It’s then that I realize why my pants aren’t even off yet. I have been holding back. Even though Maggie was the one to make the first move, after what I witnessed last night, a part of me couldn’t stomach the thought of going further than she wanted; of taking more than she was ready to give me. But I can see now that my concern isn’t needed.
Without a word, I stand and shed my pants and boxer briefs, letting her take in the sight of my heavy cock that’s harder than it’s ever been. Then I pick her up, cradling her to my chest, and walk us into the jacuzzi. Sinking into the hot, frothing water, I sit on a bench and arrange her to face me, straddling my lap.
Maggie takes my face in her delicate hands and crushes her mouth to mine, melding our tongues in a dizzying dance that I quickly take the lead on. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I lift her up enough to notch the fat head of my dick at her entrance. “You want this cock, Marguerite?”
“So badly, yes.”
“It’s yours, pet. Take it like you fucking own it.”
She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t go slow. She drops her hips and impales herself on my cock like she’s been waiting years for it, not hours. Then she does exactly what I said and takes it like she owns it. Her pussy is impossibly tight from all the orgasms, and the magnitude of sensations that come with every plunge and withdrawal are fucking mind-scrambling.
Soon the water is sloshing too violently, and I don’t want to slow down, I want to speed up. Holding her to me, I stand and turn, placing her ass on the cushioned area that surrounds the tub. There’s no talking, no breaks in movement. Just a new position that gives me a new angle to hit deeper inside her slippery cunt as I drive my hips faster and faster.
Her tits bounce with every thrust, her kiss-swollen lips parted to allow for her panting breaths, and her heavy-lidded eyes reflect my intense pleasure back at me. My teeth trap my lower lip and bite hard as I put all my focus on pushing us toward that final edge together. I grip her hips hard enough for my fingertips to leave bruises in her fair skin and lean over to press my forehead to hers. Sweat drips from the ends of my hair onto her cheeks, her lips. Fire licks down my spine and swirls in my balls as they draw in tight, preparing to explode.
“Oh God oh God oh God,” she chants, her golden eyes rolling up as her cunt starts to pulse on my cock, squeezing the life out of it with her intense orgasm.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Good girl. Milk my fucking cock, pull my come from me.” Three more thrusts and my orgasm rips through my dick like a rocket, spurting rope after rope of thick come in her hungry pussy.
Breathing like I just ran five straight marathons, I manage to muster up enough strength to gather her to me and sink back into the water with her cradled in my lap. Cupping the hot water in my hands, I take care in rinsing off all the sticky juices our dessert left behind, then we settle back and just enjoy the warm breeze and the clear night sky above us.
I’m not sure how long we sat there before I realized she’d fallen asleep in my arms, her breathing deep and even with the occasional little snuffle-snore. She was so passed out, she never even woke up when I wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to my room where I tucked her into bed. It wasn’t until I climbed in after her that she cracked her eyes open and gave me an adorable sleepy grin.
“You carried me all that way? I could’ve wa—” Her sentiment is interrupted by a yawn.
“Clearly,” I say with a chuckle.
“Fortunate for you, I’ve got a new fondness for seeing to your needs, both in and out of bed.”
“You do?” I hum my affirmation and hold her a little tighter. Maggie sighs contentedly and quips sleepily, “I suppose I’m amenable to that.”
“Happy to hear it, love.”
She tucks her face into my neck as she twines her leg between mine. Being with her like this—in my bed and in my arms—settles something inside of me. Like a key fitting into its lock for the first time.
Placing a kiss on the top of her head, I make plans to have a serious talk with my chauffeur tomorrow about my intentions for his youngest daughter and a possible future for us together. Although, I think to myself, I should probably ask if she’s amenable to that as well, first.
“Actually, I was hoping you also might consider being my permanent plus-one. Of course, dating the crown prince of Danataria does come with its fair share of challenges—namely because he’s forgotten what it means to have a social life and will likely need harsh guidance in that area—but if I promise to make it worth the effort, would you be interested?”
She raises her head off my shoulder to stare at me, her golden-brown eyes sparking to life. “I would like that very, very much, your highness.”
“Then get some rest, pet.” A wicked grin slides onto my face. “If you liked what I did with our dessert, wait till you see what I can do with breakfast.”
EPILOGUE
Maggie
One year later…
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Preston says to our small group aboard the Prince At-Sea, “we’ve almost reached our destination for the weekend, which means it’s time for the champagne and congratulatory toast.”
My father pops up from the table. “I’ll get the champagne, your highness.”
Preston grabs his arm and pulls him back down. “Art, you retired last month, remember? Your only job now is to relax. Maybe try Googling the definition, because you don’t seem to understand what it means.”
Dad starts to grumble, unused to not making himself useful, but my mum is there to distract him with a kiss on his cheek and a few whispered words that I don’t want to know about considering the way he perks up after.
As the champagne is poured into our glasses by one of the stewards—a duty that was mine last summer—I take in this special moment and give thanks I’m surrounded by such amazing people who care about me. Other than my parents and Preston, there are only two others I asked Preston to invite to this small celebration for my graduation from university.
Prince Izak and Princess Daria are seated on the side of the table opposite my parents. They make such a striking couple and their immense love for one another can be hard to look away from, which is why they’re the new media darlings of both Melvania and Danataria. Their televised wedding had the highest ratings in the history of either country. It was quite surreal being in attendance, not to mention right up front with the best man winking at me every five minutes.
The four of us have grown quite close and even went on a couples’ vacation together this past winter to Bali. To say it was extremely romantic being in such a magically beautiful place with the man I love is an enormous understatement, and it was also the most fun I’ve ever had, thanks to Daria. If there’s one thing that girl knows how to do, it’s party. And mix the most mind-numbingly delicious piña coladas.
Once the staff is gone again, Preston pushes to his feet. “Everyone, raise your glasses so we can toast to the woman of the hour,” he says, gazing at me from his place at the head of the table. His words are innocuous enough, but his eyes are whispering not-so-innocent things to me across the distance. Things that make my cheeks blush.
I arch a brow in warning. “Do try to behave, your highness. My parents are present.”
The devil prince winks and offers a dazzling smile. “You know me,” he says, “I’m always well-behaved, Marguerite.”
Dear God, the man is as wicked as they come. He knows what it does to me when he uses my full name. It’s like a starting gun for the butterflies to take flight in my belly and the heat to pool between my thighs.
Izak snorts. “If anyone believes that, I have some ocean-front property in Geneva to sell them.”
My mother frowns. “But there is no ocean-front property in Geneva.”
“That’s the point, Mum,” I say with an affectionate roll of my eyes.
We have a quick laugh before Preston wrangles our attention once more. “We’re here tonight to celebrate the culmination of years of hard work, resulti
ng in a Master of Arts degree by our very own Maggie Hammond.”
The table erupts with hoots and shouted praises, making pride swell in my chest. It had been a lot of hard work—especially this last year as I had to learn how to balance my studies with my very new, and very public, relationship—and I’m relieved to have finished at the top of my class. Now I can start the next chapter of my life. The one called “finding a job in the real world.”
It makes me laugh to myself, thinking of Preston’s family tradition to send their kids off for a Real-World test. For most people, including myself, it’s just called normal life. But when you’re born a royal, I suppose nothing about your life can be described as normal. I’ve gotten just a taste of it while dating Preston, and even experiencing it indirectly can be overwhelming at times. It’s no wonder Preston and Izak have made it a point to carve out careers for themselves other than simply being part of the monarchy.
“Maggie, I couldn’t be prouder of you,” Preston says with warmth in his eyes. “Watching you continue to get excellent marks during your most difficult year, all while ensuring I didn’t overwork myself or neglect what time we could carve out for each other, taught me what a true work-life balance is. You’re the most dedicated, tenacious woman I know. You inspired me to love and appreciate art, and I know that you’ll do the same for countless others in the future.”
“If I ever find a job,” I add with a self-deprecating smile.
My mother pats my hand and Dad shakes an arthritic finger at me. “Don’t you go doubting yourself, Magpie, any gallery would be lucky to have you. One of them will snatch you up soon, just you watch.”
Daria raises her glass and shouts, “Here, here!” then downs the entire contents.
“You’re supposed to wait until the end of the toast to drink, Duchess,” Izak says wryly, still using her old title as an endearment that’s too cute for words.
Grabbing the bottle, Daria pours herself another glass. “I know how toasts work, bodyguard. But your brother has been rambling on forever, and I’m thirsty.”
Izak eyes his brother. “She has a point. You’d better wrap it up because it’s time to give her your gift.”
Preston looks over to see that we’re pulling into port. I recognize it as the same one in Italy where we spent our very first day together. “Ah, so it is.” Turning back to the group, he raises his glass higher. “To Maggie!”
“To Maggie!” is shouted in chorus, followed by everyone taking a sip—or if you’re Daria, a whole flute—of champagne and getting to our feet as the Prince At-Sea slowly eases her enormously sleek body next to a long pier. I head straight for Preston’s arms and smile up at him.
“Thank you, Preston. A trip to the city where we first got together a year ago is the perfect gift.”
Taking my hand in his, he leads me across the dining lounge and through the glass doors to the outer deck. “I’m glad you think so, pet,” he says with a wide, boyish grin. “Because if you think the destination is perfect, wait till you see what we’re sailing home in.”
When we reach the others on the starboard side of the Prince, Preston stands behind me with his hands resting on my shoulders. When I realize everyone’s focus is fixed on something in particular, I follow their line of sight. My gaze lands on a ship docked across the pier, and my lips part in awe. I didn’t think it was possible, but she’s even bigger than the Prince. And even to my untrained eye, I can tell she’s a sparkling, brand-spanking-new vessel.
Surprised, I turn around to look up at Preston. “You bought a new superyacht?”
“No, pet, I bought you a megayacht.” Now my jaw completely unhinges, and my eyes bug out of my head, making him chuckle. “Happy graduation, Maggie.”
Still stunned, I turn to face the—my—ship again, and that’s when I notice the name scrawled in fancy script on the side. Princess At-Sea. “Her name is a clever play on this one, but it should be ‘Jobless Art Curator At-Sea’. At least that would be accurate.”
The odd laugh that escapes me sounds a bit mad even to me, but I’m having a hard time processing my life right now, so I’m going to need a minute or ten to get myself together, please and thank you.
“I’m hoping the name I gave her will be accurate,” Preston says behind me.
Confused, I turn back around…except now I have to look down instead of up.
“Oh dear God,” I say on an exhale. Preston is on one knee, holding up a square box, and I can feel every pair of eyes on me with the buzz of energy coming off them in excited waves.
“Maggie, in the year we’ve been together, you’ve had to deal with a lot of overwhelming things. You’ve experienced some of the good parts about being in the public eye and quite a bit more of the unsavory kind. But no matter what was thrown at you, good or bad, you always handled every situation with grace and an endless sense of wonder I’ll never grow tired of watching.”
I clasp my hands to keep them from shaking, but I can’t stop the tears from streaming like waterfalls down my cheeks. Sniffles off to my right alert me to my mum crying, too, which only serves to make it difficult to swallow around the knot of emotions in my throat.
“It’s not an exaggeration to say that I didn’t have a life before I met you,” Preston continues, our love reflecting back at me in his eyes. “And it’s not hyperbole to say I have no wish to live without you ever again. You are my life. You are my heart and my soul. All that’s left for you to be is my wife…my princess. Will you marry me, Marguerite?”
“Yes!” I snatch the still unopened ring box from him—not that I care what the ring looks like, but there’s no sense in risking him changing his mind—and launch myself at him as he rises to his full height.
As he spins me around in his arms, the sounds of our loved ones cheering, crying, or calling for more champagne (I’ll give you one guess who that is) are music to my ears. Preston sets me back on my feet and takes my mouth in a heated kiss I can feel all the way down to my toes. I’m vaguely aware of the others congratulating us and mumbling excuses of other places they need to be, but all I’m interested in right now is the god of a man kissing me senseless.
When I finally break away to catch my breath, I awkwardly notice we have an audience of one. Preston and I stare at his sister-in-law who’s watching us while grinning like a loon. “Is there something we can do for you, Daria?” he asks, arching a brow.
Suddenly, she blurts out, “Can I plan your stag weekend? Here’s what I’m thinking—”
“No, Duchess.” Izak appears out of nowhere and tosses Daria over his shoulder. “Brother, sister-to-be,” he says with a nod at both of us, “have a great rest of your evening. I have a brat to punish.” Then he strides away with his wife challenging him further, listing all the reasons she’d plan a better party than him.
“She must really like her punishments,” I muse aloud.
“You can ask the Duchess of Debauchery about it tomorrow. Now, are you ready, fiancée?” Preston says, making those butterflies in my belly frenzied.
“Ready for what, husband-to-be?”
He growls low in his chest and pulls me against his hard body that’s growing even harder. “To board your gift. We have to take care of something important before she can sail in a few days.”
“And what’s that?”
“Every seaworthy vessel must be christened; for good luck and safe travels. We’d be tempting the fates if we break tradition.”
“Oh! You mean crashing the champagne against her side. That’s fantastic! I’ll grab a bottle then—”
He catches me around the waist before I get anywhere. “We’ll do that with the others properly in a few days. I’m referring to a different kind of christening.”
Then I feel one of his hands slide up the front of my skirt, his blunt fingertips probing the spot between my legs that’s already hot and wet with anticipation. I mewl in the back of my throat and rock my pelvis forward to invite his touch deeper.
“Preston,” I rasp
, a desperate plea for more.
“I’m going to carry you aboard that ship, Marguerite. Then I’m going to strip you naked and thoroughly fuck you in every common area of every deck. And finally, I’ll show you to your royal cabin and take you in the lavish bed I had made for you. A bed fit for a princess and her prince. How does that sound?”
For the normal person, it would probably be exhausting, but Preston isn’t normal; he’s a royal. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned to appreciate and admire about the crown prince of Danataria, it’s his stamina. His ability to work long hours without tiring.
Staring up at the man I love, I give him a coy half-smile. “It sounds like you have a lot of work ahead of you tonight.”
Desire-drenched eyes make carnal promises and silent claims, branding me as his, as he says, “No. It’ll be my pleasure, your highness. Tonight and every night, now and ever after.”
* * *
Thank you for reading CHARMING THE PRINCE!
If you haven’t already read the spicy story of how Daria and Izak got together, don’t miss KIDNAPPING THE DUCHESS.
The media dubbed her the Duchess of Debauchery, the wild child of the royal family who parties her way through her inheritance and half the kingdom’s bachelors. When her bodyguard learns of her kinky desires, he risks his job – and secret identity – to make her wildest fantasies come true.
Grab your copy of KIDNAPPING THE DUCHESS here!
In the mood for a full-length steamy contemporary romance? Check out the newly revamped and re-released edition of SEDUCING CINDERELLA, the story that captivated readers and soared up the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists.
MMA champ, Reid Andrews, agrees to teach his best friend’s little sister the art of seduction so she can land the man of her dreams. But when his feelings change, Reid finds himself in the fight of his life, and it’s not the one in the octagon. Now he needs to switch up his game plan if he wants to win Lucie’s heart…before she gives it to somebody else.
Charming the Prince: A Mistaken Identity and Forbidden Love Romance, Racy Royals #2 Page 4
