Royal Affair (Last Royals Book 2)

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Royal Affair (Last Royals Book 2) Page 19

by Cristiane Serruya


  The passion in his heated gaze turned her on more. He appeared a little wild, ruggedly handsome, and his parted lips and soft pants did wonderful things to her.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He rose to his knees on the bed, releasing her, but reached for her again quickly as if he couldn’t stand not touching her.

  Angelica allowed him to pull her up to her knees and rid her of the destroyed nightshirt, just throwing it aside.

  They looked at each other hungrily and attacked each other with their hands and lips, exploring every inch of exposed flesh.

  Angelica loved the sight of his rough hands moving over her soft skin, huge hands enveloping her, controlling her, owning her. He was wild and savage and passionate, and it drove her crazy with passion. They rolled about on the bed, pleasuring each other with their fingers and mouths.

  She fell down his body, her hair rippling along with her, as she took his thick erection in her mouth and felt him tense underneath her. She moved forward and one of her hands curled around Ludwig’s cock. She heard him suck in air. He was hard and hot all right. His skin was velvety soft wrapped over steel-hard thickness. She let her fingers and palm explore him.

  “That feels so good,” he groaned, his breathing increasing.

  She enjoyed touching him. He turned her on. She bit her lip and curled her other hand at the base of his cock.

  He shifted his legs, trying to open them wider for her to explore him. He softly cursed when his pants bunched at his thighs and wouldn’t allow it.

  “Fucking good, Liebchen.”

  She gripped his shaft more firmly, moving her hand against the crown of his cock to trace the rim.

  “Angelica, stop,” he groaned.

  He moved away, shoved his pants and underwear down his long legs to his ankles, and stepping away from them, he lunged for her.

  Angelica gasped when he grabbed her and lifted her, turning her body in his strong arms just by lifting her until she faced away from him and her back pressed against his chest.

  “What are you doing?” Excitement and a little fear merged but she wasn’t protesting.

  “Put your legs between mine,” he growled in a rough tone, spreading his bare thighs apart to make room for her.

  Angelica twisted her head. “Why?”

  “Do it,” he rasped. His hands skimmed down over her breasts, before his mouth nibbled at her neck. His lips, tongue, and teeth teased and taunted the sensitive skin. “Now.”

  Angelica moaned when his teeth bit down, the pinch of his bite feeling incredibly erotic.

  His tongue stroked the skin trapped between his teeth before he moved to other spots on her neck, lightly teasing her with soft nips. His hands slid lower to pause at the curve of her hips, giving her a warning squeeze. “Angelica.”

  Obediently, she shifted and fit both of her legs between his.

  One of his hands left her hip and his other hand slid to the front of her body. She tensed, her breathing increased, as he tore her panties with a firm snap.

  His chest pressed against her back as he lowered his head until his breath fanned her ear.

  “I’m going to sink so deep into your pussy you will scream,” he growled. “Do you want that?”

  “Sí.” Angelica’s breathing was shaky. “Sí.”

  “Bend over for me.” He made another growling noise as she lowered herself on the bed. One of his hands slid up, gripped her hip in a gentle squeeze, and he slammed inside her without any warning.

  She was so wet that he slid in without effort.

  “Cristo.” She moaned at the delicious feel of him inside her, all hard and swollen and thick, filling up every part of her. Her eyes fluttered open and through her blurred vision she could see him pounding away at her, his face twisted with tense and terse desire, his muscles tight like elastic, threatening to snap at any moment.

  He placed one hand over her neck, holding her down. “I love you’re so tight that you fist my dick.”

  “Oh, sí. Ludwig!” she cried out his name, not caring who heard because she was having the best sex of her life with this wild man and loving every second of it. “Give me more.”

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he grunted.

  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the pleasure swam through her body, orgasm flowing into orgasm, an endless stream of delight, and then, just when her body was drained and she thought that he was ready to come, he flipped her on her back, pulled a leg up and plunged into her again.

  The fury of his body slammed into her over and over again, as he watched her with those electric blue eyes.

  Cupping his face, she brought his head down, kissing him, enjoying the blistering pleasure building up again, rolling through her.

  “Sí, right there.” Before long, she was lost to a hazy place where every sense was heightened, and the bliss was even more intense than it usually was. “Right there.”

  Fire raced through his bloodstream. He came hard, feeling it from head to toe, every last thrust overwhelming him until the final scream of ecstasy when his body jerked violently, and he groaned long and loud, “Angelica.” Mine.

  She was his. And then, with his crisis upon him, he knew the truth. No. He was hers.

  The depth of his emotions took him by surprise. Even as he tensed on the inside, he couldn’t make his body stop moving, the last few pulses of his cock throbbing.

  Only worry that he would hurt her had kept him from collapsing over her with the sheer force of his orgasm.

  He’d never experienced anything like it, the pleasure so strong he’d shattered, and he had no idea where to start looking for all his scattered pieces.

  As he rolled away from her and put an arm over his eyes, he realized he might need a piece of Angelica to complete the puzzle of his own self.

  29

  Americo sat with his boots kicked up on the wooden surface of a desktop, a smile on his lips.

  The monitor in front of him now displayed an image of a pathetically lovesick Grand-Duke cuddling a cold—but not at all frigid—princess, after having acted like a starving mongrel at a butcher’s cart.

  “That was funny to watch.” Aguilar massaged his shoulders. “Now, come to bed. I also need some R&R before we discuss what we are going to do with him.”

  “And Abelardo?” Americo asked, as he followed Aguilar to the bedroom. “It’s clear that he does not have a chance with the feisty royal bitch.”

  “Well, we cannot say he didn’t have his merits. I have no idea how he managed to put all these cameras up.”

  “He didn’t,” Americo said, toeing off his boots and pulling his shirt off. “It was Celipa. Though he provided enough diversion for her to come in and not be noticed.”

  “Ah.” Aguilar shrugged and the vest fell to the floor. “Well, you keep an eye on him.”

  Ludwig mentally kicked himself as he walked down the street to the museum opening. He was not very comfortable in the position of the secret male-mistress. He felt, if the humiliating truth be told, like a starving beggar boy with his nose pressed to the window of a pastry shop as he left her rooms in the early morning hours.

  As much as he realized Angelica needed time and space and that the political situation in Aragon was not propitious for him wooing and dating their princess, for the first time in his existence, Ludwig didn’t want to offer her time, nor space. Unlike with Diana, the thought of settling down with Angelica warmed him. It lit a fire in his soul he had no will nor want to put out.

  Somehow, he was going to let her know that. He knew she was supposed to be at the museum. He just hoped that at some point, he would be allowed to have a private word with her. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He just knew he needed to get through to her.

  The sun was high and the air was warm. There were several people out in the streets, most in good moods. He didn’t understand what it was about royalty, but people always got giddy when they were about to see a king or a queen or a princess. He sincerely did no
t believe that the Aragonese people would ever vote their royalty out of power. They may vote for a different type of government—one that worked beside the royalty, but he doubted they would allow their king to completely disappear. Judging by the looks on the faces of those around him, they adored him and his sister.

  But in front of the museum, isolated to one side, there were, however, protesters, marching and brandishing plaques: Make Monarchy History; Republic Now.

  He saw the King’s procession round the corner. People stepped off the street and onto the sidewalk as directed by the police.

  An ambulance invaded the street at the same time a woman climbed over the line of policemen which was isolating the protesters and broke into a run, waving her arms and shouting something that was lost in the wailing of the siren.

  Another man followed and on his plaque was all Ludwig needed to see: Axe the royals.

  With his heart hammering in his chest, he sprinted toward the royal limousine.

  Angelica realized Valantín was in a dark mood that morning. When he was broody, it was best to leave him to himself and allow him to find his own way out. Sooner or later, he would let her know what was on his mind.

  As a natural introvert, he tended to keep to himself and they were on their way to the grand opening of a local museum. It had sustained fire damage a few months prior and a great deal of effort had gone into restoring it, and into maintaining the history and culture of Aragon. They might be a small nation, but they were a proud one.

  “You went out with Ludwig last night.”

  And sooner came right now. “It was just dinner.”

  She was very glad that he respected her boundaries and her wishes. She wasn’t going to deny that. But a tiny part of her wished that Ludwig had pushed a little harder the night before and insisted on staying with her until the morning; maybe even insisting that she be open about their affair.

  That tiny part that wanted so desperately to believe in romance cried a little when he had disengaged himself from her embrace, dressed, and left by the tunnels, leaving her all alone.

  And that ugly part of her that still did not believe she was good enough to entice any man in a long, steady relationship reared its head.

  “And if anyone had seen?”

  “Then I would have come up with a story to tell.” She could handle almost any kind of scandal. Almost. “And a true story at that. He is a prominent businessman, partner to the husband of our sister, and he’s arranged for funding to help us with the hospital renovation. There is also a great deal he can advise about.”

  The dark look he gave her said he did not believe her words. “Is the money for real—no strings, or tit-for-tat?”

  “It’s one hundred percent real. It’s from Angus and Siobhan.”

  “That’s great news, and we could really use it. But still. Going out with him in public. I hope you were discreet.”

  “Of course I was.” Before Abelardo, he never would have asked those questions. But afterward? It was as if he no longer trusted her, which only reinforced the idea that she was to blame in all of it. Somehow, she had made Abelardo wish to run away rather than to meet her at the altar.

  Valantín grunted in response.

  “This opening will be a good thing for the people. They need a morale booster.”

  “And you think that re-opening a museum will do that?” His expression stated he did not agree.

  She turned her attention out the window of the limousine. They were in downtown now, people lined the streets waving and she responded. They needed something—something to show the middle class that the royal family really did care. “Did you see the finalized report on the hospital?”

  “I did.” He tapped his fingers on his knee. “It has been signed and processed. And with the extra funding, there’s nothing holding us back.”

  “Good.” Her reality was a simple one: her life was too full of responsibilities.

  “About Ludwig.” Valantín wasn’t letting it go. “How serious are you with him?”

  She didn’t quite understand what he was asking. “You know he is not the type of man that will settle down gracefully.” Which was the kind of man she needed to acquire. She needed a man who would make her people feel confident about their government.

  Valantín’s expression softened. “I want you to understand that I am only concerned for you. You can marry any man you want. I’ll not stand in the way. I only want to ensure that you are happy.”

  This was the side of her brother few got to see. Most people only saw his mood swings. Most thought that he was unapproachable. Beneath all of the bluster was a man who cared about his small circle of friends. She knew he lacked the freedom to marry anyone he chose. She only hoped that whoever captured her brother’s attention was worthy of him.

  “I’m told he is very charming.”

  “Quite.” As he was also charming when he was working or thinking about a project he was passionate about. She found her heart leaping as she recalled the soft smile on his face when he told her of his reconstruction efforts. She had to be careful about that. She could feel her heart go soft toward him and that was something she could not afford.

  “And quite experienced in bed.”

  “Look, Valantín, I’m having an affair with Ludwig.” That, however, wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have with her big brother and before he could recover from the shock, she added, “I am not saying that because I want—or need—your approval but because I think you need to know the truth, since you are not only my brother, but also my king. But that’s all I’ll tell you.”

  He gave her a dark look and turned his back to her, waving at the people on his side of the street.

  As they got closer to the museum, she noticed the waving and cheering diminished and was substituted by protesters waving plates with words of order.   “I am worried about the DFAM. Do we know who is behind them?”

  “This new political movement’s supporters remain in the shadows. Their political faces are nothing more than puppets, the bastards,” hissed Valantín in reply.

  That was what frightened her the most. In her few parliamentary conversations with Josep Baldovinos, the only thing she could really tell for certain was that she was speaking to the wrong person.

  “Chief Bandres has Roger looking into it. I have no doubt he will come up with something.” Roger Alcolea, an American-Aragonese, doubled as their head of security and secretary to the head of Guardia Civil counter-intelligence, Ilda Bandres, since Aragon was working with a shortage of people. “That’s strange…”

  The comment made Angelica turn to see what Valantín was talking about. Shouts started coming from behind them, and when she turned to look, there was an ambulance coming from seemingly out of nowhere.

  “Get down!” Valantín threw himself over her.

  30

  Shockwaves blasted, destroying buildings and cars and throwing people several feet away.

  The explosion rocked the limousine, the armored exterior held but spider-web-like cracks appeared in the thick windows.

  “Are you okay?”

  Angelica nodded, but to be truthful she was in pain. It felt as if she had been punched hard in the back of the head with a big fist. “Sí, I guess so.”

  The glass partition lowered and Roger’s face appeared. “We need to get you to safety, Your Majesty.”

  Outside, chaos ensued as people began to seek shelter. Security vehicles blockaded the royal limousine with a ring of cars.

  “Cristo. People are hurt!”

  Angelica went for the door handle, but Valantín grabbed her arm. “You’re not planning to do something stupid, right?”

  Fury had settled over his features but that didn’t deter Angelica from saying her thoughts. “If we think that it is okay for our people to be out there, then it is okay for us to be out there.”

  Angelica understood that the situation was dire. She knew that she might not be safe if she stepped out the door. But she also
knew that there were people hurt and she could help.

  “It’s not okay for anyone to be out there right now. The area is being evacuated.”

  “Precisely. I’m uninjured and I’ve been trained for emergency situations. I know how to do the basics.” She looked pointedly at her brother’s hand around her wrist. “I am not useless.”

  “There are trained professionals employed to respond to situations like this. No one will say you’re useless if you don’t go out there and risk your life.”

  The car still hadn’t started moving again. “That is exactly what they are saying. People are starting to believe that we have outlived our usefulness. We have no value that we provide. We are pampered and pretentious,” she said, challenging him to defy her reasoning.

  “You and I both know that is far from the truth.” But he released her arm, as if giving her permission to go.

  “Sí.” Because it wasn’t far from the truth. “Because there’s more to the situation than that.” She put her hand on the door handle next to her, prepared to get out. “If the bodyguard thinks the situation will get bad, I will leave. But our people need one of us out there, and I am the expendable one.”

  He rubbed his eye and shook his head, his expression saying that he was at his wits end. “You are not expendable, Hermanita.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re the king. I’m third in line now that Siobhan has been found.”

  “Regardless. You don’t know—”

  “Well, I can’t just sit here safe and pampered.” She smiled at him and opened the door.

  He pulled her into his arms and gave her a tight hug. “Be safe, dammit.”

  “I will.” She placed a kiss on his cheek, got out and closed the door.

  Roger looked at her over the roof of the car, his mouth open. “Your Royal—”

  She held up a hand to silence him. “I’m staying here with a bodyguard. Get your King to safety.”

 

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