Keeping Her

by Holly Hart

  “You certainly do have a family sword,” I purr, reaching in through the fly and pulling his member free. I have a much better view of it this time: long and thick, veins visible under the gleaming skin. It bobs at my touch.

  “And it’s all yours,” he breathes.

  Our eyes meet as I begin to stroke all the way up to the head, then all the way down to the base. I can almost fit both my hands along the length of his shaft.

  Even without touching myself, my panties are already damp.

  Dante reaches down between groans and slides my sundress off my shoulders. I let go of him for a moment to wiggle out of the straps, allowing my tits to pop free. He looks at them lovingly.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he sighs as I return to his cock.

  It’s all so new, but I want to try everything. Each time I touch him, it sparks a wave of pleasure in me. It’s like I’ve been on a diet all my life and suddenly I’m standing in front of an all-you-can eat buffet.

  Without thinking, I lean down and kiss the thick tip. His groan makes my clit tingle, and I squeeze my thighs together to get the most of the feeling.

  My mouth slides down over the head as my tongue explores the underside of his cock. The salty taste from the sweat of the day makes me want to take even more in my mouth. With each swirl of my tongue, I can feel Dante throb in my mouth.

  My first ever blow job, and it’s on the most eligible bachelor in the world. And in a few days, he’s going to be my husband. The excitement almost makes me come just on its own.

  He leans forward and pulls me upwards so that our eyes meet.

  “Soon,” he says. “But not too soon.”

  With that, he reaches behind me and unzips my dress. I stand up, letting in fall to the floor. His hands are on my panties immediately, pulling them off with no finesse whatsoever.

  And that’s fine with me.

  He stands and slips off his shorts so that the two of us are finally completely naked with each other.

  His eyes roam over my body as he strokes my arms. I’ve never been so self-conscious. I mean, his last girlfriend was a supermodel. I’m just a cowgirl.

  “Am I all right?” I whisper, shocked at how eager I am for his approval.

  He smiles softly. “You’re more than all right,” he says. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

  He pulls me to him. Our mouths meet as the skin of his cock presses against my mound. His hands gently squeeze my breasts, sending shockwaves of pleasure all down my body. Finally his tongue leaves mine and finds my nipples.

  My moans spur him on to more action. He slides his cock back towards my clit, obviously remembering what it did to me in the gardens. But now the urgency is so strong I can’t hold off for more than a few seconds. I grip his shoulders as my hips buck against the pressure of his cock, my orgasm hitting me like a jackhammer.

  I lose myself in the moment, allowing the strength of his arms to carry me through the waves, trusting him to hold onto me and never let go. I plant my face on the nape of his neck, trying to slow my breathing as the wave subsides.

  “You’ve done that to me twice,” I pant. “I want to do it to you.”

  His eyes light up as I say it. His eagerness turns me on even more, if that’s possible.

  “I have an idea,” he says. “We can both do it to each other.”

  He hasn’t forgotten the one road we can’t go down, has he? Then he lies down on the sofa and grabs me by the hips, and I realize what he’s doing.

  I follow his lead, straddling him as I prop myself on my elbows in front of his cock. Having him so close to my opening makes me suddenly nervous – and insanely excited.

  “I’m sorry I’m so wet,” I say. “You’re just so good at this…”

  “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” he growls, grabbing my ass with his hands and pulling my mound down to his mouth. I practically explode from the heat when his lips touch me down there.

  I never imagined anything could feel so good, so right.

  My legs quiver as he works his tongue in and out of my slit, back to front, up and down. As he does, I draw his hard shaft into my mouth again, going down as far as I can. I take care of the rest of him with my hand, gripping the base of his cock and pumping it slowly.

  Dante pulls his mouth off my pussy long enough to gasp. My body is already begging for his touch again, and he doesn’t leave me wanting for long. He comes back with a vengeance, pressing his tongue hard against my clit as his thumbs open me ever wider.

  Is it like this for everyone? I thought I knew my way around my own pussy, but Dante is showing me a whole new world. My God, why did I wait so long? I never knew what I was missing.

  As I feel my second orgasm building, I grab hold of his cock for dear life. I want so much to make him feel the same way he makes me feel.

  “Amanda,” he groans. “God, that feels sooo good…”

  I take it even deeper in my mouth, until I can’t possibly take any more. He responds by sucking my clit into his mouth, and the ecstasy almost makes me fall off the couch. I have to leave his cock behind for a second as I catch my breath, but I return to it as quickly as I can.

  Dante’s hips start to move up and down, slowly, in time with my strokes. At the same time, I start to press downwards with my own hips in a rhythm that builds as the pressure of his tongue increases. The urgency increases until we’re both hammering home into the other’s mouth, building the waves until they finally come crashing against the shore.

  I pull my mouth off his cock at the moment of my orgasm, gasping for air. As I do, I hear him groan loudly, inspiring me to pump him as hard and as fast as I can.

  “Oh, God, Dante,” I pant. “Dante…”

  With one final buck of his hips and a groan that sounds more like an animal’s grunt, he explodes into climax, his shaft throbbing like a heart in my hand.

  I collapse on top of him like a rag doll, but he still has enough strength to lift me and position me so that we’re facing each other. His perfect chest hitches and jumps as he catches his breath.

  “That was… incredible,” he huffs.

  “Was it really?” I ask. The need in my own voice is startling.

  “Really incredible.”

  I stroke his chest as it rises and falls, kissing his nipples. He runs one hand through my hair as the other strokes my breasts.

  A squawk of static comes over the radio, making me jump.

  “Your Highness, Ms. Sparks,” says the pilot, Antonio. “We’re about to begin our descent into Morova. Please buckle in for the remainder of the flight.”

  “I think I needed to be buckled in a while ago,” I say, pulling my panties back up onto my hips. Dante helps me with my sundress. The feeling of him seeing my naked body even after the deed is done makes this seem even more intimate.

  He gets dressed quickly, like all guys do. A quick cleanup later and it’s like nothing ever happened. Which is good, because Marco chooses that moment to walk into the cabin. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if he’d gotten bored of his conversation with the pilots a few minutes earlier.

  “Everything good in here, sir?” he says.

  “Absolutely fantastic,” Dante says, glancing at me. “Couldn’t be better.”

  Actually, it will be better. Just wait until Amandante’s wedding night.

  Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Eight

  23. INTERLUDE

  “Emilio!”

  Shit, he thinks, dropping his spoon. I didn’t even get to take a sip of my coffee first.

  Isabella sweeps into the parlor of his palace quarters with an iPad in one hand and a headful of steam. Her hair is standing up at odd angles, and the lines on her face are more pronounced without her usual makeup. She looks like she ran here straight out of bed, which doesn’t surprise him.

  “Mother,” he says blandly. “Let me guess: you’ve been online.”

  She ignores the gibe and drops her tablet onto the table. It’s open to t
he front page of the TMZ website.

  “What. The hell. Is this?” she snarls.

  “That appears to be a fourth generation iPad, Mother,” he says, blowing across the rim of his antique china cup. “Gold in color.”

  “Don’t be smart with me,” she snaps. “Dante got engaged to the American woman last night!”

  “So it would seem.”

  “Why is he not scouring convents?”

  “Because he’s not an idiot, Mother,” Emilio sighs. “I came up with that on the spur of the moment. Do you think I was expecting him to tell me he’d found the decree in the sword?”

  She paces the room, her long dressing gown flowing behind her. Morning sun streams in through the crosshatched windows, though there’s no lake view beyond. The Steiger side of the family is relegated to the shoreline view, which needles Isabella to no end.

  “How is this possible?” she asks. “Could the woman actually be a virgin?”

  “I assume you’ll find out,” says Emilio. “If so, it would seem your plan has gone tits up, as the Americans say.”

  She stops pacing and glares at him.

  “This isn’t for me,” she says. “It’s for you. With Dante out of the way, you’re the obvious choice to take over the monarchy.”

  “So you’ve said, many, many times since I was a boy.”

  “I didn’t go through stealing the decree and hiding it just to have things blow up in our faces at the last minute!”

  Emilio slams a hand on the tabletop hard enough to spill his coffee.

  “What is wrong with you?” he barks. “It was a stupid idea and it didn’t work. That’s the end of it. Just be glad Dante never found out about it. I shudder to think what he’d do to us if he knew.”

  She ignores his outburst, instead scanning the screen of her tablet.

  “It’s not the end,” she says. “All we have to do to trigger the referendum is prove that the marriage is a sham. They couldn’t possibly have fallen in love in two weeks.”

  Emilio rolls his eyes. “And how, exactly, do you plan to prove that two people aren’t in love?”

  Isabella smiles and turns the tablet screen towards him.

  “Look at this,” she says with a smile. “There are plenty of Morovans who are saying this is too quick, that Dante shouldn’t be marrying an American commoner. They already have a low opinion of him. I know we can exploit this.”

  “You do realize that Dante is my best friend?”

  “There are no true friends in royal courts, dear.”

  “Then do whatever you feel you need to,” he says. “But leave me out of this.”

  Isabella stands and snaps the tablet’s case shut.

  “As much as you think you’re apart from all this, you’re not,” she says. “I’m afraid that your future relies on this plan just as much as mine does.”

  Emilio stops mid-sip, leveling his eyes across the rim of the cup at his mother.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’d best pour yourself something stronger than coffee,” she says. “You’re about to learn some very unpleasant things.”

  Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Nine

  24. DANTE

  “I have good news and I have bad news,” Maria says, pointing at the ninety-inch screen on the wall of her office.

  Amanda and I sip coffee as we look over the Internet tabs open to various social media feeds, videos and news sites, all either showing or talking about what we did last night. Except for the flight back home, of course – that would have to be on a different kind of website.

  I see Amanda biting her lower lip. I’ve been dealing with this kind of nonsense for so long that sometimes I forget it’s all new to her.

  “What’s the bad news?” she asks.

  “I’d rather start with the good news,” says Maria. “Amandante is trending like mad. It’s the top hashtag on Twitter and Facebook, and Renaldo’s sources inside TMZ tell him they’ve cleared the decks for non-stop coverage for the next two days.

  Amanda’s lip biting intensifies. “That means they’ll definitely be calling my dad. I better text him and tell him not to show anyone his shotgun collection.”

  That gives me an idea.

  “Why don’t we bring him here now instead of waiting until the wedding?” I ask. “It would take him out of that environment, and it would give him an opportunity to get to know me and the twins.”

  Her eyes brighten, making my heart smile.

  “Could we? He said he could get a neighbor to look after the cattle for a while, but I’m not sure if he can do it on such short notice.”

  “One phone call and we can have a crew of people there within a day,” I say, looking at Maria. “Right?”

  Maria looks a bit confused, but nods. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Amanda say with a wide smile. “I haven’t seen him since last fall. And I can’t wait to show him around Morova! The only foreign country he’s ever been to is Canada.”

  “Excellent,” I say. “I’ll dispatch the Falcon to pick him up as soon as he can be ready. He should be here within two days. And I’ll make sure it’s stocked with Budweiser.”

  Amanda’s eyes are as wide as her grin now.

  “Is this really happening?” she asks. “My dad’s never flown before, and his first time will be in a private luxury jet?”

  “It’s really happening,” I chuckle. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

  “Oh my God, he’s going to shit a brick when I tell him!”

  Maria’s expression is enough to set me off laughing. I’m getting more familiar with American sayings, but she hasn’t had as much time around Amanda as I have.

  “Now that we have that sorted,” Maria says, “we can move on. Amanda, your altercation with Giselle Ranette is what’s getting the most buzz. Millions of women are showing support for you.”

  She clicks a button on a device in her hand and a particular tab quickly fills the screen. It shows a tweet from a young woman who calls herself @MuricanGurl95: Way to go, Amanda! Don’t take shit from haters! BTW, Dante is smoking hot! #Amandante

  “There are hundreds of thousands more,” Maria says. “The daily news cycle has also had pundits on to analyze the incident to death.”

  Another click and a video fills the screen. The dark-haired lady anchor from MSNBC is speaking.

  “One thing’s for sure: Prince Dante’s fiancée is not your typical royal bride-to-be,” she says. “Amanda Sparks may have come out of nowhere, but she’s made her debut in a big way. Is the world ready for a rowdy royal with a right cross? Judging by the reaction online, I’d say the answer is yes.”

  Amanda’s cheeks flush. “It feels like they’re talking about someone else,” she says.

  “You get used to it,” I say, placing a hand on hers.

  Maria clicks off the screen and calls up another. This one is a close-up of Chancellor Francesco Huber’s jowly old face.

  “As I said before, the news isn’t all good,” she says. “Reaction here in Morova is a bit different than the rest of the world.”

  She starts the video that shows Huber standing in front of the Crown Council Building with a microphone in his face.

  “Obviously the government doesn’t condone violence of any sort,” he grumbles. “But we shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that the prince is marrying someone with no royal background – on a whim, mind you, let’s not forget there was no warning of this. And this incident is just one of many examples of the prince’s poor judgment.”

  “Do you think it reflects poorly on the nation?” asks the reporter.

  “Of course I do,” Huber says, scowling. “We are a highly sophisticated nation, with a world-renowned reputation for dignity and earnest behavior. This issue does not end here, I can tell you that.”

  The screen goes blank just as Amanda mutters: “Way to get yourself uninvited from the wedding, asshole.”

  She turns to see t
he expressions on our faces and blushes again.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  I grin and shake my head. “We were all thinking it, Amanda. You just had the courage to say it.”

  “Agreed,” says Maria. “Unfortunately, Huber will be at the wedding, and he’ll use it as a soapbox to push his anti-monarchy agenda. We need to be prepared for that.”

  I turn to Amanda. “Does your father have a saying for situations like this?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Screw him and the horse he rode in on.”

  Maria and I sit in stunned silence for a moment before cracking up. Amanda joins in and the three of us laugh loud and hard for a long while.

  When we’ve calmed down, Maria resumes.

  “Huber is only one of our problems,” she says. “You know Isabella will not be pleased with you marrying a commoner.” She turns to Amanda. “I’m sorry, dear, you know that the word has a different meaning for us.”

  “Whatever, bitch,” Amanda says with a mock scowl, throwing up a dismissive hand.

  And we’re all off giggling again. God, I think I’ve laughed more in the last week with Amanda than I did in the last year.

  “Amanda, please,” Maria begs, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “This really is serious business.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  “I think you should tell Isabella about the proposal as soon as you leave here. She’s probably already angry that she didn’t know about it beforehand, so you’ll need to convince her it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

  I nod. Maria’s right about Isabella’s temperament – even though she herself isn’t a royal, she definitely acts like one. My mother’s family were simple barons, the bottom of the nobility. If Isabella hadn’t married into the Steiger family’s money, she would essentially be a drain on the Trentini fortune.

  “If Isabella’s husband were still alive, he would have loved you,” I say to Amanda. “Uncle Hans was a lovely man. He was the one with the money, but he never acted like it. Isabella married into money, and the only reason she has a title is because her sister married into royalty. Yet to hear her talk, you’d think she was the monarch of Morova.”