Iron Princess (Iron Palace Book 2)

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Iron Princess (Iron Palace Book 2) Page 24

by Lisa Ferrari


  “Um…. Oh, Disneyland!” Kellan finally blurts out.

  I sit up. “Disneyland?”

  “Yeah. We can stay here, like you said. We’ve got the suite for as long as we want it. Or, I was thinking that maybe we take a little drive and head up to Anaheim and spend a couple nights there.”

  “That’s where Disneyland is?”

  “Correct.”

  “I’ve never been there.”

  “What?”

  “I said I’ve never been there.”

  “You’ve never been to Disneyland? It’s only the happiest place on earth. That’s their actual slogan, by the way. You’ve really never been? Not even when you were little?”

  “No, not even then.”

  “Well, jeeze Louise. That’s practically un-American. That’s it. We’re going. Get up. Get dressed. I’ll make a hotel reservation while you get ready. We can be there in a couple hours. We’ll have all of this afternoon and tonight, all day tomorrow, tomorrow night, and we can take our time heading home Wednesday in your new car. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great. What about our morning cardio?”

  “Don’t worry about it for today. We’re going to walk ten miles today at Disneyland and probably another ten tomorrow. We can skip the training so we’ll have energy to enjoy being there.”

  “Should we skip this?” I increase the rate at which I’ve been absently stroking him.

  Kellan moans and flexes his muscles and grits his teeth. “Uh…”

  I take matters into my own hands. As if they weren’t already. I scoot off the bed and kneel between Kellan’s knees so I can resume pleasuring him. It occurs to me suddenly to see how quickly I can make him come. Again. That should blow his mind.

  I resume sliding my mouth up and down his erection, pushing the tip into my throat as much as I can each time. I stroke him at the same time, squeezing and pulling with my fist, squeezing and pulling pretty hard, too, using my saliva as lubricant.

  Kellan leans back on his hands, watching me.

  Part of me is embarrassed, but part of me revels in it and feels powerful. He’s watching me.

  I start moaning. At first it’s for show but I soon realize I’m getting really horny again myself. I reach between my legs and find that I’m quite wet. I gather some of my own lubrication, reach up, and push my fingers into Kellan’s mouth.

  He sucks them clean. With fervency.

  I go back to touching myself while I fellate Kellan. I almost need two hands to stroke his entire erect penis, but for now I use only one hand.

  When I come up for air, Kellan is watching, mouth open, eyes fixed on me. He’s big, too. Really big. I marvel at how this thing fits inside me.

  “Come in my mouth,” I command, and I resume.

  I suck as hard as I can, trying to make a suction, especially on the head, while I work the shaft up and down rapidly.

  Kellan gasps and growls, breathing through gritted teeth. “Oh, God, Claire… you’re going to make me come… Yes… AH!”

  He erupts in my mouth. Hot semen shoots into the back of my throat and onto the roof of my mouth, coating my tongue. I swallow it as fast as it shoots out.

  Somewhere down there, I’m touching myself and I come, too. I do my best to finish him off as my orgasm nearly incapacitates me.

  Kellan exhales loudly and flops backward onto the bed, gasping.

  I bounce up, give him a quick kiss, say, “Yummy!”, because it is, and hurry into the bathroom to shower. I hope my expedient departure leaves him smiling.

  The hot water feels so good. I’m so happy and I feel so relaxed. I lose track of time luxuriating in the shower. Plus it’s so beautiful and elegant. It reminds me of the marble and tiled shower in Kellan’s house.

  Kellan pokes his head in at some point that feels like a good twenty minutes later.

  He asks if I’m doing okay. I say yes.

  He kisses me and departs.

  I get out, dry off and dress, and attempt to wrangle my hair into a convertible-proof style. I scavenge through my make-up bag and purse for every last bobby pin and clip I can find, but finally I think I have it.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Kellan is finishing his packing.

  “Wow,” Kellan says.

  “Wow, what?”

  “Wow you look gorgeous. As always.”

  “Morning sex agrees with me.”

  “I’ll say.”

  WE DECIDE TO get on the road as quickly as possible. Kellan is so excited for me to see Disneyland. It’s adorable.

  We’re downstairs making our way to the front desk when he says, “Man, I’m hungry. I knew we should’ve ordered room service. Are you hungry?”

  “I already had breakfast.”

  Kellan’s head whips toward me. His eyes are wide. He’s smiling a shocked but pleased smile.

  He grabs me and kisses me.

  There, in the middle of the hotel lobby.

  With tongue.

  And I love it.

  I don’t care who’s watching. I hope Brandi or Mandy or Candy or whatever her name was happens by and sees me there with Kellan’s tongue down my throat, loving me.

  Kellan breaks the kiss and looks around.

  “Come here.” He takes my hand and leads me to a bathroom. He elbows the door open and pops his head in. “Okay, it’s empty.” He drags me inside and into a stall at the far end.

  “What about our bags?” I ask.

  “They’ll be fine.”

  Kellan hurriedly, but quite adeptly, unbuttons and unzips my jeans and pushes them down to my knees. Then he scoops me up and presses me against the wall, with my thighs pressed against my chest and my feet out to the side.

  I feel him plunge inside me.

  It takes my breath away.

  How he took himself out of his own jeans and how he got hard so quickly is beyond me.

  Then his tongue is in my mouth again and he’s pounding me while both hands cradle my bare butt.

  Oddly, we manage to be very quiet. I wonder if the door will open, if someone will come in to pee or poop. What if some guy takes a giant, disgusting morning dump in the stall right next to ours?

  Claire, focus.

  I come back to my body, saying to hell with my fears.

  “I wanted to do this before you took your shower,” Kellan whispers into my mouth.

  God, he’s so deep. He’s really giving it to me.

  How can he have so much stamina?

  “Come on my cock, Claire,” he whispers. “I want you to come this time.”

  “I already came upstairs.”

  “Come again.”

  I want to tell him that I don’t know if I can. But he bites my chin and holds onto me with his nice white teeth, like an animal. A male lion bites the neck of the female lion when he mounts her. They mate upwards of eighty times over two or three days.

  Kellan and I are on track for a similar performance.

  I want to come for him. And for me. But we’re in a men’s restroom. Don’t people get arrested for stuff like this?

  One of Kellan’s fingers finds my anus. It swirls around, gathers some wetness that must have dripped down, and slides in. Kellan gently pushes his finger in while he makes love to me.

  It takes about forty-five seconds for the added stimulus and the extra excitement to get me off.

  I shiver and shudder and shake. The orgasm is a powerful one. I want to extend my legs and straighten out my entire body, but Kellan has me pinned. So I quiver and gasp and thrash my head about, even banging the back of my head against the wall several times as I scream silently in ecstasy.

  Kellen comes inside me.

  He stills, pushing deeper and deeper, flexing and pumping in short thrusts, and everything gets hot inside.

  We look at one another.

  He smiles.

  I smile.

  He kisses me.

  The bathroom door opens.

  “Oh fu—,” I start to say, but Kellan presses his lips a
gainst mine, silencing me.

  We don’t move.

  Shoes move around the bathroom. Dress shoes, it sounds like, kinda clicky on the hard floor.

  A stall door opens. Not the one next to ours, thank God.

  The door bangs shut, the silver slider lock mechanism slams into place, and the telltale sound of a toilet seat cover being yanked from the cardboard dispenser box echoes in the bathroom.

  I’ve never seen such amusement and feigned alarm on Kellan’s face.

  He whispers in my ear. “I’m going to put you down. Get dressed and walk out like it’s the ladies’ room.”

  He sets me on the floor and we quickly button up.

  I walk out, calm as can be. Our bags are on the red carpet beside the door, where we left them.

  “That’s the men’s room.”

  A man in slacks and a sport coat is looking at me. He’s just seen my exit.

  I pretend to be surprised. I do a double-take at the writing on the door.

  “Huh! You’re right. Oops!”

  The man chuckles and enters the men’s room. Kellan comes out a moment later.

  “Did that guy see you?” he asks.

  “Totally.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said ‘Oops!’”

  Kellan laughs and kisses me.

  I feel so dangerous. So alive!

  Kellan grabs our bags and leads me to the front desk, where we check out. I’m trying not to laugh. I think Kellan is, too.

  Once we get out to the parking lot, we both lose it, laughing and shouting because of what just happened.

  Kellan grabs me and hugs me and kisses me again, and eventually we find our car. Kellan shows me how to put the top down, because I’ve never actually done it. We toss our bags in, and we’re on our way.

  THE GPS ON Kellan’s phone guides us to the Magic Kingdom. The weather is perfect, sunny but cool. Kellan says November in L.A. is always beautiful. And the little red Solstice convertible is so much fun to drive. I am repeatedly amazed by its power and by how easy it is to pass on the freeway. My Toyota doesn’t do that; I always have to plan 30 seconds in advance. And the little red car is so zippy, so easy to drive. I feel good in it. I don’t think I could handle Kellan’s Huracan or the Mister Beaumont as a daily driver. But I love my new car. And I’m touched by Kellan’s thoughtfulness. He really found the perfect car for me.

  My vagina is sore from all the lovemaking. Several times I consider mentioning it, but I don’t want Kellan to feel bad, or to feel as though he can’t jump my bones any time he likes.

  So I focus on the drive. On our conversation.

  And the wind noise is not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. We can actually talk while we drive. Kellan squirms around quite a bit, pulling on the front of his jeans a bunch of times.

  When I finally ask him what he’s doing, because maybe he’s getting an erection, or maybe he needs to find a restroom, he says his penis hurts. But that he didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want me to feel bad.

  I tell him my vagina hurts, too, but I didn’t want to say anything, either, because I didn’t want him to feel bad.

  We laugh. Kellan grabs my hand and kisses the back of it.

  WE ARRIVE AT The Disneyland Hotel.

  Holy mouse ears. It’s gorgeous.

  A big, modern hotel with three large buildings that twinkle as if they’re made of blue glass. We drive under a big portico. Kellan hands me a hundred-dollar bill.

  “What’s this for?”

  “The valet.”

  “Seriously?”

  Kellan nods. “I want him to take good care of your car.”

  When the valet opens my door for me and hands me a ticket, I hand him the money. His eyes widen for a moment before he regains his composure and thanks me.

  Kellan and I grab our bags and head into the lobby.

  We’re greeted by an array of Disney characters: Minnie and Donald, and, inside the lobby, Kellan shakes hands with Goofy. Goofy squeezes Kellan’s arm in dramatic fashion.

  We make our way to the front desk and check in. Kellan booked us into a one-bedroom suite with a king bed. He apologizes that all the signature suites were already booked. So sweet. As if such an apology were necessary.

  When we get into the suite, I am equally impressed. Especially by the view. Kellan explains that he’s never stayed in this hotel so he had to choose based on their website. But he liked the view from this room the best. I can see why. We’re looking down into a big open-air mall called Downtown Disney. Beyond it to the north Kellan points out the main attractions, Matterhorn Mountain, Space Mountain, Thunder Mountain Railroad, and of course the spires of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.

  To the south we can see a huge Ferris wheel with Mickey’s face in the center, and a big white roller coaster that looks promising.

  The suite is big and ornate and elaborate but also very cozy. The bedroom is gorgeous with a huge wooden four-poster bed. Wow. What we could do in that bed. I have half a mind to throw Kellan down onto it and see how many ways I can make his eyes roll back in his head. Except that my vagina hurts.

  Kellan sees me eyeing the bed. “It’s a good thing we’ve been like rabbits the past few days because by the time we get back into our room tonight, we’ll be too tired to have sex.”

  I find this hard to believe.

  I hear a deep, grumbly, gurgling sound. “What was that?”

  “My stomach.”

  “Hungry?”

  Kellan comes over and stands behind me and smacks both sides of my butt with his big hands and squeezes. “Very. But we should probably go find some real food.”

  We each ate a Signature Protein bar in the car on the way here. Which is to say we took turns feeding each other bites of our own bars.

  But Kellan is right; I’m hungry too.

  And the park is beckoning.

  WE ENJOY A big breakfast downstairs at the buffet in Goofy’s Kitchen, during which four different Disney characters visit our table holding cell phones they use to take selfies with Kellan (he puts his arm around me every time, pulling me into the photo).

  We then make our way to Downtown Disney, the big open-air mall. I want to see everything but Kellan says we’ll come back here to explore later, and maybe have dinner inside The Rainforest Café.

  I’m mesmerized as a train glides almost silently above our heads. It’s shiny and red and pointed at both ends. Wow.

  Kellan says it’s the monorail. He says we’ll ride it later. For now, he wants me to get the full Disney entry experience. So we walk, somewhat quickly and with purpose, through Downtown Disney, marveling at the stores and restaurants and architecture.

  We make a quick pit stop, ducking into Starbucks to grab some coffees. It’s the neatest Starbucks I’ve ever seen, with a wooden floor and black walls and a high ceiling. Very classy.

  Armed with liquid energy, we make our way through the entrance to the park. The flowers are so beautiful; the landscaping is gorgeous. There’s an actual steam engine and a train. Kellan points out a bronzed plaque fixed to the entrance overhead.

  It reads:

  Here you leave today and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.

  I love that.

  Kellan guides me down Main Street and I’m treated to a magnificent view of the castle in the distance.

  Wow.

  Better than wow.

  I feel like a little girl again.

  Kellan and I walk hand in hand toward the castle. I very much feel like a princess.

  “You know,” Kellan says, sipping his coffee, “getting married at the Del would be awesome, but they do weddings here, too.”

  “Here? In the castle?”

  “No, I think they have a special place where they do it. But you can have a horse and carriage just like Cinderella.”

  And my head explodes.

  But I try not to show it. I sip my coffee.

  “That might be… fun.”


  “Fun?” Kellan asks. “Okay. We’ll keep it in mind.”

  And Kellan proceeds to escort me on a grand tour of the happiest place on earth.

  We ride everything.

  And then we ride everything again.

  The entire park is festooned in fall accoutrements, with pumpkins and scarecrows and such. All the cast members are so nice. And every time we get on a ride, Kellan explains how it’s my first time and they are always so excited. Half the time, we ask to sit in the front; the other half of the time, they insist we sit in the front.

  Kellan tells me all about how he loves the Matterhorn mountain, and how it was an icon in his little-boy brain. But he also loves futuristic stuff, so he loves Tomorrowland. Yet he simply adores New Orleans square, the Haunted Mansion, and the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.

  And I can see why.

  They’re astounding in their absolutism. I struggle to articulate to Kellan, and to myself for that matter, how impressed I am. Immersion into an alternate reality comes close. The second time we’re sitting in the big black clamshell-car-thing on the Haunted Mansion, an idea occurs to me, and I tell Kellan. “Imagine if you smoked some weed or did some mushrooms or LSD and came to Disneyland. What would that be like?”

  “Weed would probably be really cool. Shrooms and acid, no way, not me. I wouldn’t ever do anything that hard, anyway, just because they’re so unpredictable. And LSD can allegedly permanently alter your brain chemistry. So screw that. But smoking a bowl and then exploring the Magic Kingdom would certainly enhance the level of magic.”

  For dinner we eat in The Blue Bayou, a Cajun restaurant located inside the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction. We actually sit by the water and watch the boats pass by while we listen to the sounds of crickets and bullfrogs and a bunch of other stuff I don’t even know about because I’ve never actually visited anyplace like this.

  Later, after we’ve ridden It’s a Small World for the fifth time, we find a spot in front of the castle where we have a perfect view of the nightly fireworks spectacular.

  And what a spectacle it is.

  It’s November; Fourth of July was more than four months ago. But they certainly put on a great show. There’s a musical accompaniment as well.

  Kellan stands behind me with his arms around me the entire time we’re gazing up into the night sky.

 

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