Dirty Prince

by L. Nicole

  “Don’t look away, Ree. You watch me the entire time,” I demand.

  She swallows, nervously. The sound is audible, even over the pounding of my blood echoing in my ears. She should be nervous. I don’t know what kind of men Ree has in her life—including her father, but it’s clear they were just boys and they didn’t value her. I position myself at her entrance, and there’s a small voice in my head saying I need to be softer with her, cherish her, show her love. I ignore it. Right now, this is all she will understand, all I can muster inside of me. I can’t manage to get past the anger at the moment.

  I thrust inside of her, not stopping until I’m balls deep inside of her.

  “Yes…” she moans, her pussy trembling against my hard shaft, her muscles clenching my cock so damn tight, I can barely hold back. Still, I don’t move. Instead, I burrow my head against the side of Ree’s neck, breathing in her scent. I push against her ear, sucking along the shell, teasing it with my teeth.

  “You crave my cock, Ree. Can you really picture a world where we don’t have this?” I growl into her ear, while I grind against her.

  “Shut up and fuck me, Eddie,” she counters, shocking me. Her hips thrust out, her nails biting into my bare ass, as she tries to make me give her what she wants.

  “You’re mine,” I growl. “You’ll always be mine, Ree.”

  I begin fucking her hard. It’s not about anything other than driving our bodies over the edge. There are no sweet words, there’s nothing but my body driving into hers and taking what I want. I’m pissed as hell she isn’t choosing us, instead giving in to her father’s demands. I should be enough. If she cares about me, then her choice should be fucking simple.

  My mouth finds her nipple, even as she searches for my mouth, I don’t kiss her. I can’t. I want her to feel the pain I have inside. The hurt from what she’s doing. So, I bite down on her nipple, inflicting pain, marking her body the way she seems to have marked my damn heart. I feel a gush of wetness coat my cock as the muscles quiver all around me.

  “Yes,” she hisses, her hand holding onto my head to try and keep me there at her breast. I look up, seeing the pleasure written all over her face.

  “You like that,” I literally moan.

  “I like it. I like everything you do to me,” she breathes. Her body bucks against me as I fuck her harder and harder. My strokes are insistent, harsh, bordering on violent. But, Ree, takes it all, matching me in intensity.

  “Fuck, I’m going to come, Ree,” I groan, my orgasm barreling through me. I bite on her nipple again, sucking it into my mouth as I fill her sweet pussy with cum. Ree comes seconds later, crying out my name, her entire body shaking, as I overfill her.

  Eventually, I’m able to breathe, able to think. I pull out, my cock still semi-hard.

  “Don’t leave,” she begs. “I want you inside of me, Eddie,” she moans, her voice raw, probably because she screamed out my name when she came.

  I ignore her plea, my hand going to cup her between her legs. My cum is leaking out of her pussy and I hold it in, squeezing her cunt, feeling it tremble, and her threaded intake of breath as her body starts showing signs that she needs me again.

  “Do you really think you could give yourself to another man after what we’ve shared, Princess?”

  “Eddie…” she whimpers, her body still trembling.

  “Do you think you can open those legs of yours and let another man crawl between them? Let him be the one you hold onto in the night? Beg to make you come? Can you honestly tell me that you can do that?”

  “Please, Eddie, stop,” she says, tears sliding out of her eyes even as her hips begin rocking, and she grinds against my hold.

  “I love you Ree, choose me. I need you to choose me.”

  “Eddie, you have to understand,” she says, her tears falling harder.

  I hate that she’s crying. I hate it more than she won’t give me the words that I need to hear from her. I do the only thing I can do right now. I walk away from Ree and it kills me inside the entire fucking time.

  But if she thinks this is over, she’s fucking wrong.

  15

  Ree

  I sit on the bed in silence, wondering what to do next. Showers are supposed to make you feel better, but mine didn’t. All it did was make me sad because it washed away all trace of Eddie. That’s not exactly true. He’s still in my heart. I keep going around and around this in my head. Eddie doesn’t understand. Hell, I’m not sure I do anymore either. If it just involved me, I’d abdicate the throne, I’d tell my father what he could do and where he could go, then I would run back to Eddie with open arms.

  The problem is that it’s not all about me. If I back out of this marriage, it will be a global incident. Two small countries together are stronger. One small country that makes an enemy out of an ally in today’s world is anything but good. There are people in my country depending on this this marriage and the benefits the merger of our two families would bring. If I had a brother or even older sisters, it would be different.

  But as an only child…

  I stare at the box my father sent. Eddie went and picked it up from Camille a week ago and I’ve yet to open it. Eddie put it in the corner of the room, and he hasn’t pressured me to open it. I don’t know how he got around my father’s guards and to be honest, I didn’t ask. I was just glad.

  I stare at the box and I know that today can’t really get any worse, I might as well open the damn thing. Maybe it will be a peace offering gift and a note telling me he releases me from the marriage contract.

  I walk over to it, then slide to the floor. I stretch over to the nightstand and flap my hand around until I find the nail file that I used earlier there. I use it to tear the packing tape that has the box sealed and after a few minutes of struggling I get it open. There’s a note on top of white tissue paper. It’s on my father’s royal stationary, but there’s no handwritten note from my father. It’s from his secretary.

  Your father thought you might want this early so a fitting and alteration appointment can be scheduled upon your return—Kelli

  I pull back the tissue to reveal the dress my mother wore when she married my father. I fall back on my ass, pushing the box away from me.

  I was wrong… the day just got worse.

  16

  Eddie

  “Ree we need to talk.”

  I’m an idiot. I left her alone all day. I had to. I needed to cool down. That meant I went for a very long run. I showered downstairs in a guest bath putting on some workout clothes I kept in my gym. I was being a coward, I know, but damn it, a man’s ego can only take so much. I just couldn’t handle more rejection—my emotions were too raw. Now, however, it’s dinner time and we can’t go on like this. I’m being an asshole. Maybe I should just take what she gives me and have faith that it will work out and her love for me will grow. Yet, saying that is easier than trusting it will.

  Is it so wrong to want the woman you love to pick you—to put you first?

  I knock on the door when she doesn’t answer. I let out a frustrated breath and turn the knob, half expecting it to be locked. When it’s not, I let out a breath. Maybe she’s not as mad as I think…

  The room is dark. So, I flip the switch on the wall. My gaze immediately goes to the bed and I frown when I find it empty. I look around the room, but there’s no sign of her. I walk to the en suite, but she’s not there either. I start to go back downstairs. Maybe she is in the library, she loves that room. But, when I turn around, something catches my eye. The vanity is clear of all of Margarita’s stuff. There’s no brush, no makeup, toothbrush… There’s none of the stuff she bought, nor any of the stuff I brought back from her place when I picked up her package.

  It’s all gone.

  I immediately go to the walk-in closet, turning the light on. I should breathe easier because her clothes are there. I don’t however, because when I look closer, there is something very clear. Margarita’s dress she was wearing that first night
and the few items her friend Camille packed up for her are gone. The things we bought together are all that are here.

  As I go back into the bedroom, I notice the box her father sent is gone too.

  She’s gone.

  She left before our two weeks were up.

  She left without a goodbye.

  She left everything behind that I bought her.

  She left.

  17

  Ree

  One Month Later

  “You have to admit it, girl. Your husband to be has a seriously amazing crib.”

  I look over at Camille, who is sitting crossways in a chair by my bed, her legs are thrown over one of the arms and she’s munching on a bag of chips, flipping through some gossip magazine. I sigh, wondering why I brought her with me. I love her, but she’s not helping my nerves at all.

  “I’m not sure you can call a palace a crib,” I mutter, looking at myself in the mirror.

  Tonight, is the first day I’m going to see my husband to be. I’m dreading it like the plague. That’s not fair to Prince Archibald, I know, but it’s true. Of course, ever since leaving Eddie’s I dread everything. As each day passes, it’s getting harder to breathe.

  Maybe it’s because Eddie was right and I’m in love with him, and I’ve regretted leaving him from the moment I did it.

  It could be because I haven’t heard one word from Eddie since I left. He hasn’t called my cell, he didn’t come by the house on the island, nothing it has been completely silent.

  I expected him to be mad. I knew it would hurt him. Still, there was a part of me that believed he would fight for me. I’m twisted enough to admit that I wanted him to, maybe I even needed him to.

  But he didn’t.

  All of that means, I’m grieving Eddie. My heart hurts, my eyes are raw from the tears I’ve shed, and I feel like I’m only half alive.

  But, even that isn’t why I’m walking around full of dread.

  It’s because today will bring the end of everything I’ve known.

  I’m not going to marry Prince Archibald. I can’t. I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with Eddie. He might have given up on me, and maybe I deserve that, but in my heart, I know that marrying another man is wrong. I don’t want anyone else but Eddie. I want to be with him, I want to build a home with him, I want children with him…I want to grow old with him.

  I’ve made him so mad, hurt him deeply, and I know I may never get that chance…

  I let out a deep sigh.

  There’s a chance I’m fooling myself. He’s gone silent, he didn’t try to fight for me. Maybe, he doesn’t love me, never cared for me like I did him.

  I hate to think that, but as the days pass, I can’t help it.

  Then, there’s the small detail that I’m also pregnant.

  I took a home pregnancy test before I flew out to meet Prince Archibald. My father thinks I’m here to prepare for the wedding. I let him think that and maybe that makes me weak. I know my father, however. He wouldn’t have listened, and he’ll never forgive me. That meant I would have to leave. I felt Prince Archibald deserved to hear it in person, however. There’s a small part of me that thought if I met with the Prince I could do some damage control. Maybe then, it wouldn’t evolve into an international incident.

  “Are you even listening to me, Margarita?”

  I force my attention back to Camille, because I haven’t had a word she’s said.

  “I’m sorry. My mind is moving in a million directions,” I confess.

  “No, it’s not. It’s only going in one,” she corrects. “And it leads right back to Eddie Andrews.”

  “Yeah,” I admit. “It is.”

  “Girl, he hasn’t even tried to talk to you in a month. Are you really going to give up your entire world, your heritage to chase after him?”

  “I have to,” I murmur.

  “You don’t have to do anything,” she counters.

  “Well, I mean, I’m not going to chase him. But, I will let him know that I didn’t marry Prince Archibald.”

  “Why? Why would you tell him one thing, Margarita?”

  I’ve not said the words aloud. I’m almost afraid to say them.

  “Because I’m pregnant.”

  The words hang in the silence of the room as Camille just stares at me her eyes wide. My heart is beating so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t pound through my chest.

  Before she can say anything, there’s a knock on my door and I hurriedly go to open it.

  “Prince Archibald wishes to see you,” Walter, the Prince’s assistant, says, when I open the door.

  I look back at Camille as a wave of nervousness threatens to overtake me. “Wish me luck,” I murmur. She nods her head but doesn’t say anything else, maybe she’s still in shock.

  As I close the door behind, I wonder why it sounds like doom ringing in my ears.

  18

  Margarita

  The room I’m taken to is massive with marble floors, lots of windows that overlook the seascape and grandiose leather encased furniture. As a princess I’m used to luxury, but this is way over the top. It’s old world too, it reminds me of something you would see in a movie like on the set of Bram Stoker’s Dracula adaptation. A chill comes over me as that thought hits me. I know I’m being silly, but I can’t help it.

  When I walk toward the massive desk, the prince has his back turned to me—or I assume that’s where he’s at. The chair is turned so that whoever is in it is also staring at the water below.

  I feel weird. Do I introduce myself? I thought he would greet me at the door, but then, perhaps he’s against this marriage as much as I am. If he is, that would definitely be a good thing.

  “I regret that we haven’t had the chance to meet sooner, Margarita, as you can imagine my work keeps me very busy,” he finally says. He turns around slowly and immediately I can tell that my imaginings of Prince Archibald were very off base.

  He’s got jet black hair that reminds me of Eddie’s, although the Prince’s is cut more professional, while Eddie’s is on the verge of always needing a cut and unruly. He’s just as broad as Eddie, too. He’s not disfigured or old, or any of the rumors given about him. In fact, he would be the kind of guy that I could be attracted to—if I wasn’t already in love.

  “That’s okay, your Highness, to be honest, I requested my father let me go on vacation and sort through everything before I contemplated our marriage,” I confess.

  “And did you?” he asks, studying me.

  “Did I what?” I question, losing track of the conversation.

  “Sort through everything?”

  “I…I believe so. I was hoping we could discuss them.”

  “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  “Yes. I…I can’t marry you.”

  I stumble over the words, wringing my hands together, trying to force my legs to hold me up. The gravity of what I’m doing is huge, but I know in my heart that I don’t have a choice. I look directly at him, despite my fear. I don’t see surprise in his features at all. There’s also zero emotion. I know we don’t know each other, but somehow I imagined he would be upset. He seems to be studying me.

  “There are contracts, promises made, Margarita,” he says sternly.

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t… I can’t go through with this.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I am—”

  “Does it have to do with the man you were tied to in the Cayman’s?”

  “I…excuse me?”

  “Surely you didn’t think that I wouldn’t keep tabs on my intended bride, Margarita? After all, there are certain standards that have to be met for a perspective Queen.”

  I flinch, because somehow, from the tone of his voice, I don’t think I measure up.

  “I have nothing to hide,” I respond with a shrug, my anger coming to my rescue and overriding my nerves.

  “Including the fact that you were living with a man, even after you agreed
to our marriage?”

  I wince inwardly at his statement, which was said more as a question. I mean, if you put it like that, it does sound bad.

  “I never wanted our marriage. It was thrust upon me without choice. Eddie was…”

  “Your choice?” the Prince drawls.

  “He was. I love him,” I respond, refusing to back down.

  “Love,” the Prince, scoffs.

  “Love,” I reaffirm, knowing that even if Eddie refuses to take me back that I will always love him. My hand inadvertently goes to my stomach and I smile, despite the gravity of the situation. I’ll always have a piece of him no matter what.

  “Love is a trivial emotion, made out to be some great feeling by books, music and movies,” he dismisses.

  “It’s not that at all. Love is the only thing that truly matters,” I counter.

  “If that’s true then why did you leave your lover to come here, Margarita?”

  “Because, as you said, promises were made, lives will be effected. I needed to see you in person, to plead that you don’t hold my father or my country responsible for my own decisions.”

  “And what is your decision?”

  “As I said, I can’t marry you, Prince Archibald.”

  “You’re willing to displease your father, cause rifts between our families and our countries, all for what? To live a normal life with this—”

  “With Eddie. Yes, if he will have me back, definitely.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then, regardless, I still can’t marry you. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “This is highly…”

  “Unusual?” I suggest, feeling stupid.

  “That’s one word. You surprise me, Margarita. I must confess that I find myself admiring a woman that I thought…”