“Pleasure yourself,” he commands, flicking his eyes between my legs.
Am I supposed to love it when he orders me around like that? Is it wrong that the sound of his voice makes me want to melt? Burn? Obey?
I’ve always been independent. I’ve always wanted to explore the world and see what else was out there. I’ve collected treasures from everywhere and anywhere. Scraps of this and that, precious to only me.
I’ve always thought of myself as someone who wanted to explore.
Right now, though? The only thing I want to explore is Theo’s body. The only world that holds any interest to me is the universe inside his eyes. The only treasures I want to collect are his moans. His kisses. His touch.
Reaching down between my legs, I start teasing my clit. Theo lets out a low exhale as the pool lounge chair creaks beneath us again. I brace myself against it, riding Theo as I pleasure myself.
The Prince’s bad arm is pinned against his chest while his other hand drifts over my body, teasing everywhere he touches. When he lets his fingers slide down my side and over my thigh, a trail of goosebumps follows. I know I’m near the edge.
Alone with him, at the edge of the world, Theo gives me everything.
He drives himself deeper inside me as I ride him, and my pleasure crests. My orgasm isn’t timid. It doesn’t hesitate. It slams into me with all the force of my waiting and wanting. It makes me keel over, sinking my fingers into the Prince’s uninjured arm to keep from falling off.
Heat rips through my body. It blazes through my veins like molten metal, electrifying every inch of my trembling body. A gasp slips through my lips as the Prince grunts, his fingers gripping my thigh so hard it feels like the only thing keeping me upright.
It’s an orgasm like never before. It’s a release from everything I’ve been holding inside me, and a promise that I’ll always look for more.
More lust.
More mind-melting, body-burning pleasure.
More Theo.
I’m so busy riding my own wave of lust that I barely notice the Prince stiffening underneath me. His whole body tenses. Vaguely, at the back of my mind, I realize he’s coming, too. I feel his shaft growing harder and his fingers grip me tighter. His grunts become more labored.
“I’m going to come,” he groans, his hand digging into me.
Does he want me to get off? Does he think that’s even possible for me to do right now? No part of my body is cooperating with my brain. I couldn’t move if I tried.
So, I don’t try.
I rock my hips again, riding the last wave of my pleasure as my body burns up.
The Prince empties himself inside me, and I can’t help but smile. Another, smaller wave of pleasure washes over me, bathing me in a soft glow of bliss as I try to catch my breath.
I like the feeling of his orgasm. I like knowing that it happened with me. Because of me. Inside me.
As my vision clears, I see the Prince’s chest heaving. He releases my thigh and rubs his injured shoulder, groaning.
“You hurt?” I ask between breaths.
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“It was worth it.” A smile tugs at his lips. Soft warmth spreads through my chest, and I finally climb off the Prince’s lap.
Stumbling, I catch myself against another pool chair as a laugh slips through my lips. My legs feel like jelly and my brain hasn’t quite managed to function normally again, either. Pink, fluffy clouds of brain fog obscure my every thought, and all I can do is collapse against the other chair as I struggle to catch my breath.
The Prince chuckles, glancing over at me. “You’ll end up like me. Just two injured idiots touring around the Kingdom, pretending we know what we’re doing.”
“Who are you calling an idiot?” I grin at him, leaning my head against the back of the chair.
Vaguely, at the back of my mind, I realize that I just had unprotected sex with the Crown Prince of Argyle. Pink, fluffy brain fog chases the thought away.
It’ll be fine. I just had my period recently, didn’t I?
It’s just one time.
But as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I know that I don’t want it to be only one time at all. The Prince and I stare at each other from our respective chairs as the waves crash on the shores below. As the clouds in my head clear, I hear seagulls squawking and the pool filter gurgling next to me. Wind rustles through the trees, and a soft, warm breeze wraps the Prince’s scent all around me.
No, I don’t want this to be the only time we make love. A flush blooms over my cheeks as all my familiar fears and insecurities swell up inside me. I blink rapidly, looking away from Theo’s face.
This shouldn’t happen more than once, but I still hope it will. I can’t marry him, even though my family wants me to. We can’t be together. There are too many things standing between us. Too many obstacles to our happiness. Too much baggage to drag around.
Theo senses the shift in me and lifts himself off the chair.
“Come on,” he commands in his familiar voice as the future King of Argyle. “Let’s shower.”
He nods to an outdoor shower on the opposite side of the pool, and I push my fears away. For now, I’m here. I’m with Theo. I can ignore the future looming in the distance, when we tell our family that we won’t go through with the marriage.
For now, we’re pretending, and that’s enough for me.
13
Theo
Watching Cara slip her thin sundress off makes my breath catch. In the solitude of our royal villa on the Island of Arlian, our relationship feels almost real. We’re tucked away on the edge of the Atlantic, with no one but seagulls to keep us company.
When we’re together, I’m whole. I’ve spent so long thinking I could become King on my own that I haven’t stopped to wonder if I might be missing something.
Love. Laughter. The companionship of a good woman.
Ever since my mother left, my father has shrunk away from his responsibilities. Our relationships with the neighboring countries deteriorated, and trade agreements have expired and turned sour.
As Cara turns on the faucet and tests the temperature of the water, I start to wonder if maybe this relationship is exactly what I need.
Argyle isn’t a behemoth of a Kingdom that needs its old, dying King. It’s a bright, vibrant nation that needs new life. New trade. New industry.
A new King.
Maybe a new Queen, too.
Have I been so focused on fulfilling my duties and being responsible that I’ve neglected the importance of being happy?
Cara glances at me, nodding to the shower. “It’s warm now. Is your sling okay to go in the water?”
I nod. “It’s fine.”
My eyes drift down Cara’s body. She’s curvy, lithe, and completely breathtaking. She’s athletic and feminine all at once, probably thanks to being born a swimmer. With my uninjured arm, I push her long, brown mane of hair to one side and drop a kiss on the back of her neck.
She sighs, leaning her head back against me. I lay a trail of kisses down her shoulder, reaching around her body to feel her skin beneath my hand. Cupping her breast, I kiss her neck again, then her ear, her jaw, and when she turns her head, her lips.
Every movement feels natural. Underneath the stream of water in the shower, I kiss this woman like she’s going to be my wife.
I know it’s all fake, but right now it feels real. Our worries fade into the distance, and I just hold her close and kiss her with the strength of my passion.
We wash each other, staring down at the strip of beach that belongs to the royal family—to me.
It could belong to Cara, too, if she wanted it. As her hands drift over my chest, she spreads suds and soap over my body. She washes my injured shoulder with the gentlest touch, flicking her eyes to mine a few times to make sure she’s not hurting me.
She cares.
Cares about hurting me. Cares about hurting my
brother by being here.
All the while, she pushes her own dreams aside.
Should I really be asking her to do that? Here I am, having my body washed by the most beautiful girl in Argyle, dreaming of making her my wife.
But she told me herself she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to be my wife. She doesn’t want to stay in Argyle. She wants to explore, to sing, to travel.
The only way I can give her that is if I let her go.
The royal life is regimented and planned. I’ll travel, sure, but it won’t be the way she wants to travel. She won’t be sticking her arms out of a convertible and sailing the high seas.
If this relationship were to become real, I’d be condemning Cara to a life of pomp and circumstance, devoid of the spontaneity she craves. It would be the life I’ve been living since I was a child—duty, responsibility, and the weight of the crown.
“What’s going on in that big, princely head of yours?” Cara chucks my chin as she arches an eyebrow. “You look like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders.”
“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” I answer, dropping my lips to hers.
The shower soaks us both as we kiss, and the sun dips below the horizon. Pulling away from me, Cara stares at the sunset as a sigh slips through her lips. She leans her head against my good shoulder, and we stand there in silence.
Comfortable silence. Companionable silence.
A silence that I could get used to, if Cara wanted it.
Then, she pulls away and turns off the shower. “I’ll get wrinkly at this rate,” she grins. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
When we make our way inside, wrapped in white, fluffy towels, the air conditioning is blasting through the villa. Cara shivers, finding the remote to turn it off.
“No need for that,” she huffs, shivering.
I love that Cara is comfortable around me. She treats me like any normal person. She isn’t scared to turn off the air conditioner without asking me. She doesn’t defer to my preference for everything.
She’s her own, whole person, not some shell of a human created to do my bidding.
Right now, she has her head stuck in the refrigerator. I stare at her ass as she pulls out some of the pre-made food the royal chef prepared before our arrival.
“I could definitely get used to this,” Cara says, flipping open a container to reveal delicious spiced chicken and rice. “This is better than my cooking for sure.”
I grin, grabbing the fork she hands me and dig in. I ignore the tremor in my heart at the thought of Cara getting used to this life.
That would mean she wanted this life. That she chose it.
That she chose me.
The next day has a full schedule of royal activities. Cara accompanies me as a guest, staying out of the spotlight. As we visit the local elementary school and then the hospital, I find myself glancing at her and wishing she were beside me for all these photo opportunities instead of staying in the background.
We haven’t gone public with the engagement, for obvious reasons—it’s not real. An engagement to Cara Shoal would cause a splash, and a breakup would cause an even bigger one. We can’t let anyone know about our supposed engagement.
She’s only here to buy me some time with Dante.
But I still steal a glance or two her way. When we visit the children’s ward in the hospital, I watch as Cara reads a story to two of the kids, who laugh and lean against her. Cara’s cheeks flush as she reads the book aloud, making different voices for the characters and slowly gathering more and more kids around her. They flock to her, and my heart thumps.
She’s good, she’s kind—and everyone can see it. What if a couple of those kids were ours? I push the thought aside.
When the day is over, we head back to the villa. Cara leans her head against the back of the car seat, sighing.
“That was exhausting, but nice.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “I know no one was there to see me, but I still felt lucky. All those kids at the hospital have gone through so much, but they’re still smiling and laughing.”
“Because of you,” I grin.
“What? No.” She shakes her head. “They were so brave.”
“They loved you.”
“They were excited to meet their future King.”
“And Queen.” The word slips out. I clear my throat to cover it up, looking away from Cara.
She’s not the future Queen. No one knows about our supposed upcoming engagement, and no one was looking at her as my bride.
But she was there, and she was loved.
I never saw my mother act like Cara did, or be received as openly as Cara was. I never saw kids flock to her, and photographers snap pictures of her.
My mother was cold. She cheated on my father and then she left. I haven’t spoken to her in years. I guess, in a way, I always assumed that becoming King would be easier if I did it on my own. I’d protect myself from going through the heartbreak that my father went through.
Cara’s different, though. She would make a great queen.
But it’s. Not. Real. How many times do I have to remind myself of that?
I stare at the island passing us by as our driver winds through the lush countryside. We drive over rolling hills, and the true sense of responsibility starts to weight on me. This is my kingdom.
Then, Cara’s hand slips into mine. I turn to meet her gaze, and a soft smile stares back at me. Her eyes speak volumes, even though we don’t say a word.
She’s here beside me, and that’s real enough for now.
The car comes to a stop and the driver opens my door.
“Your Highness,” he nods, helping me out of the vehicle. “Do you need anything else? I’ve had the staff prepare dinner for you. The chef and maid are still here for your dinner service, but I’ve told them you won’t be needing them afterward.”
“Thank you. We’ll be fine.”
Cara appears at my side, not having waited for the driver to open her door. She smiles at him before slipping her arm around my waist to help me into the villa.
14
Cara
The lines on Theo’s face betray how much his shoulder hurts him. As he sinks down onto the plush sofa in the villa’s living room, I watch him dig around his pocket for his bottle of painkillers.
I hate seeing him like this, and it surprises me just how much I care.
Sitting down next to him, I lay my hand on his thigh as we watch the chef and the rest of the staff prepare our dinner. Theo lets out a long breath. He closes his eyes, and within moments, he’s asleep.
My heart squeezes.
Of course I care about him—we’ve been friends our whole lives. Even when I was with Luca, Theo meant a lot to me.
But it’s like he said, something shifted between us on that sailboat. Things changed when we kissed, whether I want to admit it or not. Today, seeing him acting like the King of Argyle, I saw another side of him.
He’s not just the strait-laced Prince who does his duty. It runs deeper than just doing what he’s supposed to do. It’s his passion. His calling. He’s dedicated and caring, and he’ll be a great king.
Maybe, just maybe, there’s room in that story for me.
But is that what I want, or am I just being blinded by the luxury of the royal life?
As we wait for our dinner to be prepared, I drift off to a place between wakefulness and sleep. My mind runs away with all the possibilities that could be. If we didn’t have the weight of the past between us. If I hadn’t been promised to his brother. If he wasn’t going to be King.
A future with Theo would be bright. I liked seeing him interact with his subjects today. He had a glow in his eye, and he made sure to give every single person his full attention. It made us incredibly late for every stop on the schedule—and exhausted him in the process—but it showed me the kind of King he’s going to be.
He’s not a slave to his responsibilities—he embraces the
m. I used to think Theo was a bit boring, and I assumed it was because he knew he would be King. I never realized that ‘boring’ for me was fulfilling for him.
Once we tell our parents that we’re not going through with the engagement, all this will be left behind. I’m sure my mother will make sure that I leave Argyle, then. I’ll have ruined my chances with not only one, but two royal princes of Argyle.
That’s not what bothers me, though. Pain pierces my chest when I think of someone else being beside him after I leave. Will another woman take my place after this fake engagement is over?
Theo rustles beside me, blinking his eyes open. “What time is it?”
“You’ve been asleep for about three minutes.”
He chuckles, rubbing his face with his hand. “Felt like hours.”
“I think the food’s almost ready.”
I help the Prince to his feet, and then enjoy a quiet meal with him. I’ve noticed that since we’ve been at this villa, we’ve shared more silence than we did before. Even on the sailboat, when we were quiet, there was underlying tension.
Now, it’s just peaceful.
When dinner is over, I can tell that Theo’s tired. He dismisses the staff and then trudges up to the ensuite bathroom. We brush our teeth, and then I hover at the doorway, unsure whether or not he wants me to come into the bedroom with him.
Last night, we slept in the same bed, but then again, we’d just had sex. Today, there hasn’t been any of that.
Maybe Theo wants his privacy?
But after he pulls off his socks, he glances at me. “What are you doing standing in the doorway? Get over here.”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to sleep alone tonight. You look tired.”
“Being with you is better than being alone.” His eyes shine when he says the words. Simple words, but with rich meaning.
My heart thumps. It’s like it’s knocking against my bones, asking me to listen. Listen to the pulse thudding in my veins. Listen to the fickle, fragile organ in my chest as it tells me to let myself fall for Theo.
Knocked Up by the Wrong Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 9
