Princely Passions: A Royal Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Masturbating to thoughts of him.

  Wait, I freeze. I only have one nipple clamp on. Where's the other one? I look around frantically. I can't seem to find it.

  "Looks like you had a good time last night as well," Derrick says, and I can just imagine a smirk on his face.

  Wait.

  Oh, no!

  Did the nipple clamp drop?

  Did it get pushed out the door?

  Derrick's outside the door when he says, "I'll just leave this little bugger next to your door, love. I'm sure you wouldn't want to lose it."

  Oh my God! Oh my God!

  He knows. He knows!

  I'm so embarrassed and scared that I fling myself onto the bed. I want to die right now. I want the earth to open wide so I can just go inside and hide.

  I hear Derrick's steps walk down the hallway. I have to get it back. I change into a sports bra, and put on some yoga pants and my running shoes from the stuff that Derrick’ men brought over.

  I need to get out of this condo and go for a nice long run.

  For like, maybe, forever.

  Never come back here again! I open the door and peek out. There's no one. I crouch down to retrieve the tiny nipple clamp.

  "Boo!"

  My heart literally stops as Derrick jumps out of the parlor across from my room.

  "Derrick! You ASSHOLE!" I yell at him. I'm shaking.

  Derrick's laughing uncontrollably. "Sorry, love. I'm so sorry," he says as he laughs. "It was just so fucking hilarious. I had to. I hope you forgive me, yeah?"

  I'm pissed off at this asshole and I can't believe he saved me yesterday. What an ass. That's it. I'm not going to respond.

  "So tell me, was it as good as Jake?" Derrick asks and I roll my eyes. "Are you still thinking of that wanker, love?"

  I ignore his off-English accent and head down the stairs. My cheeks are burning red. I open the door and start running away as quickly as possible.

  Instead of running in Central Park, I decide to run downtown and am just passing by the Lower East Side when my head starts to clear a little bit. I still can't believe Derrick! What a disgusting dirt bag asshole!

  But why is he so nice to me? And after he's nice, he turns around and starts acting like an asshole again!

  It's so confusing. I'm hoping another mile will clear my head.

  I need to clear my head.

  I mean, look, I've told you before. I’m in this to grab dirt on him. Bring him down.

  But a part of me wants to give that up and just have sex with him.

  Every. Single. Day.

  I shouldn't want to...I shouldn't do what I did last night.

  Well, let me rephrase that actually. I shouldn't do what I did, thinking of him. That's just wrong.

  He’s a sick man whore. Dirty. Lewd. Lascivious.

  I shouldn't focus on his muscles or his smile, or his smirk, or his eyes, or his huge...ego.

  I should just keep running.

  But I stop when I see a black SUV slowing down next to me. On one side I have some stores. I slow down a little bit as the car comes to a stop.

  Is it the Royal Security people? They’ve given me a wide berth since I moved in yesterday – and while I was cumming my brains out.

  But it's not. A person gets out, and the sun is in my eyes so it takes me a moment to tell, but eventually I make out that its Jake.

  "Well, look at what we have here," he says and I see only anger in his eyes, and all of a sudden I get uncomfortable.

  "Jake, what are you doing here?" I ask, rolling me eyes at his theatrics.

  "Alicia, look at my face," he says, not smiling. I look him. He’s blocking my way and advancing menacingly. Jake is no Derrick, but he’s still bigger than me. “This is how I get when I’ve been ignored for a week.”

  "What are you doing here?" I ask again.

  "What am I doing here? I'm here to find you," he says, grabbing my arm. My heart starts to race. What is he doing? He's my ex-boyfriend.

  "I’ve been calling you nonstop for the last week," he hisses at me, "You haven’t answered or called back at all."

  “You lost your privileges for me to answer your calls when you started cheating on me,” I answer back, grabbing my arm away.

  "You were never planning on having sex with me were you?" he asks me, seething. "I bet you were never going to give it up to me, ever. Well I didn’t date you to get nothing out of it, so I’m going to take what's mine and you’re going to like it, you stupid bitch."

  I try to pull away but Jake's too strong. I'm panicking. What are they going to do? Jake used to be my boyfriend! What's going on!

  “I wanted to wait until I was ready!” I yell at him.

  “Oh yeah?” he sneers. “So when I go to your apartment in the early morning and don’t see you, you’re ready now all of a sudden?”

  Oh my God. Jake destroyed my apartment!

  “You’ve been giving it up to someone else after kicking me out, slut?” he asks me with a sneer. “After all the time I put in, you’re spreading your legs for someone else? Fuck that, I’m taking what’s owed to me.”

  I recoil in fear. He looks at me and smirks. But not the infuriatingly cute smirk of Derrick. This is a cruel smirk, filled with malice and spite. His arm tightens around me and it hurts!

  "Don’t resist, or else say goodbye to that sexy body of yours, Alicia," Jake hisses at me. I look into his eyes and for the first time I see a deep reservoir of anger, poison and hate. How could I miss this side of him for so long?

  This is a deserted stretch of road. I wonder even if it's worth calling out for help.

  13

  Derrick

  You want to know where I was last night don't you? You want to know who His Royal Highness, with his 11-inch cock was fucking after he left the condo? It's in your head and you're trying to picture to yourself that slut that I was ravishing.

  I was with a Princess all right. Her name is Princess of the Sea.

  That's right. I went to the marina. To my fucking sailboat.

  I'm seriously going fucking mental sitting here, staring at Daphne. I'm buying her presents, for fuck's sake.

  But don't you fucking dare tell her where I've been off to, or we’ll have some fucking words. Now fuck off about why I sat there, looking at the stars, drinking scotch on my sailboat. Don't ever ask me about it again.

  Besides, I need to clear my fucking head of Daphne and that was the only place to do it. It wasn’t even a whole fucking day of us living in the same apartment and I can’t get the thought of peeling her tightly clinging sundress off her gorgeous body and licking those massive fucking tits of hers. Of squeezing that fucking gorgeous ass. Of bending her over and sticking my cock deep into her. And when she starts talking to me, telling me about that fucking ex-boyfriend of hers or just conversing with me? When I find out there’s a brain inside of her head? That’s when I finally lost it.

  I'm playing with fucking fire here – cavorting around with a stripper. We're looking at a scandal the size that's pretty much fucking incomprehensible.

  Seeing Daphne in those black yoga pants and blue sports bra this morning has got the blood rushing to my cock like nothing else. I consider going and taking a shower and doing something about it.

  But something catches my eye. Daphne, in her rush to avoid embarrassment, has forgotten to take her the panic key that Pressly gave her yesterday. A panic key is something that our security has given us. No matter where we are, as long as we're in the perimeter, anything happens, you push the panic alarm. Whether you tripped and fell, someone's trying to rob you, or you see a cat that's up in a tree, you push the panic alarm when you want security to come down.

  She should have never left it.

  Don't look at me like that. I'm not fucking chasing her. Besides, she couldn’t have gone far and knowing her, I’m betting she headed downtown than through the Park – she’s probably going to run by her fucking apartment to pick up some stuff.

  I shru
g to myself and grab the key, walking out the condo and into the elevator.

  Besides, what the fuck kind of host would I be if I let something happened to her?

  Which, considering her embarrassment, may already have happened.

  Besides, I'm grinning at the thought of seeing the most innocent stripper I’ve ever met blushing uncontrollably when she sees me again, after she got caught dropping her nipple clamp.

  I knew she'd love it.

  But seriously, Daphne must be fucking new to stripping or something. I’ve never seen a more wholesome and innocent woman in my life. A normal stripper, she’d be all over me right now – fucking shucking off her clothes and climbing on my cock before she even moved in. She’d be doing the nastiest things to me after I rescued that boy who fell off the boat.

  Daphne – it’s like she’s grown up around real princes and princesses.

  Fuck, she acts more royal than me.

  I'm on the bike, driving down 6th Avenue, looking at the sidewalk seeing if I can find her. Yeah, it's a fucking long shot. But my head is so fucking confused right now that the drive will do me good even if I don’t find her. Finding that nipple clamp this morning was intense. My cock stiffened so fucking fast I thought I was going to rip my boxer briefs.

  A mile in, I see something that causes me to stop.

  I see Daphne in the distance. And it looks like there's a black SUV that's pulled up on the side of the road. And a bloke that’s yelling and frothing at the fucking mouth and grabbing her by the arm and throat. There’s no one else on the sidewalk nearby and I see that fucker grab her and pulls her off into the side street.

  I pull out my phone and speed dial Pressly.

  "Pressly, tell Sam I need backup," I tell him. He's on his way. I hang up. He knows my coordinates from my panic key.

  I look over again and I freeze.

  Fuck me, if that bloke is the fucking Jake that Daphne was talking about then I’m going to kick the living shit out of him.

  I see him move over and take Daphne by the arm. She's trying to pull away but he slaps her on the face.

  That's fucking all I need. I'm not letting security handle this shit. I rev up my bike and head straight for him.

  That’s fucking it. He has no idea what he’s unleashed.

  I can hear her scream for help.

  Fuck my visa. I don’t care if I get fucking deported tomorrow by the DA. No one fucking touches Daphne like that. I push down on the gas. Hard.

  The man looks over as my motorcycle comes up, but I don't fucking stop. I'm going to run him over.

  He looks at me and, grabbing Daphne towards the SUV.

  “Get off of me, Jake!” Daphne yells and manages to take advantage of his distracted gaze towards me to free herself.

  So this is actually the fucking wanker Jake, is it? This wanker is in for a real fucking treat.

  I steer my bike right into him and he gets out of the way at the last second, but trips on my wheel and falls to the ground.

  I hop off the bike and make sure Daphne is okay now that he’s let go of her. She’s leaning against the wall. I make sure she’s all right and then turn back to the guy as he’s standing up. He's sneering at me.

  "So you like reclaiming your manhood by hurting women, huh?" I spit out.

  He doesn't say anything. He just pulls out a knife and waves it at me frantically.

  I smirk at him and rush over to him. He has no idea what happens when I grab him by the throat and punch him once in his gut.

  Jake is a fucking moron because he gets back up and sneers at me. “That the best you got?” he asks.

  He takes too long sneering and I bring my fist to his fucking nose.

  All of a sudden, there's blood everywhere as I kick him in the gut and he bowls over. I bring my knee and it connects with his skull. The man is about to collapse to the floor but I hold him up.

  I don't know what kind of game he was trying to pull here but it's not funny. He never gets a chance to do anything as I punch him in his face, right in the eyes, and he falls over on his back. That punch is so hard it makes me wince too. I hear the satisfying crunch that tells me I've done some damage. The man collapses to the ground and doesn't get up. So I do the only thing someone would do in this situation.

  I pick him up and hold him by the throat. I punch him again and he really goes limp in my arms. I think he’s completely unconscious. I knee him one last time and that's when I hear Sam’s sirens. I let him drop to the ground as Sam and two other security guys come over. They look over the body.

  Sam looks at me and I nod.

  "Why'd you bother calling us, Sire?" he asks.

  But I don't answer. I let his men place the three of them in restraints. They'll contact the local police - tell them about the trespassing and assault charges I intend to press.

  I look at Daphne. She's staring at me wide-eyed.

  "You forgot your panic button," I say and hold it up. Then I go over to her.

  "Are you okay?" I ask her.

  She's trembling. I hold her close to me and try to reassure her, “It’s okay."

  She looks up at me.

  "Derrick," she says, her voice scared. "Can you take me home?"

  "Sure, love," I tell her. "Let's go."

  She’s talking about my place. She’s calling it home.

  I get on my bike and motion for her to do the same.

  At first, she's a little unsure, but I give her my hand and she takes it, getting on.

  Fuck, she's going to need a helmet. I take my helmet off and hand it to her.

  "What about you?" she asks, her voice small.

  I'll chance going without a helmet for her.

  "I don't need a fucking helmet," I tell her. "I'm the fucking Prince."

  She's quiet.

  "Now, grab onto me," I instruct her.

  She reaches around and grabs my body. Her tiny hands hold onto my abs, as if she's holding on for dear life.

  Fuck me, her body is pressed up against me.

  I'm in fucking heaven. That's not just the fucking adrenaline talking, mate. I feel like I'm fucking on top of the world, going down the road towards the house on my motorcycle as Daphne is holding on behind me, pressing her hot little body up against me. I am so fucking hard right now, it's impossible.

  I need to get a hold of myself. I can't fucking keep thinking like this.

  She's supposed to be my ticket to stay in the fucking country. Not another heart I fucking break.

  Yeah, I know. I know. You're going to tell me I can fuck her and stay true to her. But I grew up with someone else, mate. Someone else I’m looking for. As perfect as she is, she’s no Alicia. If she ever knew how much I think about Alicia, she'd be disgusted and probably never talk to me again. That would be the end of it.

  She can't feel the same way about me like I feel about her. That's not who I am. Fuck, remember who you're talking to. I'm the fucking asshole, remember? I don't fall for girls. I don't get like this. I have fun with them. I treat them like princesses. And then we move on. We go our fucking separate ways.

  That's right. Don't you ever forget that either.

  The bike approaches One57 and I punch in the keypad on the gate to the parking garage, and drive through.

  Daphne's stopped trembling by the time I get to the elevator and I wait for her to get off the bike and walk through the doors of the elevator before I relax.

  I stare at her ass as she walks in.

  What? I just took some guy to near death because he slapped her. I can't stare at her ass just a little bit?

  She looks at me and smiles timidly before she walks in.

  Fuck me, she doesn’t realize that she reminds me so much of Alicia that it’s fucking uncanny. My heart’s still beating and I think back to the years after pushing her into the pond, where I tried to talk to Alicia. But I never had the courage. And then, as she grew older, and matured into a woman - how I gave up. How bad boy Prince Derrick was too fucking afraid to talk t
o the woman of his dreams. And now, how this beautiful woman Daphne saw all that rage and anger at losing Alicia through his own inaction come out.

  Christ, now she probably thinks in addition to everything else I've done, I'm a psycho too.

  Fuck my life.

  14

  Alicia

  I don't even know on what I should focus on as we head towards Derrick's apartment: the situation I was just in, or the way Derrick's hard rock abs feel under my fingers as I hold on to him.

  I'm still shaking, my mind unable to let go of the hardness in Jake's eyes. How the hell did I ever feel something for someone like him? He's a monster! To think that he was ready to... I don't even know what he wanted to do with me! I'm just glad Derrick showed up when he did, like a true knight in shining armor. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't showed up.

  I know Derrick told me to have my panic button with me at all times... But, somehow, I never actually thought I would end up needing to use it. I guess I was just so embarrassed by the nipple clamp I wanted to get away, and I forgot about it and left it behind. Of course, the Universe then found it funny to throw me in a situation where I would need it badly. In a way, though, I'm glad I forgot about it – being saved by Derrick is way better than being rescued by his nameless security staff.

  I hold onto him tightly, my arms around his waist as we roar down 6th Avenue, the bike cruising easily through the traffic. Soon enough we're parking on One57's parking garage – which, by the way, looks more like a luxurious sports car stand than a true garage – and I start to breathe easier.

  He guides me towards the elevator and, as I enter it, I feel my whole body relaxing, the adrenaline that coursed through me starting to fade. Within moments we’re in his apartment. I look at Derrick, a meek smile on my lips. What do you even say to a man that might have just saved your life? And to think that the reason I'm with him is to ruin him...

  “Thank you,” I mutter, looking down at my hands.