The Royals Series

by Bay, Louise

She flung her arms over her head and tightened around me. She was always beautiful, but it felt as if I possessed her when she came. Violet’s orgasms were mine.

  Her sexy, sultry smile of post-climactic satisfaction gave me the signal that she was ready for a little bit more. Her first orgasm had been slow and lazy, a wake-up call.

  She swept her fingers across the top of my brow, tracing the edges of effort that lay there. Her soft and subtle touch disguised how wicked I knew she could be. And then, as if to prove my point, she clenched my cock and grinned. “More,” she whispered.

  She’d once warned me not to be too gentle with her, and although she liked me to be tender at times, I knew she enjoyed hard and sharp—the rough with the smooth. I wanted to notch up the pleasure. I pivoted my hips and pushed in deeper. Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip. I slid my hand under her bottom, holding her, pressing my fingers into her perfectly soft flesh, pushing her against me as my body slammed into hers.

  She gasped as I dipped my head and grazed my teeth across her neck, tasting her, drinking in that scent of Indian summer I’d thought I’d lost forever. I drove deeper, faster, harder, desperate to show how much I wanted her, how good I could make her feel. I wanted to prove to her she’d never need anything else but this.

  Pleasure circled at the base of my spine and began to rise. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate, dampening down this overwhelming need. Sensation ricocheted across my body, from her fingernails scraping against my jaw to the sound of her groan beneath me.

  Fuck.

  This woman.

  I drove deeper, and each time she got a little tighter, a little wetter, and my climax gathered pace. My jaw tightened. I didn’t want to get there without her. Violet’s eyes widened, as if she were shocked that anything could feel this good, this big, this all-consuming. She clawed at my chest, her body clenching, her movements beneath me becoming jagged and desperate—her eyes watered as she gazed at me. She came beneath me—she was fucking beautiful. Finally I gave in to my orgasm, calling out her name, desperate for her to know everything I did was for her.

  I lifted myself up from where I’d collapsed on top of her, my heartbeat still clattering against my chest. I dropped a kiss on her lips.

  “I love you,” she said, her palms pressed against my chest. “The way I feel for you is . . .” She pulled her brows together. “Binary. Permanent. I’d never felt it before you. It’s as if what I feel has been specifically invented. Just for you.”

  I groaned at her words, so earnest and open. I would spend my whole life protecting this woman’s heart, doing everything I could to show her how much I loved her in everything I did. That was my job now—she was my priority, my future, my destiny. It was all her.

  Epilogue

  Violet

  Six Months Later

  “Bicontinental,” I repeated, slower this time, making exaggerated shapes with my mouth so hopefully my brother would catch on.

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Max replied, handing me the potato salad.

  I took it and put a spoonful on my plate before passing it to Alexander. “I thought you were the smart one? The King of Wall Street or some other such bullshit.” I rolled my eyes.

  “She just means she and Alex are going to be living between New York and London,” Scarlett added, putting down a huge bowl of mac and cheese in the center of the table before taking a seat. All of us were here tonight—one final dinner in Connecticut before Alexander and I headed back to London after nearly six months in New York. Alexander had extended his break from chambers until the end of the academic year. Then we’d planned to spend the summer and the next semester of my MBA degree at a university in London on an exchange program. Then I’d head back to New York with Alexander in January to finish school.

  “You as well?” Max asked. “Can’t any of the women in this family pick a side?”

  “I think it works. You get to appreciate the best of both worlds,” Ryder said.

  “Exactly,” Alexander said. “We squeeze more out of life this way.”

  I rested my hand on Knightley’s knee, still shocked by the way he’d embraced his teaching and a whole new way of life. He insisted it was entirely selfish on his part, because it meant he spent more time with me. I wasn’t going to argue—it worked for us.

  “Columbia has agreed to let me teach from January to April each year, then I’ll practice law from April for the rest of the year back in London. It forces a balance in my career,” Alexander said.

  “Where does that leave you, Violet?” Max asked.

  “Happy,” I replied. “After I graduate, I can take on assignments in London and New York and I’ll make it work.”

  “I’m proud of you,” my brother said. “And glad you went back to school.”

  “We need to write your brother a check.” Alexander nudged me. “For your fees.”

  Alexander had suggested a couple of times that he repay my brother the money I borrowed for tuition, but I’d always been good at changing the subject. Still, I couldn’t help but enjoy the way he said “we” and considered us a unit.

  “I’ll pay him back when I start earning,” I muttered, taking a forkful of cucumber in my mouth.

  “What’s mine is yours, Violet. Even if you have refused to use the cards I’ve had put in your name. There is no yours and mine. Only ours.” He twisted toward me and cupped my neck with his hand.

  I sighed. His touch hypnotized me.

  “It’s not like we can have separate bank accounts when we’re married,” he added.

  The noise and the chatter of the table stopped, and the whole room stared at us.

  “Do you have something you want to tell us?” My dad asked from the top of the table.

  “No, it’s just—”

  “Violet and I will be married,” Alexander said. “When she finally agrees.”

  It wasn’t that I’d disagreed exactly. I just hadn’t said yes to Knightley’s three hundred proposals.

  My dad looked at me. “You don’t want to marry him? You don’t have to, you know.”

  I laughed. My father didn’t give a crap that Alexander was sitting right beside me. “I do want to marry him, Dad. I just want to finish school first.”

  “Don’t let him push you into anything,” he warned.

  Alexander went to speak, but I patted his thigh to stop him. “He’s really not. I swear, Daddy, if I asked him, he’d fly up to the moon to straighten it out just to make me happy. I love him, and I really want to marry him. I just . . .”

  Why was finishing school so important to me? Maybe I felt the need to prove to myself that I could do it on my own. Whether or not we were married wouldn’t change anything between us. I was his forever, and I knew he felt the same way about me. I turned to Alexander. “I won’t be Mrs. Knightley, you know. I’ll still be Violet King.”

  He looked at me as if I’d gone bananas. “Of course you’ll still be Violet King. I wouldn’t expect you to change your name. I’m happy enough to be Alexander King if that’s what you want.”

  I snapped my head around at the choking sounds coming from my brother and father, and I began to giggle. “I don’t think that’s necessary. We have plenty of King men around here.”

  “I’m still Scarlett King,” my sister said.

  “And I’m still Harper Jayne.”

  “Is that what you were worried about?” he asked.

  “No. I’m not worried. I mean, of course I’m going to marry you.”

  His eyebrows shot up and his smile began to threaten the corners of his mouth. “But what?”

  “But nothing.” I shrugged. “I’m just not sure it means anything. I know how I feel about you, how you feel about me. Isn’t that all we need?”

  “I guess so. Having children when we’re not married won’t bother you?”

  “Kids?” Max barked. “Are you pregnant?”

  “No, but yes, we want kids together,” I snapped back at him. “We’re shari
ng the rest of our lives together. Of course we’ve talked about this stuff.”

  “I love your sister, Max, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy just as I see you do with Harper and the way Ryder does with Scarlett. I hope that’s clear to everyone.”

  “Good man,” my dad muttered.

  Darcy sighed. “So romantic.”

  “You next,” Scarlett said. “I know he’s out there for you.”

  Darcy shrugged. “I’ve lost hope.” She tipped back her drink.

  If I could find love, it would happen for Darcy, no doubt in my mind.

  “Everyone needs to understand, we’re just figuring out the logistics,” I said. “We’re in love, and married or single, in New York or London, with or without kids, we’ll be together forever.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Darcy squealed.

  “Welcome to the family,” Max said, raising his glass.

  I gazed up at Alexander, and he dropped a kiss on my lips.

  He was my Knightley in shining armor and our fairytale was as real as it got.

  Alexander

  Six Months Later

  I glanced up from where I was sitting, reading the paper. Violet came into the kitchen and looked around.

  “She did a really good job, don’t you think?”

  I shrugged. “If you like it, I’m happy.” We’d moved into our new townhouse on Chesterfield Hill in Mayfair and had it completely redecorated. Violet and I had both been too busy to be involved and had left the interior designer to make most of the decisions. The free time we had we liked to focus on each other and not wallpaper.

  “Are you packed?” she asked.

  I closed the paper and folded it, placing it on the work surface. “Packed and ready to go. The car should be here any moment.”

  “I’m so excited for Christmas in Connecticut. Everyone in my family goes all out with the decorations.”

  We were headed back to the US after spending the last six months in London. When I’d come back to chambers after Columbia, I’d found I was more able to walk away in the evenings and at the weekend. A connection had been snapped while I’d been in New York, and I was no longer pushing myself to do more and work harder. It was ironic that the quality of work I was getting now was far beyond what I could have expected before I’d adjusted my priorities. Lance had been right—introducing variety in my life had made me approach the law in a different way. I spotted issues earlier, worked more efficiently, was more creative in finding solutions. Even better than that, I was enjoying it more.

  I spun on my stool to face her. “We’re going to have to find a place in New York as well.”

  Violet slid her arm around my shoulders. “I know. But can we buy something new that doesn’t need decorating? I don’t want to live with the smell of paint any longer. And I want to travel. Get away.”

  “Where do you want to go?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Anywhere I’m with you. Maybe South Africa? Or Thailand. Is there any place you’d like to visit?”

  “When I was younger I wanted to go to Sri Lanka.” It was difficult to remember what came before the relentless decade I’d spent at the bar.

  She froze, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? I really want to go there. Let’s book it for the spring after Columbia?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Who would have thought that I’d be living and working on two continents, and travelling with the love of my life?

  She turned in my arms, her back to my front. “And we’ll have to think about a honeymoon at some point.”

  She held her hand out and glanced at the engagement ring we’d picked out last week.

  “You’re not having buyer’s remorse, are you?” The ring was unusual—three thin bands, all different styles, with a central diamond that looked more like a flower than a stone. It suited her perfectly—it was delicate, beautiful and precious.

  She laughed and I couldn’t help but smile at such a beautiful sound. I’d take it over a nightingale any day of the week. “Not likely. You’re worth marrying for a ring like this,” she said, still admiring it.

  I pulled her between my legs. “Good to know. Are you going to tell your family when we’re over there?”

  She grimaced. “Which bit?”

  “Any of it.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Maybe just as we’re leaving. I can say it really fast ‘Mom, Dad, Scarlett, Max, Alexander and I are getting married but we’re going to do it in London and there’s going to be twenty people, max.’”

  “I think they’ll be fine about it.” Violet’s family adored her, and from what I knew of them would be happy so long as she was happy. “They’re not going to force you to have a big wedding.”

  “And then I’ll tell them I have no intention of getting pregnant any time soon.” She shook her head. “It might just kill my mother.”

  “Your mother has plenty of grandchildren keeping her busy.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead and she smoothed her hands over my shoulders.

  “And you’re sure you don’t mind waiting for a few years?” she asked. “I just want to spend some time with you. I want to travel and start my business and then see where we are.”

  “I want to do all those things too. I’m not sure I’m ready to be responsible for a tiny human quite yet.”

  “I think you’d make an excellent father,” she said, tracing my eyebrow with her fingertip.

  I pulled her closer. “Let’s just take each day as it comes.”

  “Excuse me?” She pulled back. “Who are you and what have you done with my fiancé?”

  I chuckled. “I told you. You’ve changed me.”

  She tilted her head. “Maybe just brought you to the center a little more.”

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I’m still more of a planner than you.”

  “But I’m more of a planner than I was. You’ve changed me as well.”

  “We’ve met in the middle.”

  She bit back a smile. “Exactly. And I like where I’m standing.”

  “Me too.” I’d gone from knowing exactly how my life would be until I retired to looking forward to change. It had taken adjustment, but I was getting there. Being with Violet made everything worth it. She was the very center of my world. “As long as we’re side by side then everything else will fall into place.”

  Violet was the only woman in my life I’d ever fought for and I’d keep fighting, keep loving her, keep doing whatever it took to stay by her side for the rest of our lives.

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed The British Knight, keep reading for the next book The Earl of London.

  The Earl of London

  Published by Louise Bay 2018

  Copyright © 2018 Louise Bay. All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  ISBN – 978-1-910747-544

  Chapter One

  Logan

  I might call my lawyer. See if I could sue the so-called journalist who’d written the scathing piece about me in The London Times. I don’t know why I hadn’t left the newspaper in the office, put it through the shredder. Instead, I was torturing myself. Reading and rereading. This writer guy didn’t know me. He’d accused me of making money from destroying the lives and legacies of innocent people.

  It was bullshit. I never lied or cheated. I was good for my word. A straight shooter.

  “So, beautiful, what’s taking you so long?” I called out to the woman I’d met on a negotiation earlier in the week who was about to suck my cock and stop me thin
king about journalists trashing my reputation.

  Normally criticism bounced off me and I didn’t give it a second thought. There were always plenty of people trying to bring you down when you were on top, but I kept replaying the article in my head.

  It was as if it had been describing someone else. My father. Not me. The only thing that might dampen my anger and frustration was a powerful, confident, clever woman, who had almost outsmarted me in business, get on her knees and take my dick in her mouth.

  When I was younger I’d had my fair share of models and actresses, but they didn’t have the same appeal as a successful woman who liked to dominate in the boardroom, and beg me for their orgasm in the bedroom.

  I tipped back the last of the whiskey she’d left me with before she’d disappeared, shrugged off my jacket and slumped on the couch. The wall of floor-to-ceiling windows opposite the sofa was black, speckled with the lights of London’s still-busy streets. My reflection ghosted over the cityscape, which meant I’d get a good view of her head bobbing between my knees from two angles.

  Nice.

  “Just freshening up,” she said, striding back into the living room wearing just a black lace bra and knickers. And her six-inch heels.

  Very nice.

  This woman was my type to a tee. Tall. Cool. Sophisticated. A gym-honed body with tight muscles, golden skin and small, high breasts.

  “I could do with a little freshening up,” I said. “Come here.”

  She placed her palms on my thighs, bent over, then slid to her knees between my legs. I leaned my head back, ready to empty my mind of arsehole journalists and enjoy what was coming next. She could warm me up a little by sucking me off and then before things got out of hand, I’d stand, hold her head while I fucked her mouth deep, watching as her eyes watered as she gagged. Nothing better than a female hedge fund manager who oversaw assets of hundreds of millions of euros and was used to putting men in their place letting me do whatever I wanted to her.