Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

by Hayley Faiman

  “Henny,” I say with exasperation.

  “Ssshh,” he rumbles as he slides his fingers out of me and replaces them with his long, hard cock.

  My breath leaves my lungs as we both freeze. Henrik’s nose nuzzles my neck, and I pinch my eyes closed, trying to tamp down my desire to take control and move, knowing that it would not be well received.

  “I want you to come around my cock,” he whispers.

  I gasp when his fingers begin to play with my clit, gently, yet firmly. I try to move, but he removes his fingers. A pattern I’m becoming to recognize as his, taking me hard and rough, and then the next time, being gentle and soft.

  “I’m not going to move, and you’re not going to move. You’re going to stay perfectly still and come around my cock. I want to feel every flutter of your perfect pussy.”

  My answer is to whimper, afraid that if I speak, I’ll sob or throw a tantrum. He’s keeping himself from me, and asserting his dominance and control—I love it as much as I hate it right now.

  Henrik’s fingers move back to the space between my legs, and he begins to bring me closer toward my release, again. He starts gently petting me, swirling his fingers and pressing against my clit; then he switches tactics to pinching and every so often delivering a light tap against me.

  “Oh, shit,” I sob as I climb higher and higher toward my climax.

  “I want you to scream my name when you come,” he grinds out through a clenched jaw.

  I don’t wait another second. My orgasm rolls through me, and I scream out his name, the only name he wishes me to call him—Henny.

  “Fuck,” he clips as my pussy clenches around him, holding his hard length inside of me while the rest of my body shakes uncontrollably.

  Then, he rolls me onto my stomach, never losing our connection, his hand leaving my breasts to tangle in the back of my hair.

  My body is completely spent, and I’m unable to move, but he growls behind me, his legs shifting around until his knees are between my thighs. I grunt when his hands grasp my hips and he pulls them up; then finally—finally—he moves.

  Henrik doesn’t ease in and out of me. No, he slams inside of me with rigorous, harsh, unrelenting power. My once completely exhausted body is ready and willing for more from him. I rear back against him, enjoying the groan that escapes him at the move.

  “Fuck me, Riona, fuck my goddamn cock,” he growls before his hand lands against my ass in a sharp slap.

  I do as he’s demanded. I fuck his cock, meeting his hard thrusts each and every time until I’m on the edge again, ready to topple over and succumb to another orgasm.

  “Come, come all over me,” he orders, slapping my ass again. As if on cue, I do as he’s requested.

  I scream out into the room, my arms unable to hold my shaking body up a moment longer. Henrik stills his own body as he roars with his release. Then, he collapses on top of me, his chest against my sweat soaked back, and his mouth against my neck.

  “Spectacular,” he whispers as he gently sucks on my skin.

  “Wow,” is all I can muster through my heavy breaths.

  “Sarah will be here any moment. We should shower quickly,” he murmurs as he stays unmoving, his cock still deep inside of me.

  “You need to get off of me if you want me to shower,” I say with a smile playing on my lips.

  I really wish he could stay exactly where he is for as long as possible. Evading reality seems like the most splendid of ideas at the moment. However, he grunts and slides out of me before he rolls off of the bed and helps me up.

  We hurry and shower, trying to avoid screwing against the warm, massive, shower wall. It’s hard, especially when he makes extra sure that all of my two thousand body parts are the cleanest I think they’ve ever been in my entire life.

  I return the favor, naturally; and when his length begins to grow in the palm of my hand, he bats me away from him with a smile and a wink.

  Henrik hands me a robe to wear, assuring me that Sarah should be here within the half-hour to outfit me for the dinner this evening, and that getting dressed would be futile. I wrap myself in his black robe, which is plush on the inside but satin on the outside and extremely delicious.

  Henrik emerges just a few moments later, dressed in a pair of light gray, which look as though they were made just for his body. If they weren’t, I might be surprised. He’s wearing a dark teal button-up shirt that is left open down to the second buttonhole at the top.

  He’s also wearing a dark gray belt that matches his dark gray loafers to perfection. His hair is still damp but combed and styled neatly, and he looks everything like the prince that he is, down to the big black watch that rests on his wrist.

  “You look very handsome,” I murmur.

  “Thanks,” he says distractedly as he looks at his phone. “Oh, Sarah’s here.”

  I hold my breath as I follow him into the living area and toward the door. Once he swings open the apartment door, all I see are shiny, glossy department store bags and dress bags piled and hanging on a rack. Then I catch movement in the corner of my eye, and I gasp at the sight before me.

  There is a short woman, round in every way a woman can be round, purple tinted hair, hot pink eye shadow and red lipstick. She’s wearing a bright purple pencil skirt with a hot pink silk button up blouse, and a purple blazer that matches her skirt exactly. Her shoes are bright red kitten heels. She’s so brightly colored; I feel as though I need my sunglasses just to look at her.

  “I’m Sarah. Don’t stare, duckie,” she announces and admonishes as she walks through the door, pulling the cart behind her.

  “Good evening, Sarah,” Henrik chuckles before he leans down and presses his lips to her cheek.

  “You go off now, I have to tend to your missus quickly so you’re not late,” she scolds.

  I hear Henrik laugh and almost miss his wink in my direction before he closes the door and makes his way toward the direction of his office.

  “I’m Caitriona,” I say, smiling as best I can while holding out my hand to her. She shakes it as her gaze gives me a once over and then she grins.

  “Okay, shall we get started then?” Sarah announces as we walk into the master bedroom.

  I nod, unsure of what to do as she starts moving around. I watch as she opens two garment bags and holds up two dresses for me to look at. Neither are options I would ever consider wearing—ever. They are both so stuffy looking.

  The first is a black, high neck, caped sleeved, straight cut to below the knee, boring-as-hell dress that looks like a giant rectangle.

  Then there’s an olive green, simple wrap dress that has a three quarter sleeve with a deep V cut up top. It looks as though it will fall to my knees, and, after a second glance, it looks pretty. I pick the bottom of the dress up and feel the fabric between my fingers. I like it; it’s soft and feminine.

  The shoes, on the other hand, are beautiful simple pale pink high heels. I love them. I take the wrap dress and try it on, then slip my feet inside of the shoes. I smile at my reflection in the full length mirror of my empty closet. It looks good on me, hugging my curves without being too much.

  “They’ll be expecting something like the black, but I saw your wedding photo, and I just knew this green was more you,” Sarah announces, nodding her head in agreement to the choice I’ve made.

  I cringe at the announcement of her viewing my wedding photo, the too short, too tight, dress of Madison’s. I wish it would disappear. I look like I’m about to bust at the seams in the photograph. I shake the image away and decide to focus on the task ahead of me.

  I quickly make my way into the bathroom and try to do my makeup, putting on a light foundation base with champagne eye shadow, a sweep of mascara and sheer lip gloss. It’s more that I usually wear, since makeup isn’t really my thing.

  I notice, in the mirror, that my freckles are showing more than usual, but I just shrug that off. Perhaps it bothers some people, but I kind of like my freckles.

&nbs
p; I run some curl enhancing elixir in my hair, and scrunch it up the way Madison has taught me how. I don’t really have the time to try and straighten it; so it’s going to have to be crazy and wild, per the usual.

  One last look, and I can’t believe it’s really me. The new dress and the shoes really make a difference, making me look more polished than ever. Taking my new beautiful wedding rings and sliding them on my fingers as my only jewelry means that I’m ready to go.

  I walk back into the bedroom area to find Sarah just finishing hanging up the rest of the clothes she’s purchased, and her eyes meet mine. She smiles hesitantly, and I instantly start to panic.

  “It’s too low cut, isn’t it?” I ask, looking into the full length mirror again.

  The dress hugs me tightly from chest to waist, and then flares out at the hips. It shows a small amount of cleavage, but a massive amount of my bare upper chest.

  “You look lovely. If those stuffy arses give you any grief, don’t listen to them,” she quips. “Now, I’ll be round to pick you up at ten tomorrow morning so that we can outfit you with a proper wardrobe,” Sarah murmurs before kissing each of my cheeks.

  I stand in surprise, just watching as she waltzes out of the bedroom. I’m unsure of what she means by seeing me tomorrow morning, but I’m too baffled to question her.

  I walk out into the living room to find Henrik with his eyes closed and his head leaning back against the sofa. I watch him for just a moment, wanting to remember his handsome face so relaxed. I hate to interrupt him, but I know that we need to get going. I do not want to be late for this dinner. I clear my throat and he sits straight up, his eyes popping open and then focusing on me before he smiles.

  Henrik’s lips part a bit once his eyes start to scan me; then they glaze over, and a lazy grin appears on his face, but he stays silent.

  When he doesn’t speak, I start to panic, again, wondering if I made the correct decision on the dress. I even contemplate running back to the bedroom and changing into the terrible black dress. Henrik begins walking toward me, all business, and ready to leave.

  “Come, my beautiful girl, let’s do this,” he says, his voice hoarse and thick. “This dress is beautiful, precious. I’m going to be hard all night long,” he whispers when he reaches me, his lips at my ear.

  A shiver runs down my body, and he watches as he pulls away. I then notice a gleam in his gorgeous green eyes. I smile back at him and shake my head.

  “Let’s get this over with, so they can tell me how much they hate me, and we can come home and you can show me how much you like me,” I murmur.

  “They may not approve, Riona, but nobody could hate you. I don’t want to hear anything contrary to that,” he grunts.

  Together, we walk hand in hand out of the apartment, into the elevator car, and then out to the front of the building. I’m thankful that there are no more reporters waiting with cameras, and I hope that leaving the apartment will forever be this quiet and calm.

  We slide into the backseat of the waiting car, and I let the silent car relax me. I soak in the silence and just breathe. Henrik seems to know what I need, because he doesn’t try to speak. He doesn’t ask me if I’m all right, he just lets me be for a few moments, and I’m extremely grateful.

  The car pulls up to a building. I’m too nervous to look at it, knowing that this is our destination. Henrik wraps his palm around the back of my neck and squeezes gently. I turn to face him, seeing his kind eyes on me—his kind and concerned eyes.

  “All will be just fine, Riona,” he assures.

  “I want them to like me, and I know they won’t—at least not right now, not after the way we’ve begun,” I murmur.

  “My mum will love you. No matter what, you have Philip, Bee, my mum, and me at your side.”

  I nod, not feeling any more confident after his pep talk. His lips brush mine as the driver opens the door.

  Now is the time.

  Now is when it all becomes a reality.

  Everything up until now has been real, but it’s felt like a dream. Right now, tonight, the dream ends and true reality sets in.

  I’m not ready.

  STANDING OUTSIDE OF THE FRONT door next to Henrik, I am more nervous in this very moment than I have been my entire life. There is a room full of people who will mostly likely hate me on sight, not to mention the fact that I’m also in a strange and new country; it all makes me uneasy. Nothing, not one thing, can prepare a person for meeting royalty who happen to be your new in-laws—absolutely nothing.

  Henrik rings the bell and we wait. I twist my fingers around as his thumb gently massages my side, where his hand rests against my hip. The move is probably meant to be comforting, but all I can think about is how his hands felt on my bare body just hours ago.

  When the door swings open, I blink, hard, twice. The man standing before me is obviously a servant. He is dressed to a perfect science, and I feel frumpy just being around him, which means I am going to feel awful around Henrik’s family.

  Fantastic.

  “Angus,” Henrik says with a nod.

  His hand moves to my lower back and he applies pressure to guide me through the door. I know I am trembling in fear, real actual fear.

  Everything is so unknown, and I feel as though I’m walking into what could potentially be a complete and total disaster. Probably not even potentially. No, it’s going to be a complete and total disaster.

  Henrik’s hand is wrapped around my waist, and I’m tucked in close to his side when we enter the formal living area. All eyes turn to us.

  “Grandfather, father, mum, I would like you to meet my wife, Caitriona,” Henrik announces.

  I brace myself as I force my eyes from scanning the room to focus on each person, to face whatever music will be coming my way. I see several emotions as I make eye contact with each one. Disgust and hatred are the most common, but Henrik’s mother looks at me with pure sympathy, and possibly even pity. I hate that.

  Then I hear her.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I saw that awful tabloid photo of the two of you this morning, but it is true. She is just as fat in person as she is on the front of a magazine.” Eugenie’s voice floats through the air and cuts me like a sharpened butcher knife as she walks into the room from around the corner.

  I know that it’s her. I’ve not only seen her on television, but I’ve also heard her shrill voice through Henrik’s phone. My first reaction is to turn and cry, but then I feel Henrik’s hand tighten around my waist, and I hear a low growl rise from his throat.

  “Unacceptable, Eugenie,” Henrik announces calmly. “Why are you even here?” he sighs.

  “Edward invited me. I am almost family. I have a right to be here for this family discussion,” she whines as she points to Henrik’s parents.

  “You are most certainly not almost family, that is what this is about. I told you we are not to be married,” Henrik growls, turning to his father, who I now know is named Edward.

  “You cannot be serious about sticking this farce out, Henrik. This is irresponsible and just plain stupid,” Edward says. I watch as his eyes fill with anger.

  “Everybody sit,” Henrik’s grandfather announces.

  Everyone in the room freezes before they promptly sit, including Henrik and me. We walk over and sit next to Philip and Beatrice.

  “I am most unhappy, Henrik,” he begins. My eyes travel down to my shoes. I want to cry. “I am not only unhappy because of how you have behaved throughout your youth and up until just a few months ago, I am also unhappy with the careless choice you made to wed this girl. Consciously aware or not, you did something unheard of. It’s a damned embarrassment and a stain on our family,” he says.

  I have never felt as ashamed, embarrassed, and downright dirty as I do right now. Henrik was a one-night stand, my one and only one-night stand, which ended in matrimony.

  What we have isn’t conventional, not for me and definitely not for him, but it isn’t dirty either. It’s a story for
the books, and juicy gossip for the tabloids; but for us, between the two of us, it’s so much more. I hate how his grandfather is making it something it’s not, based off of perception alone—nothing else.

  “This woman, if you wish to call her that, is not good enough for you. She is also not good enough for this country. She is overweight, to the point of complete disgust, her hair is absurd, and she dresses like common trash. I have seen the dossier on her, and I must say, I am not impressed. She is a bastard child who doesn’t even know the name of her own father; her mother has been married more times than I could even count, and has lived with even more men than that.

  “She lives in the pool house of a friend, and she has five hundred dollars in her checking account. She owns nothing, not even her car. This marriage cannot be accepted by me or the country. I will strip you of your future title, and any heirs you create with this creature if you choose to stay with her,” he announces.

  By the end of Henrik’s grandfather’s speech, I am in full blown tears, my body shaking with silent sobs. He is a horrible, awful, vile man, and he has hit on each and every negative aspect of my entire life in less than five minutes.

  The mean old man stands and leaves before anyone can attempt to speak. Not once did he say that, though my life has not been easy, I’ve done well for myself. I have worked hard to provide what I can, to make my life better than the one my mother gave me.

  Henrik wraps his arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side, ever closer than I was before, as if he can shield me from the hurtful words that were just hurled in my direction. I should push him off and run away, go back to Oregon; but at the moment, I am too broken to move.

  “Well, I think Father has said everything that needs to be said. Though, I will add something, a bit of a compromise,” Edward says. My eyes lift to meet his wicked ones.

  “Henrik, put her up in a modest apartment, give her an allowance, and divorce her. Wed Eugenie and make legitimate heirs with her,” Edward offers with a smirk.