Royally Screwed: A British Bad Boy Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “Come on me,” Sophia whispered in my ear. “I want to feel your excitement on my skin.”

  Those perky breasts were crying out to be covered in cum; it was a miracle they’d stayed dry this long. I thrust harder and faster, bringing myself right to the edge, like I had done with Sophia.

  Just in time, I pulled out, rolled off the thin silicone covering my pulsating shaft, and then shot my load all over her perfect breasts. Shot after shot splattered onto her chest and belly, until I was completely spent.

  I collapsed back down next to Sophia and admired the Jackson Pollock painting I’d made of her body.

  “This is where you get me a towel,” Sophia said, as she lay there rigid, unable to move without my release dripping down her.

  “Nah, I think I’ll just leave you like this.”

  “If you do, I’m going to lean over and give you a nice, sticky cuddle.”

  “I’ll get a towel.”

  Sophia wiped herself clean and then we did cuddle; it was still a little sticky, but I’d never push her away. I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let go.

  But we were on a timer. At some point, we would go our separate ways again.

  Sophia squeezed me tightly as if she were thinking the exact same thing. Maybe she was.

  I returned the squeeze and kissed her firmly on the forehead, as she rested on my chest. Somehow she fell asleep, despite my heart pounding heavily against her ear.

  I stayed awake as long as possible, just watching her breathing, but eventually I closed my eyes and drifted off for a much needed post-sex nap. This time there was no need to slip out from under her and do a runner. I was right where I wanted to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sophia

  I didn’t mean to touch it.

  Even after napping yesterday afternoon, I’d still fallen asleep within minutes of closing my eyes when we’d finally stopped screwing and gone to sleep. During the night, I must have turned over and rolled away from George, so the first thing I did on waking up was turn over and rest my head on his chest.

  My hand went to his stomach, and there it was. Hard, and ready to go.

  “Morning, gorgeous,” George said, sounding like he’d had twice as much sleep as me. I could barely open my mouth to speak, and, given my morning breath, that was probably for the best.

  Was it possible to hear a twinkle in someone’s eye? I didn’t have to look up to him to picture the look on his face. The throbbing hard cock under the palm of my hand did kind of give it away.

  “How do you have any life left in this thing?” I asked, giving his cock a casual shake. “I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off after last night.”

  “It’s like a muscle—the more you train it, the stronger it becomes.”

  I tried not to think too hard about all the “coaches” who’d helped train George’s manhood over the years. I didn’t care—not really—but it wasn’t exactly an image I wanted to keep in my mind. I’d had my share of coaches after all. Not as many as George, but a decent enough number that I was no longer playing in the minor leagues.

  “Got any energy for a training session this morning?” I asked. I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked it slowly. Every pulse of the vein against my palm had me wetter and wetter between the legs, as I anticipated feeling it inside me.

  “No training,” George replied. “I’ve been training for the last ten years. You’re the main event. You’re what I’ve been training for.”

  I propped myself up on one elbow and looked at George while I kept stroking his shaft. “You’re saying you slept with all those other women for my benefit?”

  “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “You’re really lucky that I want this cock in me, or we would be having a very different discussion.”

  I quickly rolled away and looked down at the floor, littered with clothes, condom wrappers, and—fortunately—one last condom still in its wrapper. George held out his hand for the condom, but I pushed it to one side and tore open the packet myself. If men could manage it, how hard could it be?

  I pinched the tip of the condom and slowly rolled it all the way down to the base. Even sheathed, I could still feel it throbbing away in my hand, like it might explode at any second.

  George pulled me towards him, and kissed me deeply. If he cared about my morning breath, he didn’t show it. His hands squeezed my breasts firmly while I reached a hand down between his legs and guided his cock into my sex.

  Slowly, I pushed my hips down and took him inside me, my wetness immediately soaking the condom and the hair around the base of his cock.

  God, I needed that, I thought as I rocked gently on top of him. Had it really only been a few hours? My hands rested on George’s chest, my nails digging into the skin wrapped tightly around his muscular torso, while I rode myself to the edge and then quickly over it.

  Practice really did make perfect.

  * * *

  When I was in George’s arms I felt safe, secure, and happy. When he let go, I couldn’t think of anything other than the email from Stan. I stared at my computer, knowing that if I opened it up and logged into my email, I would find the blackmail attempt and the ammunition to back it up.

  Stan could destroy my life with the press of a button, but I could still cling to the hope that he wouldn’t do it once George renounced the throne. Stan was a bastard, but he’d never been vindictive. If he’d wanted to punish me for leaving him at the altar, he could have released the photos a year ago. He probably thought I still had some of him, but I’d gotten a new laptop and phone when I moved to the UK, and I’d never uploaded our sex photos to the cloud. Still, it would be a good idea to let Stan think I had some of him as well. It’s not like they would get much public attention, but they would still embarrass him. He hadn’t exactly been as naturally ‘gifted’ as George in the downstairs department.

  George strolled back into the bedroom wearing just his boxers, and climbed back into bed next to me. “They want me to do another charity event. The last one raised a record amount of money.”

  “People really are suckers for a pretty face,” I replied.

  “It’s got nothing to do with me. Everyone loves us as a couple. You make a beautiful princess.”

  A few days ago, those words would have filled me with joy, but now they terrified me. I didn’t want to be a princess any more. Being a princess meant having the world see me… intimately. I couldn’t handle that. I was barely used to being in the spotlight at all, but to date it had all been positive. That would change when the world saw the other side of me.

  I forced a smile, and let George wrap his large arms around me. I felt safe again.

  “Is everything okay?” George asked. “You’ve been a bit quiet lately.”

  “I thought I was quite loud actually. Especially when you started spanking me.”

  “You know what I mean. I can’t put my finger on it, but you’ve not been yourself recently. Are you having second thoughts about all this?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just weird to hear you say I’m a beautiful princess.”

  “You are though. You should get used to hearing it.”

  “Except I’m not going to be a princess, am I? So I don’t really need to get used to it.”

  George hugged me tighter and kissed me on the forehead. “You deserve to be a princess, and I’m going to make you one.”

  “You can’t. And that’s okay. I don’t mind any more. Being a princess is probably overrated anyway. It’s like what you were saying about being a prince; you don’t have any say over your life and spend your entire time cutting ribbons.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” George said slowly. “Maybe it won’t be that bad. The royal family isn’t as important these days, so I’ll have more freedom, and I can raise tons of money for charity. It might even be enough to make a difference one day.”

  “That’s great,” I replied weakly. “S
o you want to be a prince?”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted? You thought I was crazy for giving it up.”

  “I know. And I’m glad you’re considering it. Just promise you’ll think about it before making a decision.”

  “I will. Speaking of being blue-blooded and all that, I have to go get a DNA test today. Why don’t you hang out with your friends?”

  “They’re back up in York.”

  “Actually, they’re in London, and they’re going to be meeting you for lunch at the top of the Shard in an hour.”

  “They are?”

  “Yep. Do you have the best husband or what?”

  “Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek and then jumped out of bed to get showered and dressed.

  Meeting the girls was just what I needed right now. My head was a mess, and I could rely on them to set me straight. Brutal honesty over an expensive lunch was just what the doctor ordered.

  * * *

  “I can’t work out why you’re so glum,” Ellie said as she poured through the wine list. I knew for a fact she was just looking for the most expensive one, but I would have done the same thing.

  “Yeah,” Dani agreed. “It seems like you’re living the dream. George wants to accept his role as a prince. I never really paid much attention to all that Kings and Queens stuff in school, but I’m pretty sure that would make you a princess. I even saw an article the other day that said you and George should already be King and Queen. Sounds good in my book.”

  I looked around to make sure there was no risk of our conversation being overheard. We were relatively safe. Not only had George reserved us a table, he’d also paid for every other table in the near vicinity to be taken out of commission. Other than watching out for waiters approaching, we could talk as we pleased.

  “It’s not a real marriage, remember,” I reminded the girls. “We just signed a piece of paper and always planned to get divorced once the marriage was no longer necessary.”

  “Sounds like a real marriage to me,” Dani said. “That’s how my parents did it.”

  “You two are getting on okay though?” Ellie asked. “In all the photos, you two look like a real couple. Anyone would think you really were sleeping together.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. The red blush spreading across my face told the whole story.

  “You dirty girl,” Dani said far too loudly. “I’m so proud of you right now.”

  “What was it like?” Ellie asked.

  “What do you mean ‘what was it like?’”

  “I don’t know. Was it different being with a prince?”

  “He didn’t wear a crown while we did it. Although…”

  “Spill the beans,” Dani insisted.

  “He was a lot… larger than any other man I’ve been with.”

  Ellie and Dani both purred with pleasure, before the waiter came and snapped them out of it.

  “I’ll have a chicken salad,” I said to the waiter once the girls were done ordering their food and enough drink to last all day.

  “Would you like the lunch version, or a large dinner plate?” the waiter asked.

  “Large, please,” I replied.

  “Yeah, she’s all about the large portions these days,” Dani said, as she giggled with Ellie.

  “Come on then,” Ellie said. “What’s the problem? He’s a prince, he has a big dick, and he wants you to be his princess. I’m not about to do a charity fun-run for you at this rate.”

  Ellie had a point. No one would have any sympathy for me. All the public would see was some American girl who had come in and bagged herself a prince. When the pictures of me came out, some people would pretend to feel bad for me, but really they’d all be loving it. I’d be getting brought back down to Earth.

  The only people I could count on for sympathy were Ellie and Dani.

  “Have either of you two ever sexted with guys?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah,” Ellie replied. “Of course.”

  “I sent one a minute ago while you were ordering food,” Dani said. Her phone vibrated shortly after as if to prove the point. “See.”

  Someone called Mike had replied with a paragraph of sexual excitement.

  I want to take my fingers out of your pussy, and slide them into your mouth so you can taste your juices. Then I’m going to slide my tongue inside—

  “Okay, I don’t need to read any more of that. Does he know you’re at lunch?”

  “No, he thinks I’m naked in bed fingering myself something stupid.”

  “Do you want help crafting a sexy message for George?” Ellie asked.

  “God no,” I replied. “There’s no shortage of dirty stuff in my brain. What about photos and things like that. Have you ever sent them?”

  “Yeah,” Ellie said. “Although I wish I hadn’t. I hate knowing they’re out there.”

  “I’ve never done that,” Dani said.

  “You haven’t?” I asked in surprise. “I mean, I’m glad you didn’t send one of them while we were ordering food, but I have to admit, I’m surprised.”

  “I’m not sending nude photos to a guy. If they want to see it, they can come and get it.”

  “Well I sent some,” I said. “And not to George.”

  I told the girls how I’d sent photos to Stan and how he had a few video clips of us in compromising positions. Then I mentioned the email.

  “That little sod,” Ellie cursed. “I can’t believe he would do that.”

  “Yeah, well you don’t know him.”

  “How were you ever engaged to such a creep?” Dani asked.

  “I was young. Didn’t know any better. I would have married him if I didn’t find out on my wedding day that he’d cheated on me with my best friend. And quite a few of my other friends as well.”

  “Fucking hell,” Ellie cursed again. “So if George decides to formally become a prince, you’ll have to pay Stan off?”

  “That’s about the gist of it,” I said.

  “Could you get the police involved?” Ellie asked.

  “I guess. But I’m sure the pictures will leak if I do that.”

  For once the girls were silent. They had no suggestions or easy ways to get out of the problem, but at least they didn’t blame me for the mess I’d gotten myself into.

  “You have to tell George,” Ellie said eventually. “He needs to know. This affects him almost as much as it does you, and he’ll want to help.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “You need to trust him.”

  It was trust that had gotten me into this problem in the first place. Trust in a fiancé who ended up betraying me.

  Now I had to take that step again.

  I trusted George, but he’d been acting strangely lately. I knew he cared for me, but he also cared about his sister and nephew. If I got in the way of them… well, I knew who he would put first.

  The only good thing to come from my relationship with Stan was that it had forced me to move to England where I’d met George. Now I had to face the reality that I might once again be abandoned by the man I loved.

  The first time had nearly broken my heart. If George abandoned me now, it might just deal the fatal blow.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  George

  So far, thanks to Harry’s efforts, the mainstream media had given me space outside of the official public appearances, but I didn’t know how long that would continue. I also knew that certain outlets were prone to taking extreme steps to get scoops, and frankly it was best not to trust any of them. That meant not using my phone for any conversation I hoped to keep private.

  I picked up a pre-paid phone from a newsagent, loaded it with enough credit to make a long international call, and then dialed the number for Tabitha. She wouldn’t answer, but I could leave a message and—

  “Hello?”

  “You’re not supposed to answer calls from unknown numbers,” I scolded.

  “Oh give over,” she replied. �
�I’m quite capable of hanging up if a reporter calls. Stop panicking.”

  How could I not panic? If anything happened to them, it would all be my fault.

  “I’ve seen you on the television,” Tabitha said. “A lot. I thought you were going to keep a low profile.”

  “I was.” But then I got tempted by the dark side. “We decided to go out in public together, and then the rest just sort of… happened.”

  “You both look the part. I’d never know the relationship was fake. It is still fake, right?”

  “The marriage is fake,” I replied.

  “Hmm… interesting choice of words.” I really needed to become a better liar. “You still plan to get divorced soon?”

  “At some point, yes.”

  How could I ever divorce Sophia? Pre-planned or not, it felt like one of the stupidest things a human could do. When you convinced a woman like Sophia to marry you—regards of the circumstances—you didn’t just go and get a divorce. You clung on for dear life and rode out the wave for as long as possible.

  “You’re going to break her heart,” Tabitha said solemnly.

  “I’d never do that.”

  “You might not realize you’re doing it, but that’s what’s going to happen.”

  “This has all been planned since—”

  “I don’t care about your plan, George, and neither does she. I see the way she looks at you when you two are together. She’s either one hell of an actress, or she’s not playing your little game.”

  “It’s not a game,” I snapped. “This is serious, and we both know it. In fact, I’ve been thinking about ignoring the inheritance and becoming a prince.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I can raise a small fortune for charity as a prince, and I’m sure I can work out a way to funnel money to you and Liam for any therapy you need. In the long run, that has to be better than claiming my inheritance.”

  “Is Sophia okay with that?”