywhere.

  Liam’s guards are at the entrance. They shove the crowd aside as we walk out. Liam doesn’t relax his grip on my hand. It’s incredibly odd to see the patented Prince Liam smile on his face when I can feel the tension in his hand. I suppose I should smile too and pretend nothing’s wrong.

  “There was no one here!”

  I look at the packed parking lot, which already has a media van parked inside. A film crew streaks madly over the lawn as they spot us.

  He watches them with a sad sort of smile. “Everywhere I go, they find me. It doesn’t take longer than five minutes, usually.”

  Dozens of voices suddenly unleash a barrage of questions.

  “Ma’am! Could you please stop for a moment?”

  “What brings the prince to the Ruins of Mars?”

  Liam turns his head. “It’s part of our tour.”

  “Where else is Your Highness planning to visit?”

  Liam smiles quellingly at the reporter, refusing to answer. They follow us all the way to the car, shouting questions as security keeps them back. He opens the car door for me, and I duck inside.

  A wave of relief crashes over me when it slam shut. Liam sinks into the cushions, his smile evaporating as soon as he’s out of sight. An uncomfortable silence builds between us as he looks through the window.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “You couldn’t know,” he says with a sigh. “It’s my fault.”

  “But I sent the guard away.” My hands shake as I remember the crowd pressing in on us from all sides.

  “I knew better than to just show up here.”

  “A-at an old ruin?”

  His mouth sours, bitterness etched in every line of his face. “Daisy, I can’t just show up to places. I have to make proper arrangements with security, talk to people beforehand.”

  I try to imagine every outing dictated by something like that, and I can’t. “What if you want to go to a ball game?”

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you said you could do anything.”

  “I was fibbing. I can’t just show up impulsively to a football match. It would cause a riot. It’s just not safe.”


  I didn’t realize I could ever feel pity for someone with so many riches. He can’t even walk to the grocery store or actually even enjoy the countryside. Taking a walk without a security team? Unthinkable.

  Liam shrugs. “It’s who I am, Daisy. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “I didn’t realize how bad it was.”

  “Do you feel sorry for me now?” he says in a suspiciously cheerful voice.

  “A little.”

  “Sorry enough to do something for me?”

  “I’m not blowing you in the car!”

  His grin widens.

  The welcoming crowd at Kirkenhaum is the largest I’ve ever seen. Tanned stone buildings pass by, reminding me of Bath.

  “This reminds me of Bath.”

  Liam leans back, seething. “We are not English.”

  “I know that. Your inability to queue proves that.”

  “Stop comparing us to the fucking English.”

  “All right. Geez, you’re crabby.”

  “I don’t want to hear another comment comparing our culture to theirs.”

  “But there are similarities.”

  He waves his hand. “Only an American would say that, and that’s because you have hot dogs and American football for your culture.” Liam shoots me an icy glare as he ducks to open the window on the ceiling.

  “Hot dogs and football? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Just calling it as I see it, love.”

  He grins at my outrage as he stands up in the car to wave to the people. He has no fucking idea what he’s talking about, the idiot.

  I sit back in my seat, resolving to get back at him. Anger beats against my chest as I watch his foolish, smiling face that beams at the crowd. Then I look at his waist, which is completely unguarded.

  I smile to myself as I sit forward and lay my hand on Liam’s thigh. His muscles tense as I massage his leg, and then my other hand joins. I grab both of his legs, working my fingers through the knots in them. I work them over to his belt buckle and slowly pull the strap. Poor Liam is helpless to stop me. I tug the belt from his pants, looping it in my hands as I debate whether to spank him with it. No, too far. But I graze it along his legs, making him twitch violently.

  Laughing to myself, I throw it aside and unzip his pants. He’s already half-hard, the tight black briefs straining with his cock. I touch him, desire thrumming between my legs as I take all of him in my hands and squeeze.