by Nicole Snow
Growling, Silas runs his hands down my back. He stops at my ass, clasps my cheeks, and squeezes them hard.
“Fuck the gorgeous views, Princess. There's nobody around here for a few hundred kilometers. We can scale the volcano wearing nothing, if you'd like, as soon as I'm done fucking you raw.”
Yes. Please. My eyes say it all.
He grabs my wrist and leads me inside, kicking the door shut behind us. Inside, it's rustic, cozy as a lodge, just like I imagined. We wind our way through the old rooms to the master suite overlooking the lake. It's on the second floor, really just a giant loft with a bed, a few cabinets, a hot tub, and a lovely looking bathroom attached.
I stop when I see the bed. It's even bigger than the ones in the palace, with tall black pillars reaching up to the ceiling, lion heads carved in every post.
“Hmm. I see we'll have an audience,” I say, sticking my tongue out.
“I wasn't joking about the restraints, beautiful. You're going to need them to hold your legs open after you've come on my tongue ten times.”
“Silas...don't tease.” I can't tell when he's joking.
He sounds so deadly, excited, and serious. I'm going to find out how serious when he grabs me, pushes me onto the bed, and starts tearing away what's left of my wedding dress.
Our lips collide the whole time. I can't keep my mouth off his. I'm moaning, panting, begging for his touch.
He's swallowing everything I give him. All my breath, my love, my fire, pressing the massive erection in his trousers against my bare pussy. The teasing doesn't end when he pushes me to the center of the bed, dips over the bed, and reaches into one of the heavy oak drawers under it.
“Legs out. Before that pussy soaks the sheets straight through.” I surrender.
He takes my feet, one ankle at a time, and puts them in the leather loops. Each one goes to a pillar, stretching me wide open for his hands, his mouth, whatever he desires.
I'm losing it when he looks at me again. Silas presses his hand firmly against my pussy, but he doesn't slide his fingers in. He just teases my clit in slow, evil strokes while his lips press mine.
“Please – please!” I'm in heat, pleading, by the time he starts his trek down my body.
My back arches each time his mouth pulls at my nipples. He sucks them rough, plumping my breasts, grinding his thumb a little harder against my clit.
“No, Princess. Not yet. Got to make me believe you need it,” he growls, kissing down my belly, then across my right thigh. “Make me believe you need this mouth. Then I'll make you squirt so hard you're seeing stars.”
Oh, hell. Doesn't he know he's close to doing that without even putting his mouth between my legs?
I'm twitching. Moaning. Shifting my hips side to side, aching for his touch, just a few lashes of his tongue to give me sweet release.
His licks and kisses wrap around my thigh, circling ever closer.
Closer, closer. God, please, closer!
Every muscle I have quakes as he slowly, tauntingly moves to my wet center, replacing his hand across my mound with hot, feral breath.
“Did you think this Princess thing was easy?” he whispers, mischief whirling in his eyes. “Bet you didn't know it means giving this sweet cunt up to me anytime I want it, Erin. Any place. Any fucking way. You're about to forget that 'no sex' rule ever existed.”
Forget the rule? I barely remember my own name.
I'm about to explode. He pushes his face in just then, opening me with his tongue. Licking wild, sucking furious, taking my clit like he owns it, because he does.
Pleasure's coming, stealing me away.
Going. Going.
Gone.
My body tenses up and my legs shudder. The straps holding them open do their job, their tension adding an extra thrill to the orgasmic wave ripping through me.
My spine turns to flame. My hips pump, riding his face, over and over and over. I can't press the back of my head into the mattress anymore.
There's nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Nothing to do except scream, and let it wash over me.
This is a tongue fuck truly fit for a royal. Sheer, mind bending ecstasy in full control for the next five minutes.
His hands and mouth won't stop. Just when I'm coming down, they stoke my flames again, pushing me back to the edge.
He's licking me even faster this time. Even harder. My clit disappears into his mouth, throbbing against his tongue, and crackles like lightning again.
I'm coming so hard my vision goes red, then white. I see dark, fiery spaces in between.
Stars. Just like he promised.
Is nothing impossible for this man? The answer's probably no, because about ten seconds later, I feel a dam break somewhere mid-orgasm.
I'm coming again.
Coming!
Except, this time, there's a distinct heat. A wetness that soaks my entire pussy and leaks out of me onto the sheets, his face, everywhere I can feel it through the numbing ecstasy that's ignited my blood.
The bastard has me gushing. Another promise fulfilled, one that says my body will do anything for this man on command.
I don't realize I'm clutching the sheets, nearly ripping holes through them, until he moves away from my quivering legs.
Silas comes up wiping his face, his smile more sexy than ever. Of course, that also means more arrogant.
“Hope you liked your first wedding present, love,” he says, slowly taking down the restraints. “We'll get back to these later. But I want your legs wrapped all the way around me when we fuck. I want you to pull my dick so deep I don't see a drop of come slipping out when it's over.”
There's that heat again. Impossible, as it is incredible.
“You're the King,” I tell him.
“Not officially,” he says, slowly undoing his belt. “That won't happen until we're home, and I'm formally crowned. You'd better believe it doesn't matter in this bed. I'm fucking like a god, love. Like I own every single inch of you because we both know I do.”
I'm about to mouth off, try to deny it, when he drops his pants. That huge, magnificent cock coming into view always silences me.
It's a thing of awe. And it's about to be mine, as soon as it's inside me, pumping its way to a few more earthshaking climaxes.
He's completely naked, on top of me, dragging my legs up over his shoulders. Our eyes lock fierce while my chest rises and falls.
I want him more right now than any woman should. I want my Playboy Prince, my bastard, my husband.
I want to fuck him today, and then every day for the rest of my life.
“Oh, God,” I moan, just as he starts rubbing his swollen cock against my pussy. “Go, Silas. Please. Fuck me.”
“What's that, love? Didn't hear the magic word.”
He's going to make me say it. I try to hold out as long as I can, stroke by stroke. But when he starts to dip the very tip of his cock into me, pulling away before I get his fullness, I'm helpless.
I surrender, and then some.
“Please.” My eyes pinch shut as he gives me another inch. “Yes, fuck, please!”
My legs shake harder on his shoulders. He grabs them, holds them still, and gives me another feral look.
“I'm in a giving mood today. Must be that hot, tight married pussy wrapped around my cock.”
He thrusts deeper. Sweet heaven.
At last, Silas fucks me. It's a slow building storm, strengthening one stroke at a time, lifting me a little higher each time he pushes into me. His hips crash into mine each time he pulls back and glides forward.
“Harder,” I grunt, teasing him.
“Harder?” He pauses, grabs my nipples, and pinches them tight. “Like this?”
He almost pulls all the way out. Then he slams himself into me so hard my breasts shake in his hands. I'm moaning again, enraptured.
His wife.
His Princess.
His whore.
He's taken what I said like a challenge, and I'm in troubl
e now. The most decadent, tantalizing kind of trouble a woman can get herself into.
His cock slams into me so fast and hard I can feel his balls slapping my ass. Silas' hold on my legs tightens, and he's growling, fucking me over the edge.
“That's right, love. You'd better come for me again. I'm not giving it up until you're begging me to stop.”
Oh, shit. Hell!
I'm screaming. Clawing at his chest. My pussy pinches his cock so hard the stars return, beautiful as they are scary. Coming shouldn't feel this good.
My heart shouldn't throb this intensely for any man. But it does, and it will forever with my Prince.
Our fucking becomes hotter, so swift and fiery, it's blinding. I'm deep in my zone, locked when he reaches between my legs, thumbs my clit, and lets his hand go berserk while he power fucks me into the next century.
Coming! Yes, it's insane, but it's happening again.
Somehow, I hear him growling his words in between his thrusts, savage and forceful. He's whispering in my ear, driving deeper with every word, beating his balls against my ass.
“Knew I'd make you mine the second we made that deal, Princess. Fucking knew it. Good thing you love it.”
I do. And he isn't done.
His hips piston faster. I've barely recovered from the last orgasm before he starts on a new one, jackhammering his cock into me. It's bigger, hotter, and faster than ever before. My pussy tingles for his come, totally engulfed in flames, praying for the only thing that can put them out.
“Silas!”
He grabs my chin and pushes his lips on mine, holding my face. Crazy doesn't even describe what I'm feeling anymore.
“You think it's hot now? Just wait, love. I'll be making you sing when we're so old and gray they're printing us on the kingdom's money. I'm going to keep fucking you. Going to keep owning every beautiful piece of who you are. Going to put a baby in your belly soon, Erin. Then another, and another, and another...”
Oh...fuck! I grab him so hard I probably scratch his shoulders.
Neither of us care. Thinking about him planting his seed deep drives me over the edge.
My hips go wild, joining his in the frenzy, bucking back at his length as hard as I'm grunting. His cock drives deep, just to the edge of my womb, and swells.
Coming! Coming! This time together, fused together, twitching as one.
“Fuck!” Silas cries out, losing himself in me.
His cock heaves everything from his balls deep inside me, flooding me with his heat, his essence. My eyes roll back in my head. It's so intense I can't even breathe, let alone scream.
Time flies like mad. Soon, I'll be off the birth control, letting him own me in the most primal way a man can for real.
For now, this is great practice.
“Christ, I needed that. Every second of you, love,” he whispers, drowning me in tender kisses.
I'm still coming down from my climax. Very slowly, he softens, and then pulls out.
Laying on his chest, he holds me in his huge, tattooed arms. We're spent, at least for a few minutes, and it's marvelous.
“Did you really mean what you said about how you knew the first time?” I ask, letting my eyes feast on his perfect body. Every contour, every muscle, is smooth and strong as steel, like God himself reached down with a chisel and sculpted him for me.
“Don't think I'm allowed to wear the royal crest on my skin if I didn't believe in destiny.” He smiles, resting his forehead on mine. “Fate. There's something to it, after all.”
His smile is contagious. We kiss again, only breaking away when his hand gently cups my cheek.
“You're meant to be my Princess forever, babe. Mine, with more benefits than I dared imagine. Love you, Erin. Love you like nothing else in the world, like nothing any money or power will ever buy. Love you so fucking hard and real it's never changing. Never fading. Never going anywhere. Not in this lifetime, or the next.”
“Silas...I love you, too.” My heart flutters.
He's right about the benefits – more than he knows.
It's amazing where life takes a woman. I never thought I'd wind up married to a Prince, shaking off the best sex of my life, surrounded by a gorgeous kingdom I've just started to explore and understand.
Incredible as it is, it's nothing compared to how his words have changed, down to their very roots.
'Princess with benefits' used to make me want to slap the smugness off his face.
Now? It's the magic phrase that sends my lips to his like magnets.
We kiss. Long and sweet. Tender as our love itself.
This stopped being pretend a long time ago. It's real, and I'm proud to belong to my Prince with benefits forever.
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I: Look Who's Back (Maddie)
Something in his makeup made him an utter bastard, but I owed him my life.
It's my heart I refused to give up without a fight. If only I'd known from the very start Calvin Randolph never backs down.
Not in love. Not in business. Not in any corner of his battered existence.
I'll never understand it.
Maybe he's missing the gene that stops a normal man from sinking his hands into the earth and ripping it to messy, screaming shreds until he gets his way.
Perhaps defeat just never made sense in his head.
Or possibly it's because this was just meant to be. There's a natural mischief in every heart that loves bringing together what's complicated, dangerous, and totally incompatible in a blinding impact.
Oh, but I still wish I'd known, before our blind collision became love.
We would have prevented so much suffering.
I'm in no mood to pull a jet black envelope out of my mailbox. Not after an exhausting day dealing wit
h corporate legalese and a language barrier that's like a migraine prescription. Especially when said legalese is a hodge-podge of English and Mandarin bullet points outlining bewildering trade concepts that make me want to pop aspirin like Junior Mints.
But the coal colored envelope isn't what ends me. It's a single word, the one and only scrawled on the front in bright pink, without so much as a return address or a stamp to accompany it.
DOLL.
No one's called me that in years. Seven, to be precise.
I have to steady myself against the mailbox when my heartbeat goes into my ears. For a second I'm afraid I'll faint.
It's incredible how the only man who'd ever call me a name I haven't heard since high school still has a freakish ability to reduce me to a knee-shaking, cement lunged mess so many years later.
My fingernail slides across the seal, digs in, and splits it open. I tear gingerly, like I'm expecting a snake or a tarantula to jump out. There isn't enough room for creepy crawlies, I suppose, though I wonder about the hard lump in the corner, rubbing it against my palm.
The constant noise in the hall of my cramped Beijing flat has faded from a roar to a whisper. It's hard to focus on the slim white note I pluck out when I'm trying to remember how to breathe. There's no mistaking the handwriting.
They're his words. I'd recognize them anywhere, even after so long.
Blunt, mysterious, and taunting as ever. He keeps it short and sweet – assuming there's anything sweet about reaching down inside me, and yanking out a dozen painful memories at once.
It's been too long.
You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in.
Marry me.
-Cal
“Marry me?” I read it again, shaking my head.