by R. S. Lively
Luca hangs up the phone with the fifteenth doctor. All of them have said no. And Luca is starting to lose hope. I can tell. “What is it?” he asks, tossing his cell phone on the bed.
I type in ‘Glendive, Montana, Neurosurgeon,’ laughing at myself. Really, all these hours later, and I’m just now remembering this? “There is an excellent neurosurgeon in Glendive, Montana. People from all over the world go to him. He has the lowest mortality rate in the country.”
“Why hasn’t he come up in all of our searches then?” Luca lifts his brows and crosses his arms like he has made a point.
“He works in a hospital in a town with a population of like three. Give him a break,” I snort, clicking on the link that takes me to the biography page on the hospital site. “And there he is—Dr. Caden Jackson.”
Luca leans over my shoulder and reads about him. It’s impressive. “I think he may be our last chance.”
His voice has no hope left in it, and it kills me. He is right though. No other doctor will touch this case. The tumor has gotten too invasive. They say doing it will turn her into a vegetable, but we aren’t going to give up. If Dr. Jackson says no, then we will just have to keep looking.
It’s nine at night in Belgium and one in the afternoon in Montana. I get the email ready with her medical chart and brain scans. I encrypt it with a password and paste the message we have sent to everyone. Then I give Luca the thumbs up to call. After a few transfers and being on hold for a while, he huffs.
“I’m not used to waiting.”
I pat his arm. “I know you aren’t. Poor baby.”
“Watch that sass or I’ll spank you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I tease, watching his eyes sparkle with heat.
He takes a step forward and his cock is right against my face, the tent rubbing against my cheek. I moan, knowing it will ignite his cock further.
He sets the phone down and places it on speaker. Since I’m sitting in a chair, he puts a hand on each arm, bombarding my space with his strong, masculine presence. His lips part, ready to dive in for a kiss before a voice interrupts us.
“Dr. Jackson speaking.”
Luca hangs his head and growls, snatching the phone off the desk. He smothers it against his shoulder and bites my earlobe. “Until later, my sweet.”
I squirm, pressing my thighs together to try to relieve the ache thundering in my clit.
“Prince Luca Addington the III of Belgium here, Dr. Jackson.”
There is a brief pause and a moment of silence before the doctor clears his throat and speaks. “Um, Prince, like royalty? That kind of prince?”
I smuggle a laugh with my hands, knowing what it feels like for the first time when you hear about royalty.
Luca smiles. I know he loves it when people get a little intimidated by his position of power. “Oui, Dr. Jackson. Royalty.”
Something in the background topples over, followed by a curse. “How can I help you, Prince? I’m assuming you wouldn’t be calling all the way from Belgium just for shits and giggles.”
Luca’s expression is priceless. “I don’t know the shits and giggles you speak of, Dr. Jackson.”
“Right, I apologize. It’s a saying over in the States. How can I help you?”
“I’m emailing you scans and charts. I hope you can help me.”
I press the send button and the familiar ding on the other end of the phone sounds. A few clicks later and Dr. Jackson whistles. “Holy hell, that is one beautiful tumor.”
“Excuse me?” Luca asks in defense.
“I’m sorry. The tumor is terrible. Whoever this is must be on the verge of death. It infiltrates like a butterfly, spreading its tumor wings in the worst possible areas of the brain. I’m assuming you haven’t had a doctor say yes to this surgery?”
“No. None.” Luca holds his breath, waiting to know what Dr. Jackson will say.
“I can see why. The chances of the person making it out of the surgery is slim, less than five percent. No one wants that on their hands.”
“Are you saying no?”
“Are you kidding? I never turn down a challenge like this. I can do this, but I will tell you—I will do my best to have the patient come out with no impediments, but the chances—”
“Slim. I know.” Luca rubs his temples with his hand. “But you’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it. Who is the patient in question? A friend?”
“The Queen of Belgium.”
“Your mother?”
Luca nods, knowing the doctor can’t see him. “My mother.”
Dr. Jackson cackles through the speaker. “No pressure, then.”
Luca grins. “No pressure.”
“I can’t believe I’m about to have the Queen of Belgium on my table, her brain in my hands.” He lets out a deep breath. “I’ll email you the earliest date on my calendar. I can move things around, the non-life-threatening surgeries, and get the queen in as soon as possible. She needs surgery right away. Every day that passes decreases her chances even more. She’s already waited too long.”
“No one would do it. She had no choice.” Luca defends his mother, his voice on edge.
“Idiot doctors. It’s a good thing you found me. I’ll email you. Au revoir, Prince.”
The attempt Dr. Jackson makes to say goodbye in French brings a smile to Luca’s face. “Au revoir.” He hangs up the phone and drops his head between his knees immediately.
“We did it!” I throw my arms around his neck, and he stumbles to the floor. I land on top of him, smiling down at his bright blue crystal balls. I swear, when I look at them, I see my future.
“You did it. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. What made you think of Glendive out of all places? I thought I would find the doctor in Boston or some large hospital.”
“Before I had to drop out of school, my teacher sneezed so hard he hit his head on the chalkboard and passed out and blood was everywhere. They said they airlift all head traumas to a hospital in Glendive because that’s where one of the best neurosurgeons resides. They don’t have one in Billings anymore. Dr. Jackson used to be in Billings, but not anymore. And they can’t find anyone good enough to replace him.”
“That’s dangerous for the people of Billings. They need a doctor.” Luca frowns.
“They always route the patients to Glendive. They never even see the inside of the hospital at Billings.”
“But the ride to Glendive could kill them if the injury is bad enough.”
“I know.” I lay my head on his chest and listen to the sound of his heart.
Badum, badum, badum.
It’s a drum, banging against my body, changing the beat of my own to match his.
“I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you for giving my family hope.”
I tighten my embrace around him, speaking without words. I’m the one who is thankful. “When should we tell your parents the good news?”
He exhales, causing my hair to tickle my forehead. “We should wait until we get the email from him telling us the dates. I don’t want to do anything until we have something set in stone.” He rolls us until I’m under him—my favorite place to be—and he smooths the hair out of my face, staring with what I hope is love.
“Let’s go celebrate down by the pool.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.” It’s a weak argument, but I have to make it again. I love seeing the playful look in his eyes.
His irises dilate, darkening into a threat that promised me lots of orgasms in the near future. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says, staring at my breasts. He runs his finger down the middle and back up to the base of my neck, and down again. “I don’t think you need a swimsuit. Your birthday suit is enough.”
“It’s not my birthday.” I play innocent, twisting and turning my fingers over his nipples.
“We can still celebrate.”
I don’t have time to say anything else as he drops his lips to mine and takes me in a rav
enous kiss that leaves me breathless. I need air, but I don’t want to pull away. I breathe through my nose, filling my lungs with oxygen. The room fills with our panting and groans. My body turns to fire when he nips my bottom lips and rolls the wounded flesh in his mouth, letting it go with an audible plop.
I moan into his mouth, hearing the erratic rate of his heart from the side of his neck, and I yank my lips away, peppering needy kisses down his neck until I get to the thrumming vein. I suck on it, licking the skin as I pull it into my mouth. He thrusts his denim-imprisoned cock between my legs, dry humping me with every suck I give to his neck.
We stay in this position, writhing against one another on the floor. The carpet is sandpaper against my legs, burning the skin with every back-and-forth friction, but the pain isn’t enough to stop the pleasure. If it means marking my entire body with red carpet burns from his sexual frenzy, I’ll gladly take them.
Luca uses my body. The thick helmet of his fat dick rubs against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I feel like I’m about to burst from all lust I have for you,” is all he can say before he is clawing at the low-cut material of my dress, a loud rip making my skin rise in goosebumps. My tits fall out, and his large hands grip them, squeezing them hard until I shout with pain, and then he twists my hardened bead. He ends his assault with fast, hard flicks to the swollen nubs.
“Perfect tits,” he says, marveling at my small breasts. “Fucking mine.”
“Yours.” I’ve been his since the day I came down those steps at the ball. The moment we locked eyes, he owned me. I didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that the soul I saw through those ocean eyes matched mine.
He strips me bare and cradles my hips in his hands, rocking my pussy over his cock. The front of his jeans gets wet from the juices leaking out of me. “Fuck, we have to stop,” he says, tossing my legs down and standing.
“What? Why?” I place my hand on my chest to try to catch the breath he has been stealing for the past ten minutes.
He tosses my robe to me. “Because I want to fuck you in the pool like I’ve wanted to for days now.” Luca pulls off his own pants and grabs a black robe with his name engraved over the right breast. Fancy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luca
I watch her float on her back in the water, staring up into the Milky Way. Her long, brown hair fans out, her arms spread, and the water glistens from the moonlight saturating her skin. Her pale flesh shines like it is drenched in oil, her breasts gleaming, her stomach taut and twinkling from the reflection of the stars.
“The water feels good. You’ve been sitting there forever. Didn’t you want to fuck me?” She flips onto her stomach and slices through the water with her lithe body. Her body glides along like a snake swimming through murky depths, hunting its prey.
Not today though. I’m nobody’s prey. I slink into the water and meet her halfway, rolling her onto her back. My hand meets in the middle of her spine to hold her up, and I walk with her around the pool, helping her float. Her pink rosebuds are solid from the water and the soft breeze tickling over them.
“I want to make love to you.” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them. Everything about Rosie has made me change. Women before, they were the ones I fucked. Rosie? Sure, primal urges take over and we have sex like wild animals, but the need to make love to her, it’s overwhelming.
I just hope she is patient with me since I’ve never made love before. I don’t care what anyone says; fucking is different.
She flips back over onto her stomach and pushes me against the wall of the pool. The concrete scratches my back, but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care about anything except the woman in front of me. “You’ve made love to me every day that I’ve been here.”
“No. Not the way I really want.” I move a thick part of her hair off her right shoulder, baring the beautiful skin for the night to see.
She backs away and a questionable frown pinches the middle of my brows. Rosie turns and exits the pool. The water cascades off of her, drenching the cement, changing it from the dry, pale grey to dark like a storm.
Rosie’s hips sway as she disappears into one of the private cabanas. I follow suit and my cock acts like a hose, water falling off my body. I follow her footsteps, stepping where she stepped. My hands part the red veil of the cabana as I enter the small, private space. The top of the tent is sheer, letting us see the full moon and the mass of stars dancing millions of miles away.
There’s a small cot inside, and her beautiful body drapes over it. Her legs are parted, her folds wet, and her finger slides back and forth in her tight well. “Come here and make love to me then.”
My body is in control. I feel like I’m living a dream. I float to her, already noticing my feet on the ground. I drift, kneeling between her legs on the cot. My hands run down the angles of her legs, memorizing every edge, curve and shape of her body. I want to be able to map her body out in the darkest of times. I want to know her inside and out.
I can’t tear my gaze from her hand between her legs, watching her finger push in and out of her wet channel. I appreciate her eagerness to find privacy, but what she doesn’t know is that I want to fuck her in the pool.
I want to fuck her on every surface of this castle. When I look down to eat my dinner every night, I want to be bombarded with pictures of her ass where my plate is. I grab her by the ankles and yank her to the edge of the cot.
She yelps with surprise from the move, and her finger slips out. I pick her up from her ass and throw her over my shoulder and head back toward the pool. “Where are we going?” Rosie asks, squeezing the apples of my ass.
I don’t answer. Instead, I submerge us back into the cool water of the pool and lean her against the wall. I stare at her face, taking in the droplets of water lingering. Her brown hair is slicked back, and her eyes are dusted with love. That’s what the look has to be full of, because I don’t know another word for it.
“I want you here,” I say, wrapping her legs around my waist, aligning my very hard cock with her pussy.
“What if someone sees?” she asks rapaciously.
I cup her face, wiping away the water droplets. “I will never let anyone see what is mine. Trust me.” The first inch of my shaft enters her slick pussy. I let out a shaky breath, holding onto the edge of the wall, using all my strength to grip it. It makes me wonder if I’m about to break it. I would rather break it though than her. And I know If I put both of my hands on her, that is exactly what would happen. I’m too wound up. The need for her is too strong.
I slide another inch of myself in, taking it slow, unlike all the other times before. She lays her head on the wall, closing her eyes as I fill her up, inch by inch until all ten sit inside her. She hums in the back of her throat, keeping her mouth shut. The vibrations from the sound cloak my cock. My breath quakes as I take her lips. Rosie tries to rush it, but I wrap my hand around her throat, giving it a good squeeze to remind her who is in charge.
Catching the whimper that escapes her mouth, I swallow it. I try to show her what I feel through every thrust, every move, every breath. I need her to know that I love her. Her heels dig into my ass, pulling me against her body. I want us to be as close as possible, but any closer and we will melt into each other.
If it was only possible.
“You feel so good,” she says, nibbling on my ear lobe. Her hot breaths pant against the sensitive shell, and she dips her tongue inside.
My hand clasps her hip, and I push into her, rocking her upward. Water splashes around us, swaying us like a buoy lost at sea. I keep curling into her, over and over again. My cock strains for release, but I can’t yet. I need her to come first.
I take her lips in a kiss that spills all of my emotions. I keep a hold on her throat, not squeezing too hard because I don’t want to ever hurt her.
“Prince!” she calls out, saying my title like it’s
my name.
Fuck. It unravels me.
My arms wrap around her waist, my hands kneading the meat of her ass. As much as I want to drive into her with all of my strength, right now, it’s about me making sure I pour all of my heart into her.
Because it’s hers. It’s been hers.
“I love you.” The words fall off my lips before I can stop them. I wanted to take her to a nice dinner, wine and dine her because that’s what she deserves, but I feel it right now. She has to know. I need to get it off my chest.
“I love you too. I’ve loved you since I saw you,” she exclaims, digging her nails into the flesh on my shoulders.
The admission makes me lose all control. I spin her around, bend her over, grip her hips, and go as deep as her pussy will let me. Nothing has ever felt better than when I’m burying myself inside Rosie. Her walls tremble around my cock, letting me know she is close. “That’s right, come for me. Come for your prince.” I lick a path from the bottom of her spine to her neck, biting down on her flawless skin, marking her ass mine.
Her hair flings back, whipping me like a leather belt as she screams. I muffle her cries with my hand, so no one hears it, but it’s probably too late. Her tight embrace between her legs spasms as she comes, and it makes the base of my spine tingle.
My balls pull tight to my body, and that familiar flush buzzes over my skin, telling me what’s to come. I pull her hair to the side and whimper when my cock becomes more sensitive as my orgasm get closer and closer. “Rosie,” falls out of my mouth in a twisted plea. I try to shove my stalk deeper. A thought invades my mind as I release the first stream of my fertile seed. Maybe she will give me an heir.
My palm flattens against her stomach, holding her to me as I come inside her channel, spasming, milking me into her womb. After the last tremor leaves my body, I don’t pull out. I lay my forehead on her back and press my lips against the lean frame, holding onto her like a lifeline.
“Did you mean it?” she asks.
“That I love you?”
She takes a peek over the curve of her slender shoulder and nods.