Royal Affair

by Marquita Valentine

  Except…this doesn’t sound like something that would rock a monarchy. No matter who is the father of Charlotte and Imogen, they are still in line for the throne because it’s matrilineal.

  She all but slumps against me, only her pride keeping her on her feet. “Thank you.”

  “Stop thanking me for being a decent human being.”

  “Then stop treating kindness with contempt,” she snaps back.

  Shame and guilt run through me. How far have I sunk that it’s out of character for me to be kind? “I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say, but an apology seems like a good start.

  “I think…I’d like to lie down now.” She starts to pull away, but my grip keeps her in place. I know that if I let her go, she won’t come back to me. That as soon as she’s had time to think, she’ll order me to take her home.

  Except it won’t be an order. It will be a request because Charlotte is everything I’m not.

  “Let me take you to bed, Princess,” I urge, my voice husky. “You don’t have to do anything but sleep. I’ll only hold you. Promise.”

  “Oh—okay.”

  Victory is supposed to be sweet, but right now everything tastes like ash.

  We walk to my bedroom. I have to lead the way since I haven’t given her the grand tour yet. Contingent upon how the rest of the night goes, I might not ever.

  As soon as we enter the room, I let go of her and shut the bedroom door. From here the ocean is bathed in oranges and reds, the sun setting directly behind us. I want to point out how pretty it looks because I know she’d appreciate it, but when I start to say something, she shakes her head and climbs into my bed.

  Since we’d both gotten comfortable by taking off our shoes when we first arrived, there’s no need for me to do anything but take off my shirt and jeans.

  I pull my shirt up and over my head, then unbutton my pants and get rid of them, too, while Charlotte watches me, her lips parting. I’d like to say that it doesn’t turn me on, that I only want to make her feel better emotionally, but if I can’t be honest with myself…

  “I thought you would only hold me,” Charlotte says, her eyes going straight to my groin where my cock is sticking out through my boxer briefs.

  I climb in bed beside her. “You thought right, but I’m a messy cook. No telling what’s on my clothes and I don’t want my bed to smell like seafood….But I’m fucking turned on by you, Princess. Every second of every day.”

  “Me, too.” She sits up and unbuttons her dress, letting it gape open. Her breasts all but spill out of her bra, which is made of only lace and ribbon. She shrugs out of the dress, letting it fall to her waist, and then shimmies the rest of the way out of it.

  I swallow thickly. “You don’t have to get undressed.”

  “I know.” She leans close, coming to hover over me, her long hair pooling on my shoulder like a cool wave of silk. My gaze bounces from her face to her tits and then back to her face. I don’t know exactly where to look because she’s sexy and gorgeous everywhere. “I shouldn’t make you apologize for doing your job.”

  I touch her cheek, caressing her smooth skin as she lowers her head to kiss me. I don’t know what changed her mind, but I don’t deserve her kisses. Don’t even deserve to hold her, see her like this…I simply don’t deserve Charlotte.

  “You were right. I didn’t think.”

  “Not your job to consider feelings.” A warm puff of air touches my throat before her mouth does. “Fuck your feelings…isn’t that what you like to say?”

  It’s a struggle to keep my hands in safe zones. I know she’s trying to teach me a lesson, not apologize, and I’m going to let her own this moment.

  “I’d never say that to you,” I insist.

  She lightly nips at my skin and I have to grab the sheet, my hands fisting. “Yes you would. You already did when you exposed my family to the world without talking to us first.”

  “Yet here we are,” I point out. “You followed me, even after what I did, and you let me…” I groan as she travels lower, licking my chest and then my nipple before she bites the tip. “You let me fuck you.”

  She smiles against my skin. “Just fuck me?”

  “You let me in.” My abs contract as her hand brushes over them, then lower still as she run her knuckles across my cock. “You made me care about you.”

  Her head follows the path her hand took, replacing her fingers with her mouth. She licks my shaft up and down, then takes the head into her mouth and I close my eyes in pleasure as she works me over. As she licks and sucks and drives me insane with her teeth and tongue.

  “You could have helped us and we would have let you,” she says, looking up at me with her beautiful hazel eyes. I try to touch her. “No.”

  One of the sexiest things a woman can do while blowing me is to look up at me, like she’s in total submission and serving my every need. But Charlotte…sweet Princess Charlotte is the one commanding my submission.

  And in this moment, right this fucking moment, I love it.

  “You’re wrong,” I say, taking the chance that she’ll stop lavishing attention on my cock. “I did ask, offered to help even, and your”—she takes me into her mouth again and my mind threatens to stop working—“brother said no. Told me to go fuck myself.”

  She stops and I force my eyes open. “Are you quite certain?”

  “I swear—I can show you the emails. I’m not all bad, sweetheart. I kept the part about your youngest brothers out. Wrote up a nice article about your sister-in-law.” My chest rises and falls like I’ve just finished a soccer game that’s gone into overtime.

  “Never thought you were all bad, Brooks. You should know that by now, but if you don’t…” She wraps her hand around the base of my cock and starts to pump it up and down, her movements slightly jerky until I grab her hand and show her exactly what I love.

  Her head dips and her mouth gets in on the action again. I try not to come, try to concentrate on the conversation we’ve been having, but it’s no use. She’s too damn good and I’m too far gone.

  With a curse, I let go, come in hot spurts while she takes every drop. She takes everything out of me, every damn thing, until I’m stupid and mindless and—

  “I did it for you,” I blurt.

  “For me?” She sits up, her breasts bouncing and her hair falling over them. “What do you mean?”

  “That post…about the fucking war between the fish and worms over flowers…I did it for you. I wanted you to be free.”

  Chapter 13

  Charlotte

  “But you didn’t know me,” I half-protest in shock. “We…we didn’t speak online then.” By speak, I mean leave random comments on each other’s posts, like a mouse playing with a lion. Inviting the lion to come get her until he did.

  Now it turns out I’m responsible for my family’s secret being exposed. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Brooks sits up, his abs and his muscular arms contracting with the movement. “I know what’s going on in your head, Princess. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Except do exactly what Colin warned me against. He forbade me from having social media accounts.” I sit back on my bum and pull my legs up, wrapping my arms around them. “But I thought I knew better. I thought by keeping my identity a secret, no one would guess. Except you did.”

  “Can’t help what I can hack into,” he says, without apology. He nods at his penis, where he’s still half-aroused. “Was that a punishment or reward?”

  “Both.” If he can be honest, so can I. “But not yours, mine.”

  His lips press together into a thin line and his dark blue eyes bore into mine. “Why does being with me have to be a punishment?”

  “Because eventually, I’ll have to live without you.”

  “What happened to our affair not ending?”

  “It’s just an affair, Brooks. Nothing more than that.” I sit up a little. “It’s a Sinclair tradition to take one or two dozen
. Why should I be any different?” Why am I saying this to him?

  “Yeah, why should you be any different? Why should you pretend to be the sweetest, kindest woman I’ve ever met?” he shoots back.

  “I’m not pretending!”

  “Sure you are. It’s in your DNA to fuck anything that will let you. Just admit it, Princess, you were bored and confined by rules you hated but had to follow. I just gave you an excuse and the opportunity to be the real you.” He sneers at me and I flinch at his harsh words. However, I can tell he doesn’t mean it. The conviction that normally accompanies his opinions isn’t there. “In fact, why don’t you just fuck me and be on your way.”

  My face grows hot, but I refuse to back down. I started this argument and I will finish it. “Are you asking me to leave?”

  His mouth twists. “Isn’t that what Sinclairs do?”

  “Don’t judge me by what—” I stop when I realize how idiotic I sound given the bit about Sinclair tradition I went on about. “No, I don’t leave simply because my boyfriend is reacting to my arseholedness by being an arsehole.”

  He blinks at me, the sneer melting away. “Your arseholedness?”

  I nod. “I can be an arse, Brooks. Ask my sister.” When he doesn’t say anything to that, I start to get up. Perhaps some fresh air will help.

  He lunges for me and we go tumbling to one side, but he quickly recovers, pinning me to the mattress with his hips and his hands on my wrists. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I lick my lips. “For a walk on the beach.”

  His gaze skims over me, making my nipples hard and reminding me of how wet I am from pleasuring him. “Not in that you’re not.”

  “What shall I wear?”

  “Not a damn thing, Princess.” He dips his head, his lips stopping millimeters from my mouth. “Stay with me. We can pretend that the conversation in the dining room never happened.”

  “I don’t like fighting with you.”

  He smiles. “We can do other things instead.”

  “Like what?”

  “Make you come.” He lightly kisses my mouth and leans up again. “Make you become addicted to me.”

  “I’m afraid I already am.”

  His eyes darken. “Don’t be afraid of me, Charlotte. I would never hurt you.”

  Physically no, but emotionally…he already has, even if he didn’t mean to. “Why did you want to set me free?”

  “Because no one should live their life locked up in a tower, no matter how royal it is.”

  I smile at him, my heart turning in my chest. “Oh Brooks, don’t you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “When this is over, I have to go back to my tower…only when I do, it will be with the torture of having been in love with you.” Worse, the man I do end up marrying will be second-best to Brooks. I know this with everything inside me. When Sinclairs love, we do it fiercely and completely.

  What I felt for my ex was nothing like this. A schoolgirl crush at the most, a young woman in love with love and the thought of being courted by Prince Charming. Instead, I’ve fallen for the villain of the story. The rogue who goes his own way, unimpressed by money and titles.

  “Charlotte, don’t—”

  “I am, you know. Hopelessly and wonderfully in love with you,” I confess, searching his face. “It’s bloody terrifying.”

  “Don’t go back to your tower,” he says in all seriousness. “Stay with me. Marry me. I can give you everything you want.”

  Yes. Yes. Yes. My poor heart is shouting the word at me, but my brain kicks into gear. This man, whether he knows it or not, is the perfect knight to rescue a damsel in distress. “You don’t want to marry me. You only want to save me.”

  He smiles with a crooked grin. “If saving you means marrying you and having you in my bed every night, I’ll do it.”

  “Gen would put me in the dungeon.”

  “You said it hadn’t been used in years,” he reminds me. “I heard you tell my niece that.”

  I laugh. “That wouldn’t stop my sister. Besides, the only way my marriage would be recognized by Parliament would be for me to renounce my claim to the throne.” Not that I care, really. I’d still be legally married, just not eligible for the throne should something happen to Gen. “Or for Gen to give her blessing by going before Parliament on our behalf.”

  My stomach knots up at the thought. What would she have to promise in order to gain their approval?

  “Does it mean that much to you? You’d rather be queen someday than have your freedom?” he asks.

  No. A million times, no. “I am Gen’s only heir. She needs me and I’m bound by duty.”

  “What about what you need?” He lets go of my wrists and lowers himself on me, keeping most of his weight on his arms. “Are you going to wait until she finally picks a man to marry before you allow yourself to do the same?”

  “I don’t know,” I say in all honesty. “I think she wants us to date eligible suitors together.”

  “You’re already in a relationship and it’s fucking exclusive,” he all but growls at me. “At least think about it, Charlotte. My offer stands. You want a way out, I’ll marry you and your entire family can just deal with it.”

  “Your very romantic offer of marriage is duly noted,” I reply dryly.

  He rocks against me, very deliberately, and I gasp. “Maybe I can change your mind.”

  “With sex?”

  “Oh yeah, lots and lots of sex,” he says before his mouth descends on mine.

  —

  Brooks doesn’t change my mind, but he does take my mind off things by keeping me so busy over the next two days that I can’t possibly think of love or marriage or even my parentage.

  Gen’s called twice, but I’ve ignored her calls. Even Colin and Theo have group texted me, and they hate those like the plague. I’ve responded to everyone with two sentences.

  I’m fine. See you soon.

  My entire world centers on the two of us: we swim, talk about everything as we walk along the shore, go hunting for sand dollars on Shell Island, and make love whenever the mood strikes—which in our case is all the time.

  “That’s a pretty smile,” Brooks says, as we stretch out in an enormous tub filled with bubbles. My feet can’t reach the other side, but the length is perfect for Brooks. When I asked why he needed such a large tub, he replied that even guys liked to work their muscles out and the standard five-and-half-foot tub didn’t cut it when you were almost six foot four.

  He holds up his mobile, taking a selfie of us. He’s taken a lot of those lately. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping this one to myself.” He slides his thumb over the screen, stopping on a picture of me on the balcony, staring off into the distance. The sun is setting and I’m wearing only his T-shirt. “This one is my favorite.”

  I gaze at my wistful face. “I look so lonely.”

  “Well, you were waiting for me at the time,” he teases, then slides his thumb over the screen again. This time it’s the two of us and I’m smiling as he kisses my cheek, his hand high the air so that camera is pointed down, at an angle to us. We look…like a couple in love.

  An everyday, ordinary couple in love.

  My heart twists in my chest, but I push that feeling away. Our time here is precious and short, no need to muck it up with what cannot be.

  I sit in his lap, wriggling my bare butt against him and smiling when he groans a little. “You can post what you like. I’m not ashamed of you.”

  He kisses my neck, moving my wet hair to one side as he begins nibbling on my ear. “I’m not posting pictures of you in this tub.” He cups my breasts with his big, capable hands. “These are for my eyes only.”

  Turning in his arms, I straddle him. “And your body is for my eyes only, so no more workout selfies.”

  My breasts are on eye level with him and, judging by the way he can’t stop staring at them, he’ll agree to anything. “My followers demand those.”

  Okay, so he’s
a better multitasker than I thought. I pout a little and he laughs before kissing me. “Not even if your biggest fan”—I point to myself—“says that if you do, she’ll make you very, very satisfied.”

  He raises his brows. “I’m listening.”

  “I thought we could start with a little of this.” I rock my hips, sliding my clit along his erection that’s growing harder by the second.

  His head falls back and he thrusts up. “What else you got for me?”

  “More of the same.” I close my eyes to the rhythm, grinding down each time my clit comes into contact fully with his hard length. He fists his hand in my hair, drawing me down to him and shoving his tongue into my mouth. I welcome it, tangling my tongue with his and wanting more.

  Lifting up a little, I slide down again, almost taking the head of him inside of me.

  He murmurs a curse, one hand sliding down my back to hold me in place for a second before he grabs my bum tightly. “You’re playing with fire, Charlotte.”

  “Don’t care.” I widen my stance and let gravity do the work, taking him inside where I’m so wet for him that not even the water and soap can wash it away.

  “Charlotte…shit…you feel so damn good.” His forehead comes to rest in the valley between my breasts, his hands tight on my back, molding me to him.

  I don’t stop moving, don’t stop making the water slosh around us. His mouth closes around one of my nipples, sucking hard and making me jump, then moan in pleasure.

  “I could get you pregnant, Princess,” he warns.

  “I know.” Well, I know now but I wasn’t thinking of that before. Who can think of anything in the heat of the moment?

  He thrusts up, sending his cock deep.

  I gasp.

  He laughs low in his throat.

  I place my hands on his shoulders and ride him harder, faster.

  His laugh turns into a moan.

  “You’ll have to marry me, if I do,” he says, but it sounds more like a promise.

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  He grabs my hair, winding it around his wrist and forcing me to look at him. The slight sting only makes me hotter for him. “When it comes to us, you have to do exactly as I say.”