by Mia Madison
Lucien won’t allow me any control after my little stunt in the dining room.
And my body is shaking too much from what he’s doing to my clit to be able to move with any purpose. I’m twisting my head this way and that, trying to gasp at breath. He cups the underside of my thigh and drags it up so my foot lifts and hooks on the edge of the table.
I’m spread wide open and when he glances down to gaze on my glistening folds, pulsating and pink, he growls out a raw noise. He yanks his zipper roughly down and pulls out his full length. I get only a brief glimpse before he locates his bulging round head into my hollow opening and both make me gasp loudly.
“Oh my god,” I murmur.
That thing is so perfectly formed. So huge and so beautiful, I want it in my hands and in my mouth and most of all I want it sliding all the way into me.
“Come.” I moan. “Inside.”
I don’t have to wait another second. Lucien’s force pushes through the small band of resistance and with another sound of rawness, he thrusts smoothly along the full length of my tight pussy.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps.
My thoughts exactly.
I know I’m making crazy mewling sounds and thrashing around but I can’t stop and I don’t care.
I can’t think really. I can’t speak.
All I can do is emit those weird noises as his wide girth presses my walls back and forces me to take him in. Nothing in my life has ever felt so incredible. He’s so big and so hard it makes me shudder deep to my core.
When he pulls all the way out to the tip, the emptiness is a terrible vacancy. But it only lasts a second before the pleasure rides all the way up me again as he thrusts into me and buries himself to the root. We’re both clawing at each other still, mouths clamping on to whatever part of the other we can connect to. We both need to touch and kiss and bite and pinch everywhere at once as he thrusts harder and faster.
Panting. Gasping.
The pleasure pulls all the way back through me like the tide dragging on pebbles and then it crashes through me. A huge wave slamming back down, it wave floods to my edges and I can’t stop shuddering and moaning and clawing at his solid mass of dinner-jacketed shoulders.
Lucien shoves into me with a final deep jerk and holds himself buried further than seems possible as he fills me up. He empties into me with a deep groan. His arms wrap around my back, holding me tight to his broad chest, crushing my breasts to his pecs as he rasps out harsh breaths of release.
Chapter SIXTEEN
Lucien
I hold Kennedy in my arms, wrapping her so tight my arms fold over onto themselves. I keep her pinned to me as we each fight with our lungs to recover our breathing. I can feel her heart pounding onto mine, every inch of her chest lodged against mine and I don’t want to ever move.
She fits there like we were molded as one. I’m still rock hard inside her. Her tunnel wall is clenching around me almost as tight as I’m holding her to my chest. I want to keep her against me forever.
Some noises permeate from outside the servery. There’s a small army of footmen back there but they’re obviously doing everything with kid gloves, because all the usual clattering of dinner service is dampened. They know I’m in here. The servants don’t miss an iota of minute detail in this house. They know everything.
They’ll have plenty to gossip on tonight. The prince fucking his princess in the pantry. Christ, if one of them sold that to the papers they’d make a fortune and I’d be sent to Saigon, or some equally distant nowhere. And I could be happy with that if I could persuade Kennedy to come with me.
What the fuck am I saying? Christ, what did we do?
I pull back from her in shock, releasing the glue between our chests but not from our hips. I find her face and she gazes up at me dreamy, happy, satiated. Her sweet hot pussy is still twitching around me so I know she’s enjoying small afterglows of climax. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes look at me with that adoring gaze I saw earlier this evening. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Baby,” I burr before I even know it’s left my lips.
I kiss each of her beautiful hard pink nipples before putting them back securely in the gown.
When I pull slightly out of her, she clenches me back inside, not letting me go.
“I want to do it again,” she mewls.
I laugh softly and lift a tendril of hair from her cheek to put it back in place.
“Greedy girl.”
“I chowed through six courses and I’m starving.”
“Princesses don’t say chowed,” I tell her with a smile.
“Well, I do. And I’m missing dessert for you.”
I laugh again. She’s so unlike any woman I’ve ever met. Those ridiculous types that pretend they never eat. She’s so blatant about what she wants and yet so feminine and fragile as well.
What happened?
I lost all the control I swore I wouldn’t lose with her. She’s so damn intoxicating I can’t maintain my resolve when I’m around her. I let go of everything to laugh and joke and fuck like a demon.
I’m finally soft enough to slip out of her without her clinging on.
I lift her gently down from the table and set her on her heels. She reaches up to stroke my cheek.
When I crouch down before her, she gasps and her hands cup around my head, threading my hair. I put her underwear, ripped through I note, back in place. But not before I kiss her pink swollen pussy and lick up her wetness making her dig her fingers into my skull as she shudders.
“Will you run away to Saigon with me?” I ask.
“Are we banished now?”
I knew she’d get it.
This girl is amazing in every way.
I take her hand in mine and lead her back into the dining room where a hundred faces all turn inquiringly in our direction.
“Everything okay?” the Ambassador's wife asks.
“Small wardrobe malfunction,” I inform her. “Everything’s perfect now.”
They’ve reached the dessert course, the pastry chef’s special – a torte I see Kenn eyeing greedily.
As soon as I settle her back in her seat, a footman glides in behind to serve us. I throw her a glance as she grabs the incorrect spoon to ‘chow’ down. She laughs lightly and I realize she was teasing me again. She daintily lifts the correct one to slice into the chocolate confection without smashing it.
We linger with coffee and liqueurs then it’s time for an official photograph for the media before we go into the ballroom. She looks up at the gold ceiling, the moldings, the friezes on every wall. Her eyes widen then she regains her poise and acts like she’s walking into a Denny's and this is her natural habitat.
That’s my girl.
Cooper appears immediately in front of us.
“Can I have a dance with my daughter,” he asks, her, not me.
I grip her hand a little tighter, wanting to tell him no. She looks up at me for permission and I can’t refuse. Plus I see my father twitching in my direction.
“Just one,” I tell her. “Then I have to present you to the King.”
Her eyes pop wide and she looks nervous before her father leads her to the dance floor. I don't like it at all but I don’t have a choice. I greet the various people coming for an audience with me, never once taking my eyes off her. If he’s telling her I’m not good enough, which is true, but still, I’ll wring my old buddy’s neck.
I don’t want anything stopping me now. Every time she twirls around toward me, her eyes search me out and she flashes me a little smile that makes my heart sear.
What the fuck is that? I’ve never experienced pain in my chest like that. For a second I think I was having a heart attack and then a realization dawns on me.
No.
I don’t do love.
I don’t do romance except to get a woman into my arms.
And she’s been there now.
My old Pal Coop is getting serious
with his daughter now, telling her something I don’t like the look of. She still smiles at me as she comes around though. He looks as though he doesn't intend to give her up when the song ends but she takes the lead and slips away from him to come back to my side. I want to ask her what her father was telling her so forcefully but my own is tossing daggers. It’ll have to wait.
“Come meet my daddy.” I grin down at her so her nervousness doesn’t take hold.
As I lead her across the huge room, a path opens up before us as people step back and turn to watch us. She stiffens in my arms and leans into me a little more but manages to hold herself erect so perfectly I’m as proud of her as if she were my -.
No!
A hush falls and the entire room watches as I introduce Kennedy Sommers of Chicago, Illinois to His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince, King Lucien Leopold the Third.
It crosses my mind that she’ll forgo convention again, but she slides one foot behind her ankle and sinks into a low curtsy almost to the floor. My fathers stern grimace softens as he looks down on her. I was expecting a battle with him but he’s caved as fast as I did to her sweetness. She’s too divine to say no to, even for a king. Or a prince.
“Rise, my dear,” he commands and I stretch out a hand for her to support herself on.
She bobs smoothly up on her own, I recall how powerful her little thighs are when they’re wrapping my pelvis and tugging my cock deeper into her. She looks at me and takes my outstretched hand in both hers. My father notices the PDA with a frown that disappears when she looks back at him with her smile.
“We must have this wedding organized quickly,” he tells her.
Shit, she doesn't know about the lie I told him to keep her here.
“I’d like that very much. It’ can’t be soon enough for me, Your Highness,” she says.
“You may call me Leo,” he tips down to tell her so that only I can hear. “But only when no one is listening.”
“Thank you, Leo,” she purrs and he raises his hand for more music.
I need Kennedy in my arms pressed against my body and the dance floor is my only option. I lead her out there through the parting throng and we take up a space in the center. I scoop her into my arm and pull her chest into mine.
“What was your father saying to you?”
“Only that we have to leave and go back to the States soon.”
That bastard has my money and thinks he’ll skip out now. I hug her tighter into me like I won’t ever allow her to leave me.
“Don’t think you’re getting any sleep tonight,” I growl into her ear as I inhale the soft aroma of her.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she says.
She leans into me and it’s as though everyone in the room, all the dignitaries and their wives, the servants, both our daddies have disappeared and there’s only her and me.
Chapter SEVENTEEN
Kennedy
At last Lucien takes me up to bed.
“My feet are killing me,” I purr, leaning onto his arm as we mount the stairs.
“You can put them up soon,” he replies with a filthy twinkle in his eyes. “And you have people to massage them now.”
Oh god, like I could sit around long enough for him to rub my feet when all I want is him sliding in and out of my pussy again, I’m already pulsating with anticipation of this promised sleepless night and a repeat for the pounding he gave me in the pantry.
He laughs when I pout at him for stopping at the door to the yellow room and kissing me good night.
“Aren’t you coming in? I mewl.
He presses me gently but forcefully inside and closes the door. I cannot believe it. I’m put to bed by the servants. Which is still weird and probably always will be. Or would be. If I was staying here. I can’t believe my father said we have to leave soon.
Already a life without Luc – I pronounce it Loose not Loock, to tease him – seems impossible to imagine. Crap, how did I go against all my self-promises and let myself be taken in.
“Damn,” I bark, making the servant startle. “Sorry.”
When I’m in bed, the woman goes to the door and looks both ways down the corridor. Then she closes it, returns and pulls the covers back off me, indicating I should get up again.
What?
She head beckons me to follow her and takes me to another secret panel that she clicks open and steps inside. Oh my god, these palaces are full of secret passages and panels perfect for clandestine meetings.
Can it really be true that Luc has never had a woman in the palace before me? Somehow I believe everything he tells me. I really want to. Perhaps that’ll be my downfall.
There are lights installed in the interior passages and soon enough the serving maid pushes lightly on a door lying cracked. She indicates I should go through, then pulls it closed on her.
Before I can wonder if she’s going to hang out in that creepy tunnel, a flying beast hurls himself at me and pulls me into his embrace as though we’ve been parted for years not minutes.
He claims my mouth with his and my breasts with his firm hands then slides the long nightgown down off my shoulders so it drops to the floor. He breaks his kiss long enough to drink in my naked body. My nipples harden, my clit point bulges at my lips and then at his when he drops to his knees to suck me there.
Like a little wanton standing naked in his king size room, I lift my thigh and wrap it over his shoulder giving him more to lick and nibble. In a rage of hunger he powers up his thighs to lift me, not breaking his kiss on my pussy once. Then I’m sitting half across his broad shoulder for a moment, sitting up right on his face while he crosses the room and then throws me down on the bed.
He stands over me gazing down on my body like he can never get tired of looking at me. Which I get because I lie there, part my legs a little wider while I return the admiration toward his bare chest. It’s literally rippling with lust as he reaches into his low slung pants and releases the thing I really could stare at forever. Getting a long hard look at it, I’m stunned by it’s powerful lift as it stands up royally. That really is king-sized.
And then he leaps down and is pushing through my broken resistance and sliding along the length of me.
As promised, I didn’t get much sleep all night and I’m woken by a light but furious tapping at the door.
“What the fuck,” Lucien grits.
He lifts me out of his arm where I’ve been dozing since finally drifting off to sleep long enough not to wake up and fuck him again.
“Don’t be a bear today, Darling,” I say, stretching in the huge bed, the happiest day of my life.
“Come,” he shouts, as soon as he has his pants back on and I’ve pulled up the sheet around my nakedness.
“Where’s my coffee?” he shouts at the poor little man in round glasses that comes nervously in.
He’s wearing a suit not a livery and keeping his eyes firmly on the ground, averted from his Royal Highness’s stunning nakedness, and mine.
“This is Olivier, my equerry,” Lucien tells me.
The man gives me a glass-eyed bow.
“His Majesty ordered that you may take breakfast in his chambers, Sir.”
“Screw that. I’m dining here with my baby,” the prince waves him off.
“Immediately sir.”
The secret panel pops back right on cue and another maidservant waits to whisk me away. Immediately. But first I give Luc a kiss and stroke his back so he knows I’ll be there with him, supporting whatever’s happening.
As I slip through the door, I pray it isn't anything to do with me sleeping all night with him. Or perhaps some servant let slip about the sex in the pantry during the Royal dinner.
Once back in my room and bathed, I’m put into some clothes that seem a little formal for hanging out on the boat with Luc today.
Adrenalin is pressing through my veins too fast for me to be able to eat the breakfast that’s sitting on the tray for me. Even a coffee would turn my stomach over too much.
There’s a knock at the door and I turn expecting to see it open before I call but it isn't him.
When I call out, Daddy comes in, his face looking almost gray.
“What is it?” I hiss.
“Have you seen the newspapers this morning?”
“Not really. We didn’t get – never mind.”
Oh god, have they ripped me apart for my outfit, my hair? They’re so mean here in Europe, it’s like being internet shamed in print every morning.
“Is it bad?” I murmur.
“Yes. Kind of.”
“Oh god.”
Is Lucien going to throw me over for someone else if I’m derided in the media? I need this to go on a little longer. I’m not ready for the game to end yet after such an amazing start.
“Don’t worry, Baby, I promise you it’s all lies. Let’s just go.”
“Go where? I don’t want to go.”
“What do you mean?” Daddy barks at me for the first time in my life.
“I mean I have to stay and complete the deal I made with Lucien.”
“You mean the deal I made.”
“No, it was all me,” I inform him proudly. “I heard him belittling you, through, um, a secret door to your room. I love him but he’s not a good friend to you.”
“You love him?” My father repeats staring at me horrified, like he’s just heard me say I'm a black widow killer.
Well damn, I didn't mean to let that slip out.
“I don’t know. I think I might. Or I could.”
“You’re nearly twenty years younger than he is.”
“Oh Daddy don’t be silly. You must know that doesn't make any difference.”
His face admits defeat on that one. Then he looks so guilty my heart almost rips apart.
“Daddy, what is it?”
“What else did you hear while you were listening at the door?”
“Only that he tried to pay you for my virginity. The sexist assumed I’m untouched by male hands.”
“I may have told him that.”
“I love you for thinking I'm your innocent little girl still.”
