Royal Brat

by Madison Faye

  So I decided right there to do exactly that.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” I growled.

  I knew I should stop. I knew this was trouble waiting to happen. But I couldn’t. A fucking truck couldn’t have dragged me away from her right there. Gravity, a bullet — nothing could have stopped me from putting my hands on her.

  She gasped as I grabbed her wrists tight and spun her around, pulling her into me and pushing her against the car with my body.

  “What the hell are you—”

  “Bend over.”

  Riley gasped sharply.

  “What?” she whispered the word out, breathlessly.

  “You want to test me? You want to play this game with me, little girl?” I purred into her ear. “Bend over duchess,” I growled. “I’m going to teach this bratty little ass a lesson in manners.”

  Chapter 3

  Riley

  I panted, the adrenaline sizzling through me like electricity. My breath caught as as I bent over the warm chrome and metal hood of the vintage car, pulse roaring and on fire with, well, something. Something hot, something wild. Something that made me feel alive. It felt like this was the push back I’d been pushing for — the resistance to my out of control free-fall.

  “Take your hands off of me,” I hissed, not meaning a single one of the words. Because King Sven’s hands on me felt amazing.

  I shivered as I felt his hard, huge body press against me, his firm hands pinning me so easily, putting me exactly where he wanted. My insane brain, maybe fueled by the booze or an overactive imagination or whatever it was, pushed my thoughts to insane places — places where I imagined those powerful hands moving me all sorts of places, putting me into all sorts of positions. I blushed fiercely, shaking myself from those types of thoughts. I felt his hands slide down my sides, and I whimpered, panting as I felt him start to tug on my dress.

  …Oh my God this was really happening. And I was so freaking turned on.

  Maybe I was crazy, or a little more tipsy than I thought I was. Or maybe it was that for the first time, a real man was touching me the way I’d always craved. Someone big, and manly, and alpha as hell, telling me exactly what to do — telling me to behave.

  I swallowed the blush from my face, feeling heat pool between my legs as his hands tightened on the thin pink material of my bridesmaid dress. I felt my breath catch, my core tighten, and my knees shake.

  …And then, he stopped.

  I panted, letting go of the breath I’d been holding.

  “Did we learn our lesson about fucking with a man’s car?”

  His voice purred into my ear, making me blush and shiver before suddenly, I felt his hands move away from me. I blinked quickly, like I was waking from a dream as I slowly stood upright and turned to him.

  “You—” I shook my head. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it?” His eyes narrowed. “I guess that depends,” he growled. “Did we learn our lesson yet?”

  I knew I should have just shut my mouth, or just nodded, and said “yes sir” or “Your Highness” or whatever royal shit I knew I was supposed to do. But I didn’t. Maybe I was still riding that wave of heat he’d blazed through me. Or again, maybe it was the dumb whiskey. Whatever it was, “shutting my mouth” was the last thing I did.

  “The only thing I learned is how much of a pussy you are.”

  I saw the fire blaze in his eyes as his jaw clenched, and I felt that fire ignite through me, making me shiver in this mix of fear and anticipation. King Sven growled lowly, this raw animalistic sound, and I trembled.

  Oh, now I’d done it.

  He moved fast, and I gasped as his hands grabbed me again. And this time, he didn’t stop. This time, I whimpered as he turned me around, bent me over the hood of his Rolls Royce, and when his hands found my dress, I shivered. This time, he grabbed, and he yanked, tugging the pink dress high up my legs. I gasped, my whole face burning hot as I felt the air tease over my bare thighs, and higher, across my panties. I swallowed, panting as he pulled higher, up over my garter belt, which he growled at, and then even higher.

  I could feel him tug the dress right over my panties, exposing my bare ass, and the small, little pink thong I’d worn, pulled tight between my cheeks and tight across my pussy — my very wet, very aching, very wanting him pussy.

  It felt like time stopped — me barely breathing, my skin prickling and tingling. He was quiet, and I shivered, feeling the heat of his gaze slide over my skin.

  “You…” I took a shaky breath. “You can’t just—”

  “Oh, I can actually,” his deep baritone voice rumbled back, making me gasp quietly. I felt his hand slide up the back of my leg, making me whimper as he drew it higher.

  “If I didn’t know any better,” Sven purred into my ear. “I’d say someone was excited for this.”

  I wanted to say something, or throw something back in his face, but I was helpless. All I could do was whimper. Sven chuckled at the sound from my throat.

  …Yeah, that was the only answer he needed.

  “I want you to count.”

  “Count?” I panted.

  “I think the crime warrants five don’t you?”

  “Five wha—”

  His hand had drawn back away from my skin, and suddenly, it came down with a loud smack on my bare, soft ass. I yelped, heat and raw want blazing through me like a fire as his big hand rested on my stinging, heated skin. I trembled, panting and swallowing thickly as I felt the electric tingles of his touch and that one spank tease through every part of me.

  “Out loud,” he purred into my ear, making me whimper.

  “What?”

  “Count.”

  I nodded, fire blazing through me. “One,” I whispered.

  He drew back, and I could feel my core tighten in anticipation, wanting to feel his hand on me like that again. And then I did.

  “Two!” I gasped, moaning softly into my arm. Shame but also something hot and wild erupted through me. I knew he could see so much of me. God, I knew he could probably see how fucking wet I was, soaking my panties, and I suddenly wished I’d worn a black pair — something where it wouldn’t be completely obvious how slippery wet his hands on me were making me. The thought made my cheeks blush hot, knowing that this big, dominant older man could see my wet little panties clinging to my pussy.

  “Three!”

  I yelped as the hand came down again, and then once more on the other cheek.

  “Four!”

  “Good girl.”

  Oh fuck.

  And something about him saying that did it. Those words, with that voice, and the feel of those hands on me? Forget it. If I wasn’t turned on before, I was wet as a puddle after that.

  The hand came down again with a sharp smack, and I moaned out the last one.

  “Five!”

  It got quiet, and I could hear his barely contained panting breath, and feel the way his hand lingered and tightened on my bare ass. Slowly, panting, my face bright red, I turned, and our eyes locked, making me tremble.

  Holy shit.

  It was like fire blazing between us, like we were engulfed in the flames.

  “Did we learn a lesson today?”

  I nodded, my whole body trembling, my eyes locked on him.

  Oh, I’d learned something alright. I’d learned that I wanted this man more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. It was something primal — something deep inside of me that was hooked.

  “Good,” he purred quietly, his hand still stroking my ass. “Good girl.”

  I moaned. And he heard it.

  His eyes blazed, and his hand tightened on my bare ass. He moved against me, his eyes wild, his jaw clenched, and his muscles clenching. And I know what I felt when he pressed against me, I just couldn’t believe it — couldn’t believe the size of what I’d felt pressing against my ass as he leaned over me. His hand slid up my back,
over my dress, until he tangled his fingers into my long blonde hair. He tugged, pulling me up. I whimpered, feeling him move right into me, his body flush with mine and that huge throbbing bulge in his pants right against the small of my back.

  “I think someone likes being a good girl.”

  I nodded, panting, and barely containing the whimper in my throat.

  “Maybe,” I whispered.

  “Maybe I should keep punishing you then.”

  I gasped quietly, swallowing the heat from my face. “Maybe you shou—”

  “Riley?”

  I froze at the sound of my name from the other side of the hedges.

  “Riley, where the fuck are you?”

  The voice belonged to my friend Lola, also one of Callie’s bridesmaids.

  Sven froze too, before he moved away from me, his hand sliding out of my hair. I turned quickly, my eyes darting to his, my face still burning hot as our gazes locked.

  “I— I need to go.”

  “Do you now?” he growled, his hands sliding over my waist and making me whimper again as he tugged me against him.

  “Well don’t for a second think I’m done with you.”

  I bit my lip to hold back the moan, my hands flat on his chest and my eyes wide as he held my gaze with that fiery look. I felt the naughty heat from before burning through me, making my head spin as I lost myself in those eyes and in those big arms. And I was about to say something else, when suddenly, we heard heeled feet come clopping around the corner of the rose garden hedge.

  I barely had time to jump back from Sven, pushing my dress down and whirling just as Lola came trotting around the corner. She came to stop suddenly, her eyes going wide at the sight of Sven and me.

  “Oh! I—” Her brow arched sharply at me, her gaze flicking between Sven and me.

  “Uh, Lola, this is King Sven, of Northlund.”

  She kept staring at me another second before she dragged her eyes to him and smiled widely.

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  She even did one of those little princess-y courtesies that I was never doing.

  Show off.

  “Your Highness,” he growled, clearly aware of who she was.

  “We were just talking about his car,” I said quickly. Very, very quickly.

  “Uh-huh.” Lola’s eyes darted past me to the Rolls Royce, and I watched her bite back the grin as her gaze landed on the cock I’d scratched into the side of it.

  “Vandals,” Sven growled. “You never can be too careful.”

  ‘Well hopefully when you find them, you can punish them?”

  It was Lola speaking, but Sven’s eyes locked on me.

  “Oh, I believe I will,” he said darkly, his voice rumbling through my core and setting that fire blazing all over again.

  Chapter 4

  Riley

  “Uh, so, what was that?”

  “Nothing,” I blurted quickly.

  Lola, marching in front of me, turned on her heel, making me almost stumble right into her on the garden path.

  “Hey!

  “I call bullshit.”

  My friend pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Call it whatever you like,” I muttered. “C’mon. We’re late. Let’s find Faith and get to Callie’s dressing room.”

  “What were you just doing back there with King Sven?”

  Oh you know, just letting him bend me over his car hood, lift my dress up, put his hands on me, and spank me while I soaked through my panties and almost begged for more. No big deal.

  “Nothing,” I snapped again. “I was doing nothing with Sven, okay? I went out for a drink, and he was out there.”

  “You do that to his car?”

  “No.” I said it quickly. Too quickly, actually, and Lola spotted it. Her brows went up as her mouth opened in an O shape.

  “You scratched a dick into his car?”

  “Oh shut up.”

  “Dude what is with you today?”

  “Nothing, okay?”

  Callie, Lola, and Faith all knew about the whole arranged marriage shit I was being wrapped up in. But they didn’t know Prince Franklin was going to be there, at the wedding that night. They didn’t know it was at my friend’s arranged, terrible wedding, that I’d have to meet and smile nice with the man I’d be doing the same thing with in a few months time.

  And I sure as hell was going to keep it that way. Callie was one of my best friends. I mean all four of us were. But that she was going through this was rough enough. I wasn’t going to let my own drama cloud the waters even more.

  But again, Lola didn’t know that, and she wasn’t letting it go. She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “C’mon, Riley, you’ve been kinda…”

  “Kinda what?”

  “Kind of out of control today.”

  I glared at her. “You’re supposed to be on my team in this group of friends, you know.”

  She grinned. That was kind of a private joke of ours. Yes, all four of us were best friends, but there were definitely two camps. On one side were Callie and Faith — the good ones, the sweet ones. The virgins. Well, Faith had this real badass tattoo she’d gotten recently, but c’mon, she was a goody-two-shoes through and through. But Lola and I were on team rebel. The instigators. The troublemakers. Okay, Lola maybe hadn’t been with a guy — at least not all the way I guess. But still, she and I were the wild children.

  “I’m fine, okay?”

  “No, you’re off the rails today.” She nodded at my thigh, where my flask was tucked under my dress in my garter belt. “You’ve been drinking since you got here, and you’ve been this ball of like, chaos.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s me.”

  She sighed. “What’s going on, Riley?”

  “Not—”

  “Do not say nothing. We’ve been friends for too long.”

  “Lola, I love you, but it’s Callie’s day, okay? Today is about her.”

  “Ugh, tell me about it.” Lola made a face. “Think she’s going to go through with it?”

  “Callie? Have you met Callie? Yes,” I groaned. “She’s going to do it.”

  “It’s so shitty.”

  “Yeah,” I grumbled. “Drink?”

  Lola snorted. “No, I’m okay for now.”

  “Wouldn’t want daddy catching you with booze on your breath, huh?”

  Lola glared at me, her face going red. “Knock that off.”

  I grinned. “Just giving you a hard time.”

  The man I was referencing wasn’t actually Lola’s dad. But Xavier Danes, Duke of Bandiff, had been Lola’s guardian since her real dad had just walked off years before. Xavier treated Lola like a little princess, but he was also one stern guy. That and the fact that he was easily old enough to be her dad, and the joke name had stuck. Of course, the added edge to it, and one of the reasons I knew she was blushing so hard when I said it was that Xavier Danes was gorgeous. And not her real dad.

  …Hey, I’d be blushing all the time if I were Lola too.

  “Sure you don’t want a sip?”

  She swallowed, trying to clear the pink from her cheeks. “Probably later.”

  “You know where to find me.”

  “C’mon,” she grabbed my arm. “Don’t go thinking your evasive moves have thrown me off interrogating you about King Sven. But we need to get Callie ready.”

  “Callie!” Lola pounded on the door to our friend’s temporary quarters at King Milton’s palace. But Callie wasn’t answering.

  I frowned, pounding on the door myself. “Callie! C’mon!”

  I heard shuffling and hissed, hoarse whispers, and I raised a brow.

  “Uh, is she in there with someone?”

  Faith shook her head. “No?”

  “I mean a guy.”

  Faith blushed. “Of course not. It’s her wedding day!”

  “Oh, right, to King Milton,” I said with this snobby, effected voice, waving my hand like a queen
.

  My friends rolled their eyes.

  “Be good,” Lola muttered.

  “Be less good, jeez,” I muttered back.

  Finally, the door swung open.

  “Hi!” A flush-faced Callie greeted us, chewing on her lip.

  “Holy fuck, took you long enough.”

  I pushed past Callie into the room, my eyes darting over the space as if to sniff out the source of the hushed whispers I’d heard. Even if the idea that she’d have a guy in here was basically the opposite of the Callie I knew.

  Lola snorted as she followed me in. “Seriously, why the heck was your door locked?”

  “Maybe she just wanted a little privacy before her big day?” Lola and I both turned to roll our eyes at Faith.

  “Oh, right, yeah, she probably just wanted to reflect on what a special and magical day this is,” I snickered sarcastically.

  Lola elbowed me sharply in the ribs, and I winced before doing it right back to her.

  Honestly, these girls were the best. They were the sisters I’d never had. Heck, we were all the sisters we’d never had. We might’ve been different personalities, but it worked. We’d all grown up in the same snobby, elitist social circles of the royal world, and we’d all sort of rejected that snobbery together. Three princesses and a duchess, and we were the the furthest thing from what you might think when you think of “ladies in gowns with their jewels.” Okay, I mean shit, a girl can like amazing gowns and sparkly diamonds, but none of us had ever bought into the whole “scene” that most other young royal women were a part of.

  Suited us just fine.

  “You know it’s my job to give you a hard time, right?” I smirked at Callie as I reached under my bridesmaid dress and pulled out the flask.

  Faith sighed dramatically. “Really, Riley? Are you serious right now?”

  “Yes? It’s a wedding, Faith. Relax.”

  “Maybe you should relax,” my friend muttered back. “You’ve been drinking from that thing ever since you got here.”