The Proposal Problem: A Billionaire Royal Hangover Romance

by Natalie Knight

“I don’t like vegetables, and I prefer champagne over wine. Taste of Diamonds is the best brand.”

  Of course it fucking is; it only costs millions per bottle.

  “Grocery store’s about five miles away. If you start walking now, you’ll make it by the time they open tomorrow.” At this point I’m not even kidding.

  I’m seething inside. I’m just trying to get to know her better, and all she does is ruin dinner. Is there no limit to her bitchiness?

  That gets her goat, apparently.

  “You expect me to go out like this? What the fuck is your problem?”

  “Problem? Really? You have the balls to ask me what my fucking problem is?” I furrow my brow and slide my tongue over my lower lip, ready to let loose on her. “My problem is that there’s a spoiled fucking princess sitting across from me who can’t even be appreciative of a damn meal.”

  I’ve had it. I grab my plate, ready to call it a night and get as far away from Stella as possible.

  “What about dessert?”

  Dessert? Is she for fucking real?

  “What are you, fucking five?!” I slam my fist on the table and stalk around to the other side of the table where she’s sitting. “Fine, you want dessert? I’ve got your fucking dessert.”

  I pull her chair out and turn it so she’s facing me. Her eyes go wide for a minute before she regains composure.

  “What the fuck—”

  I am not giving her the satisfaction. I reach down and yank her up by the waist.

  In one swift motion, I press my lips to hers. Hard.

  If she’s not going to shut up, I’m gonna shut her up. I’m giving her something so sweet she’ll never think of asking for dessert again.

  6

  Stella

  His tongue in my mouth may be one of the best things I’ve ever felt. He’s holding me hard. His hands seem to find parts of my body I didn’t know existed.

  Every nerve I possess is on high alert, screaming for more.

  I feel his cock pressing against me. I knew he was big but fuck. The sheer knowledge of what he’s packing makes me moan.

  This guy is enormous.

  His hands find their way to the tie at my waist, tugging roughly. This small piece of fabric represents the only thing that really stands between me and partial nudity. I’m thrilled to watch it fall to the floor.

  His hands come up to my shoulders, easily sliding the shirt from my body now that it’s not held in place.

  He’s seen me naked before. Well, wearing nothing but packing peanuts anyway. Still, I hear his sharp intake of breath as the shirt pools around my bare feet.

  A sound crawls from his mouth.

  It’s primal, almost a growl.

  It sends chills racing through my body. My pussy responds in kind. I’m wetter than I thought possible.

  I reach for him next, unbuttoning his shirt with slow, decisive movements, savoring each inch of skin I reveal. When all of the buttons have been undone, I see that even my fantasies didn’t quite measure up to the man in front of me.

  I was definitely right about the eight-pack though.

  This fucking guy really does look like a god.

  He’s perfect, every inch of him is sharply cut muscle; his skin is sun-kissed and glowing. I want to run my hands over every last inch of him.

  He bends down and takes one of my hard nipples into his mouth. His hand finds the other at the same time. I feel like a fool for never knowing just how amazing it could feel to have your nipples sucked.

  A surge of energy races through my body, pooling between my legs.

  He pulls back, and my nipple leaves his mouth with an audible pop.

  My head is spinning. I open my mouth to say something, anything.

  Okay, yeah. I have a little habit of talking when I’m overwhelmed. Some people find it adorable—maybe not most but some.

  He’s clearly not one of the few, however. The moment he sees me opening my mouth to speak his hands are at my waist, spinning me in place.

  Next thing I know, I’m bent over the kitchen table, mind racing and mouth firmly shut.

  I’m admittedly new to this kind of thing, so I’m not exactly sure what he’ll do next.

  The last thing I’m expecting is the sudden sting of his hand smacking hard against my bare ass.

  “Hey!” I yelp.

  His only response is a chuckle. Fucking asshole.

  “Don’t you dare—”

  WHACK!

  He spanks me again.

  I’m more surprised than anyone when the next sound to come from me is a moan.

  “Were you gonna say something?” he asks.

  All I can do is shake my head.

  Sure, I’d love to say that I’m the kind of girl who’s super above being spanked by a man. In fact, up until this very moment I was certain that I was. As his hand comes in for a third swat however, I’m quite sure I was mistaken.

  WHACK!

  I can practically feel the red mark forming on that one.

  It only makes me moan louder.

  By this point, I’m practically dripping wet. My nails are damn near digging grooves into his expensive kitchen table.

  So when I feel him drop to his knees behind me, I nearly lose it with the knowledge of what’s to come.

  I feel his hands rubbing across my ass, irritating the already sore skin in a way that makes me crazy.

  Then, suddenly I feel his teeth.

  If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve just discovered my affinity for spanking, I would never believe that I’d enjoy being bitten. As it stands now though, nothing would surprise me, so I moan loudly as his teeth practically embed themselves in my flawless skin.

  FUCK.

  His hands snake around to again grasp me by the hips. A moment later, I feel his tongue. It slides into me, massaging, searching.

  I moan louder than ever.

  Is this what I’ve been missing?

  I’ll have to kick myself for holding out later though. Right now, I can barely think straight.

  He finds his way to my clit, licking me as if he can’t get enough of my taste.

  The world could stop turning, and I sure as hell wouldn’t notice. The only thing I know about, the only thing I care about, is his fucking tongue. His tongue and all the many things that it could do to a body like mine.

  He increases his speed, continuing to rub against my clit as his fingers find their way inside of me.

  It’s literally all I can take.

  As soon as he begins to move his fingers in time with his tongue, I lose it.

  The intensity of it is almost too much.

  I scream. Loud.

  For what feels like a very long time, I’m completely consumed by my orgasm.

  I scream, I shake, I claw at the table and thrust myself back against him.

  I never knew that anything could feel so good. I come so hard I swear I see stars.

  When I’m finished, I slowly push myself to a standing position, turning to face him. He stands as well, smile stretching across his face.

  All I can think is that I want him. All of him.

  Right. Fucking. Now.

  Before I can reach for his belt, his hands are already there, unfastening the buckle in what seems like slow motion. Next, they find the zipper. My heart is beating uncontrollably.

  I don’t think I can wait so much as another second.

  When, finally, he frees his cock, I gasp.

  He is un-fucking-believable. Bigger than I thought was possible.

  His cock may seriously be the most amazing thing I have ever seen.

  And I’ve been to fashion week.

  At some point, my jaw has apparently come unhinged because my mouth is hanging wide open. When I manage to draw my eyes away from his dick, I see him looking at me with what appears to be concern in his eyes. I realize that it’s an unspoken question.

  Can you?

  I smile widely in response.

  FUCK YES, I can.


  7

  Michael

  The smile on her face is dazzling. Doubly so because she’s smiling like this while eyeing my cock, which is standing proudly in all its rock-hard glory. It throbs in response as I step out of my jeans toward her.

  I’ve tasted her sweet pussy, and now it’s time for her to taste me—if she can fit it, that is.

  She certainly seems up to the task, if the look on her face is any indication.

  “Come on, Doctor. Can’t leave you hanging, can we now?”

  She smirks at me.

  Normally, I’d find it infuriating, but right now I’ve got a one-track mind.

  My cock, your mouth.

  She runs one hand down my abs, while the other one skirts up my left thigh. Her nails drag ever so lightly. I can tell she’s doing her best to turn me on and fuck if it ain’t working.

  The anticipation is driving me fucking insane.

  Standing on her tippy toes, she grabs the back of my head and pulls my mouth to hers. Our tongues tangle with an unbridled passion and a sense of urgency.

  I swear it’s the best kiss I’ve ever fucking had in my life.

  Her full lips capture mine, and she nibbles my lower lip before giving me her best ‘Come hither’ look.

  “Mmm…” I groan in desire as her hand dips south.

  I’m keeping my eyes on her mouth. All I know is I want those lips around my cock.

  And I want to watch her take it all in.

  She takes my dick in her hand, slowly stroking the base.

  The movements are a little unsure at first, but they grow steady. I wrap my hand around hers to show her just how I like it. She catches on quick.

  Smart little thing, you are.

  The sensation of her soft hands is maddening. I buck my hips to urge her on and grab a tit for good measure, pinching the already hard nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

  “Ahh!”

  The sound that comes out of her mouth is fucking music to my ears and to my cock. It pulses as she cries out. She may be prissy as fuck when she’s talking, but her moans are sensuality personified.

  She cups my balls, rolling them in her other hand.

  My eyes drift shut with pleasure, but I force them open. I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Combined with the sensation of her stroking me, I’m about to lose all sense of fucking reason.

  Far from being deterred, she slowly lowers herself to her knees. My eyes follow her down. Her eyes are glimmering, a hint of mischief and wonder in them as she comes face-to-face with the monster.

  “Hello big boy,” she purrs.

  And then, she fucking licks it.

  Fuck. So good.

  Most women size it up and strategically plan how to get it in their mouth, miserably failing ninety-nine percent of the time. Stella takes a completely different approach.

  Her hot tongue swirls around the head slowly as if she’s measuring the width. Then, she slowly stretches her lips around the tip.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” I moan, my voice husky with need. “Keep going.”

  “Mmm,” she hums.

  God, I want this so fucking bad.

  I resist the ever-increasing temptation to shove it in, letting her move at her own pace.

  It’s agonizing but in a good way.

  Her tongue keeps working, lubing my dick so she can take it in easier.

  And take it in she does. Her mouth moves slowly down my shaft, taking each inch in.

  Color me fucking impressed. Looks like I finally found a good use for her big mouth after all.

  She’s slowly bobbing her head back and forth, picking up the pace as she goes.

  Before I know it, she’s got my entire fucking cock in her mouth.

  Then, she’s going to town like I’m a Tootsie Roll pop, and she wants the surprise in the middle.

  I can’t take it anymore. I’m at my fucking limit. It’s been so long since I’ve had a decent blowjob that I’m ready to burst—like a fucking dam.

  I thread both hands through her silky hair and start fucking her face, taking care not go overboard. She looks up at me, and I swear I can see the hint of a smile. Her eyes are filled with tears—the good kind—and longing.

  She’s ready, daring me to cum in her mouth.

  Ask and ye shall receive.

  I increase the pace and grab a fistful of hair. My dick is hitting the back of her throat, but she never gags. Not even once.

  With one final thrust, I cum and my entire body shudders with the pleasure.

  Holy fuck.

  “Fuck yes, Stella!” I throw my head back and groan.

  Sweet fucking release.

  I hold her head in place, and her eyes widen with the sudden impact of my hot semen pouring into her mouth. The shock only lasts a moment.

  Then, she’s sucking it all down, eyes closed as if she’s savoring the taste while swallowing each strand as it steadily pumps out.

  I’m fucking enthralled.

  When I’m finally done, I pull out of her mouth slowly.

  I’m panting, and my cock is still twitching from the burst of pleasure.

  She grabs my coat off the floor and tosses it over her shoulder before sauntering over to the table and grabbing a spear of broccoli. She tosses it in her mouth and uses the napkin to wipe the edges of her lips.

  Just like that, she brushes past me with nothing more than a look and a smirk over her shoulder.

  “Thanks for the meal, Doctor.”

  After a performance like that…she’s fucking welcome.

  8

  Stella

  I can’t sleep.

  I lay in the guest room, tossing and turning, my mind racing. I replay my last encounter with Michael over and over, reveling in every memory.

  I’m naked still, which is apparently my new thing. The brush of the sheets on my bare skin reminds me of his hands. The way they roamed across me, explored me…the way his tongue felt inside of me.

  I growl in frustration.

  Why does such an amazing body have to come attached to such an asshat? Or vice versa? Whatever—the point being, he’s a dick.

  A dick with a huge, amazing dick. Try sorting that one out.

  I can’t stop thinking about his cock. The way it felt in my hand and, better yet, the way it felt sliding between my lips.

  How it throbbed, how badly I wanted it inside of me. It’s like a twisted version of counting sheep.

  One, two, three throbbing dicks…

  Only, it definitely isn’t helping me sleep.

  I roll to my side for what seems like the hundredth time, visions of cocks still dancing around my head. I lick my lips, trying to see if I can still taste him there.

  Finally, I give up, throwing the comforter aside to stand.

  I pace the length of the room, plush carpet muffling my steps.

  What on earth am I going to do about this man?

  He’s a bossy, controlling ass. I can barely stand talking to him—he’s that infuriating.

  Earlier though, I didn’t mind being controlled. It’s a fact that’s still surprising to me. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the feeling of being shoved onto that table, of being spanked?

  Pure ecstasy. I feel myself getting wet again at the memory.

  I guess you learn something new every day.

  It’s cold outside of the bed. My nipples stand completely erect. Goosebumps begin to spring up across my bare skin.

  I fantasize about the day that I can finally go home. I fantasize about finding his room and crawling into bed with him. I have absolutely no idea which holds more appeal.

  I decide to get back into bed instead, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

  Four, five, six throbbing dicks…

  Nope. Still not helping.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, awake, thinking of cocks. Fantasizing that my door will open, and he’ll be there, ready for more.

  Eventually, I suppose I fall asleep because the ne
xt time I open my eyes, light is shining through the curtains, and someone’s knocking on my door.

  “Yes?” I ask, hesitant and excited.

  I can no longer feel just one emotion at a time apparently.

  “Can I come in?” he asks.

  “It’s open.”

  I don’t get up to greet him.

  He comes in wearing nothing but boxers.

  I swear the guy’s trying to kill me. The rays of light coming through the window seem to gravitate toward him, highlighting every muscle, accentuating his already golden complexion.

  Great. Now I’m back to picturing him as a god.

  I need help.

  “So,” he says, “I was thinking, if you’re gonna be here for a while, we need to get you some clothes.”

  “Clothes?”

  I nearly jump out of the bed, instantly feeling bad for some of the things I thought last night. Maybe he really is a nice guy—the best in fact.

  “Yeah. I’m getting pretty fucking sick of sharing mine.”

  Or not.

  Still, though.

  CLOTHES!

  I practically skip over to him, tits bouncing, hair flying. I haven’t been so excited since…well, yesterday, but still. I’m really excited.

  “Okay, okay,” he says, like he’s talking to a child. “Calm down.”

  Normally, I’d never let a man tell me to calm down, but I did just skip.

  “Sorry.”

  I’m not.

  “Well, you’ll probably wanna take a shower first,” he says with a grin, “and then we’ll figure out something for you to wear while shopping.”

  “Absolutely. Shower, then shopping. Got it.”

  “Then, I’ll leave you to it.”

  He looks me up and down once more before leaving, a twinkle in his eyes and mischief on his lips.

  After he leaves, I run to the bathroom. No more men’s shirts, no more tie belts.

  I’m going shopping!

  I step under the hot water, mentally making a list of everything I want to buy—well, trying to anyway. To be honest, the image of him in his boxers has kind of distracted me. I’m fighting a losing battle, trying to think clothes when really, I’m back to picturing his cock.