Just like the life I was born into, with the mother I had, it was not chosen. But I made a decision and I left that life, and then I chose to leave Oregon to be at his side.
“I love you, Henny,” I whisper, unsure of what else to say.
“And I adore and love you, Riona,” he murmurs before his lips touch mine.
There’s nothing else to say between us. The decisions and choices we’ve made have shaped our future. We’ll have his family at our side, but he’s no longer His Majesty Prince Henrik, and he’s happy with that fact.
He rolls my body until he’s between my thighs and hovering over me; then he slowly slips inside of my center, his cock hard and warm. I lift my legs to wrap them around his hips, locking my ankles behind his lower back.
Henrik makes love to me, slow and gentle, and his green eyes never once leave mine. I come as his lips touch mine and swallow my cry. After he’s climaxed, I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. He stays above me, inside of me, and his mouth continues to take mine in a slow sensual, devouring kiss.
“You need to get ready,” Henrik announces a few hours later as he walks into the bedroom.
I’m lounging against the headboard, still completely naked, eating a croissant and plate of fruit. After we made love, I needed sleep, then I woke up and needed food. I felt like my stomach was going to eat itself. I’d never felt so hungry in my entire life.
“Where am I going?” I ask around the heavenly buttery bread.
“Mum wishes to have a meeting with you, something about a gala?” he asks, arching his brow.
The gala. I completely forgot. It’s scheduled for next Saturday. Beatrice and Helena have been organizing it for me, especially since I have zero clue and even less contacts on how to put something like that together.
“Oh, that,” I mutter.
“What’s it about, then?” he asks as he starts to get dressed.
I take him in and see that his hair is damp from the shower, he’s dressing in a pair of dark washed jeans and a solid white, tight t-shirt. I haven’t seen him look this casual, ever, and I love it.
“Oh, uh, I thought since I did all of those visits to different hospitals that I would try to raise some money for children’s cancer research instead of trying to raise money and then distributing it amongst the different hospitals,” I shrug as I take a bite of cantaloupe from my plate.
“That’s brilliant, Riona,” he murmurs. “Truly, I love that idea.”
I beam up at him, glad that he is supportive of my idea. My breath hitches when he reaches out and tucks some fallen hair behind my ear before he cups my cheek.
“You’re a very beautiful person, inside and out. I adore this about you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Hop up now, and we’ll go together to your meeting. I’m very interested to see how this gala will be,” he grins.
I place my plate on the nightstand and then make my way toward the bathroom to shower and get ready. Henrik groans before he leaves me to, presumably, go to his office and get a little work done.
I know he’s taken some time off, but I also know that he’ll want to check in a few times as well. I like that about him; he’s been taught to be responsible no matter how wild his youth was. And I have a feeling, the way his family has been, was complete, downright insanity.
Once I’m fresh from the shower, I take a look in my closet. I haven’t unpacked a single item, but I still have a few things I can wear to see Helena and Beatrice. I decide on a simple pair of coral jeans and a white top, paired with a navy blue cotton blazer; then I slip my feet into a pair of shimmery gold high heels. When I’m ready, I make my way toward Henrik’s office.
I stand in the doorway and watch him work. He’s concentrating on his computer, his tongue poking out slightly as his brows furrow. He looks younger, his hair a mess, him dressed in a t-shirt. I like him this way, so comfortable looking, and it reminds me of the way I saw him at the pool in Vegas.
“Ready?” he asks without looking up.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I can feel when you walk into a room, precious,” he smirks as he looks up at me, his green eyes sparkling.
“You heard my shoes?” I ask, tipping my head to the side.
I watch as he powers down his computer, stands, and then skirts around his desk, making his way toward me in silence. He wraps his hands around my hips and pulls me flush against his body, his head tipping down so that his nose runs along mine.
“I heard your shoes, Riona, but I also know when you’re in a room. My body knows its desire is present,” he murmurs before he brushes his lips against mine.
“You sound like one of those werewolf’s in a paranormal book.”
“I have no clue what you mean,” he chuckles.
“You know, they always say that they can sense their mate and stuff,” I murmur, realizing I sound completely silly.
“I don’t know about werewolf’s, precious, but my cock knows when you’re around. It’s in a constant state of semi-arousal whenever you’re in the same space.”
“Henrik,” I murmur.
“Are you wet?” he asks, moving his lips to my ear.
“No,” I lie.
“I could take you quickly against my desk,” he offers, pressing his length against my belly. “Bend you over, pull down those sexy-as-fuck pants, and take that sweet, sweet cunt of yours.”
“Please,” I whimper.
I want that. We’ve had sweet sex since I’ve been home, but I want what he’s growling about in my ear, right now.
Henrik picks me up, pressing his lips to mine and thrusting his tongue in my mouth as he walks us over to his desk. Without a word, he sets me down and spins me around, ordering me to place my hands flat on the desk. I do so without question. I’m so ready for his touch, for him to take me, I’ll do whatever he demands right now.
I shiver when I feel his fingers at my jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping and then yanking them down my legs, stopping at my mid-thighs, along with my panties.
Henrik’s strong hands grip my ass and squeeze before one his hands slides to my center and his finger presses against my clit. I’m already wet, and by the sound of his hum behind me, he’s pleased.
“Are you ready for my cock?” he asks as he thrusts two of his fingers inside of me.
I tip my hips back a little more and whimper at the quick intrusion. I’m ready for him, all of him, and I want him now.
“Yes,” I moan, dropping my head.
Henrik removes his fingers from between my legs and both of his hands grab hold of my hips with a firm grip, digging into my flesh. Then I feel his cock pressing against my center and he slowly sinks inside of me.
“Henny,” I sigh once he’s fully seated.
“Precious Riona,” he murmurs before he pulls almost completely out of me and then slams back inside with such force I lose my breath.
He does it again, and again, not stopping, or slowing, or easing his thrusts. It’s perfect. I let my body relax as I take him inside of me. Every single stroke, every thrust, I accept. My body is loose and pliable for him as he brings me toward the height of pleasure I know that he will deliver.
“Touch yourself, Riona,” he grinds out.
I can tell he’s close. His rhythm is changing, becoming more erratic with each thrust from his hips.
I slide one of my hands between my thighs and shiver when my figures initially touch my clit. I’m so close, I can feel my body on the edge, but I just need a little bit to push me over. I brace my forearm on the desk and let my forehead rest against my arm. Then I begin to rub circles against my clit as Henrik continues to pump vigorously in and out of my body, with wild abandon.
“Come, Riona. Fuck, precious, come,” he practically begs behind me, his voice so strained it’s almost unrecognizable.
Within seconds, I do as he’s begged. I come, and when I do, it’s with a sob. Henrik freezes inside of me, and I feel his dick twitch and
then his climax.
“Fuck,” he curses as he presses his chest against my back.
The only things holding me up are the desk and his tight grip on my hips, otherwise, I would be a sweaty, messy, pile of flesh and bones on the floor right now.
“How am I going to look your mother in the eye in a few minutes?” I ask breathlessly.
Henrik chuckles but offers zero advice for me, except to tap me on the ass and tell me we’re leaving in five minutes.
I hurry to the bathroom to clean up, fixing my hair and makeup before I follow him out the door. Henrik wraps his hand around my hip and tucks me into his side before he nuzzles my neck as we ride the elevator.
“Love you, Riona,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my skin.
“I love you, too, Henny,” I whisper.
We walk to the waiting car together, and to my surprise, Henrik drives us to his parent’s home. He keeps one hand on my leg the entirety of the short distance to his parents’ house. Even when we exit the car, he meets me at my side and slides his hand around my hip again, tucking me in close and keeping me there. I love it, the affection, the simple touches. It’s absolutely perfect.
I listen to my mother and Beatrice prattle on about the gala, and all of the plans they made. Riona seems most interested in everything, and even asks a few questions, none of which I’m paying attention to.
All I can think about is the fact that she’s here next to me, home, in my arms and my bed, and that she’s pregnant with my child. I feel like I’m living in a daze—a dream.
“Sarah put the event on your calendar, did she not?” my mum asks, breaking my daydreaming.
“I don’t know what’s on my calendar, mum. I’m sure she did.”
“Well, then, Caitriona you need a dress. I’ve had my assistant contact some exclusive designers, but unfortunately, their samples were all otherwise occupied,” my mother says, whispering her last words.
She’s trying to be delicate and nice. She’s not telling Riona the truth, though. Sample dresses are in miniscule sizes, something that I know because Eugenie talked about it incessantly the few times I was in her presence.
“Don’t fret, I’ll take care of it,” I murmur, kissing the side of her head before I stand and walk away.
I take myself outside on the back patio and call Sarah.
“Sir,” she murmurs, obviously busy.
“There’s a gala next weekend,” I announce.
“Yes, your lovely bride’s event. It’s on your schedule,” she says.
“My lovely bride doesn’t have a dress. Mum just informed her that all the designer’s samples are otherwise occupied.”
“That’s a load of bolloks,” Sarah mutters.
“I know, which is why I’m calling you. What can you do?” I ask, hopeful that she’ll be able to find something, or someone to design a dress.
“Do you know what I think would be smashing?” she asks.
I can tell she’s smiling extremely wide, and she’s probably feeling a bit sneaky, which is Sarah and one reason I truly adore her.
“Go on.”
“She needs a dress from a department store. People will love that. Of course, it won’t be something inexpensive, it will still be exquisite, but it will also seem as though she’s more down to earth,” Sarah explains. It sounds like my Riona, so I agree with her plan.
“I’ll pick her up at ten tomorrow morning,” Sarah announces before she ends the call.
I grin to myself, pleased that I have Sarah at my side to help with such matters, knowing that she’s going to take great care of my Riona.
I LOOK AT MYSELF IN the mirror, completely shocked at how elegant I look. I’ve never looked elegant in my entire life, and yet here I am. My hair is up in a massive bun, away from my face, and sleek. Not one hint of its natural, uninhibited wildness is on display.
My shoes are gold, shimmer high heel pumps, with gold studs around the edge—Valentino, a brand I never thought I would ever have the opportunity to see in person, let alone own.
My dress is electric blue, with a wrap bodice that is sleeveless. There is a tiny cut out at my waist with a twist of fabric, both in front and in the back. It hugs my waist and then falls freely to the floor.
I look down at my wedding ring and smile, my only piece of jewelry, but the only piece I require. I grasp my shimmery gold clutch in my hand and make my way toward the living room, where I know Henrik is waiting for me.
He’s waiting for me all right.
Standing with his hip against the counter and a cocktail in hand, he looks every bit the prince he is.
Henrik is dressed to perfection in a tuxedo that I know is specially made for him, and designer. His hair is its usual messy mop, and his face has a bit of stubble, but he looks absolutely—
“Stunning,” he says, taking my exact thoughts.
“I agree,” I nod, not taking my eyes from his.
“You’re missing something, precious,” he murmurs as he sets his glass down.
He then makes his way toward me, his gait slow and sexy as sin.
“What’s that?” I whisper.
I watch as he reaches inside of his jacket and pulls out a small velvety box. Then he opens it and it takes my breath away. Nestled in the dark blue velvet is a necklace—and not just any necklace, but a diamond necklace. Each diamond is so big, I couldn’t guess the total carat weight even if I tried, and they’re surrounded by a rose gold setting.
“Henny,” I wheeze.
He doesn’t say anything. He removes the necklace before tossing the box onto the sofa and walking around me. Then I feel the weight of the jewels touch my neck and my hand automatically goes to it, touching the magnificent stones as he clasps it at my back. Then, he grasps onto my shoulders and spins me around to face him.
“You look like royalty,” he murmurs before his lips gently touch mine, careful not to mess up my lipstick.
“It’s so beautiful, Henny, thank you so much,” I whisper.
“Expect so much more from me in the future, Riona. You’re very deserving of beautiful things.”
I open my mouth to oppose his words, but his hand presses against my lower stomach and his green eyes meet mine as his lips tip.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Good. Wonderful, actually,” I whisper.
“The doctor?”
Henrik set up an appointment for me today, my first doctor’s appointment, and he couldn’t make it. There was an emergency at his office, and he had to go to a meeting, something he was not thrilled about. He voiced his unhappiness very boisterously about it as well.
I open my clutch and reach inside before I take out the little slip of paper the doctor gave to me. It’s the first picture of our child, a sonogram that confirms I am indeed pregnant—six weeks pregnant, in fact.
The doctor told me that all of the stress I’d had recently made it simple to write off any symptoms as stress related instead of pregnancy related. I asked him about morning sickness, and why I hadn’t had any, and he told me to count myself lucky so far, and that it could come at any time or not at all.
“What’s this?” Henrik asks, taking the paper from my hand.
“This little blob is our baby,” I murmur, pointing to what the doctor told me was our child.
It looks like a blob to me, but the doctor assured me that it was, indeed, a child.
“Yeah?” he asks as he studies the sonogram photo.
“It’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” Henrik murmurs, his eyes completely focused.
A chime on his phone alerts us to the fact that the limousine is waiting downstairs. Henrik takes the picture and puts it in the breast pocket of his jacket, the place that held my necklace just moments ago.
“This is mine, yeah?” he asks as he pats his jacket pocket.
“Yeah,” I confirm.
“Good,” he grunts as he wraps his hand around mine.
Together, we walk out of the apartment and towar
d the elevator.
We ride in the limousine in silence, me tucked close to Henrik’s side as we pick up the rest of our party, Philip and Beatrice.
“Your dress is so pretty, where’d you find it?” Beatrice asks as we drive toward the event.
“Sarah and I decided to go to some of the major department stores to see what we could dig up at the last minute. She said next time I could try and talk to a designer about having something made, like perhaps for your wedding,” I say.
Beatrice looks at me a little funny but then schools her features and gives me a warm smile.
I don’t have time to question her as we’ve arrived at our destination. My eyes widen when I see a red carpet and the paparazzi littering each side of it, along with news cameras and reporters.
“Ready, precious?” Henrik whispers into my ear.
“No,” I murmur truthfully.
“Get ready, because there’s only one way out of the limo,” he chuckles and then the door opens.
I’m bombarded with bright lights flashing, but I try to ignore them as I smile and allow Henrik to help me out of the car. He tucks me in close to his side, and together, we begin to walk the red carpet.
Philip and Beatrice are in front of us, and we all end up stopping to take pictures every few steps. It feels so surreal that I can’t believe this is really my life.
“It’s rumored that all of this was your idea, Princess Caitriona,” one reporter calls out.
“I had an idea to put together a gala for childhood cancer research, yes. But it was Princess Helena, and Beatrice that really did all of the organization and hard work,” I smile.
We continue on our way when the last reporter in the line blurts out.
“How do you feel about Princess Nicoline being in attendance?”
I try not to show emotion at the question. Inside my stomach drops and I feel ill. Henrik’s hand tightens around my waist, and I watch him open his mouth, about to say something, but I beat him to it.
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale Page 25