The Throne

by Samantha Whiskey

She glanced around like she’d just realized where we were, and then snapped her gaze back to mine. “You need my advice.”

  “Sure. Point out the bitches, or the ones you know I’ll walk all over. Point out the ones you know I won’t be attracted to, or the ones who are just after the crown. But you don’t get to point out the ones you think I should marry.”

  “I’m sorry?” Her eyes sparkled with indignation. “You have to marry someone in three and a half weeks, Jameson. Don’t you think it would be easier if it was someone you know had the approval of the women in your life? Or is my opinion not valid?”

  “My mom, my sisters, hell, even Georgia can point out who they think will fit. They can give me their recommendations, but not you,” I seethed, knowing damn well I sounded like a jackass.

  “Oh, really? Because I’m not qualified? Because you don’t care what I think?”

  “Because you’re basically telling me who to fuck!”

  Her posture went rigid, and she blinked rapidly.

  “Or does that get you off? Telling me who to put into my bed?” I stalked forward, and she retreated. “Who to kiss? Who to touch? Who to put my mouth on night after night, mornings, afternoons, anytime I need her...anytime she needs me. I’m not going to take a mistress, Charlie. The woman I crown as my Queen will be the only woman I sleep with. The only woman I make love to. The only woman I fuck. And just as much as her body will be mine to worship, my body will be hers to own.” She bumped into the counter, and raised her chin as I came closer. “Is that really a recommendation you want to make? Knowing how I feel about you?”

  Our bodies brushed, her breasts rubbing against my chest.

  “You want to fuck me.”

  God, that word out of her mouth...it shot straight to my dick like an aphrodisiac.

  “Always have,” I admitted as my hands found the sweet flare of her hips.

  She gasped as we collided, and I knew she could feel how hard I was for her. I reveled in the fact that I didn’t have to hide it from her. She wasn’t my brother’s betrothed.

  “Jameson…” My name was a whisper on her lips.

  I pounced, kissing her hard.

  She tensed, and I immediately softened my mouth, sucking her lower lip into my mouth and gently running my tongue across the tender flesh. I drew that one motion out as long as possible, until I pulled back to look into her eyes.

  There was confusion there...surprise and a little anger, too. But there was also hunger and longing. I knew because the same emotions echoed in me.

  She glanced to my lips, back up and repeated.

  Then she was kissing me, her mouth urgent and needy. These weren’t small, sipping kisses. These were as demanding as her hands were, threading into my hair.

  Holy shit. I was kissing Charlotte.

  Well, Charlotte was kissing me.

  With a primal growl, I lifted her by her hips so she sat on the counter, then spread her thighs with one hand and stepped between them.

  My tongue traced the line of her lips, but she didn’t open.

  God, had she been kissed? I knew she’d dated other guys briefly, but how far had she taken it?

  I shifted my hands to her ass and pulled her flush against me. Thank God for the height of the counter, she hit my stomach. I ground my dick against the cabinet and told it to behave.

  “Open for me, Charlotte,” I begged against her mouth, unwilling to pull back, to give her a minute to reconsider. If this was the one time I’d get my hands on her, I was going to press every advantage. I’d show her what we could be like together. “Let me in.”

  Her lips parted, and I sank my tongue inside her mouth. Fuck, she was sweet and tasted just like her tea. She moaned, her fingers tightening their grip in my hair. I couldn’t wait to hear that sound when I finally got my head between her thighs. Not today, but soon.

  She was mine, and I was hers, whether or not she realized it.

  She arched against me, her breasts soft against my chest, the silk of her blouse so thin that I knew I’d be able to feel her nipple harden if I took the weight in my hand.

  Our tongues rubbed, swirled, danced around each other. I licked at every line of her mouth, every crevice until I knew it as well as my own. Then I sucked her tongue into my mouth, and she whimpered.

  She wasn’t a passive kisser. Hell no. I’d jokingly called her frigid once, but I’d been so fucking wrong. She was fire in my hands, her thighs wrapping around my hips, rocking her hips slowly against me.

  I ripped my mouth from hers and kissed a line down her jaw, stopping to bite gently on her ear. “You’re fucking perfect, Charlotte,” I whispered.

  She shuddered lightly, and I continued, licking a path down her neck just like I’d fantasized in the conference room. She arched wildly, and I returned to that spot, licking and sucking lightly until she damn-near writhed. “So sensitive,” I praised.

  Her hands held my head to her neck like she was afraid I’d move back if she let go, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Ever. I could die right here in this room with her under my mouth, my tongue, and be a happy man.

  Fuck it, Sophie could rule in my stead.

  My hand drifted over her waist until I cupped the exquisite curve of her breast. She felt better than I’d ever imagined, especially when she shifted so she could push more of her breast into my hand. I ran my thumb over the silk blouse, and I’d been right. The material was so light, so delicate that I could feel the outline of the lace bra she wore beneath.

  Maybe my Charlie has an underwear fetish.

  She hissed when I found her puckered nipple and lightly pinched it, rolling it through the fabric. I couldn’t wait to get my tongue here, to feel her squirm when I’d pull it into my mouth. But I was aware of my surroundings, and sending Charlotte back out there with a wet mark on her blouse would set the gossip flying.

  And I’d be damned if anyone talked about her like that.

  “Jaime,” she groaned, and I kissed her again, needing back in her mouth more than I needed oxygen. I fucked her with my tongue, deep, rhythmic slides that mimicked what I was desperate to do with my cock.

  Her hips rocked against me in the same rhythm, and I nearly pulled her off the counter and dry-fucked her like I was back in high school.

  “More,” she pleaded, her voice nearly ripping an orgasm from me.

  A single kiss had never strung me out this bad. Sure, I excelled at foreplay, always made sure my partner was ready for me, but this was different. Kissing Charlotte wasn’t foreplay. It felt more intimate than the act itself.

  My hand left her breast, and they both landed on the silk of her stockings just above her knee. Without breaking our kiss, I slid my hands up, under her skirt and gritted my teeth as my dick screamed for more.

  Fuck, the skin of her thighs was even softer than the silk of her blouse. I squeezed lightly as she used my own move on me, sucking my tongue into her mouth in silent demand. Her nails bit into the skin of my neck, and there was only one word rocketing through my brain. More.

  God, her skin. Her smooth, soft, warm….bare skin. I groaned when I brushed the straps that held her stockings up. She had on a fucking garter belt, not full pantyhose. God, I could brush her panties aside and be inside her with a few motions.

  “So fucking sexy,” I whispered.

  She whimpered in reply, spreading her thighs even wider. “Jaime?” She questioned like she didn’t feel the electricity between us, the tension building.

  But I did.

  I only needed a few more minutes, and I’d have my sweet, stubborn, off-limits Charlotte coming all over my fingers, and her reaction just told me it would be her first.

  Three knocks sounded on the door, and her body went rigid.

  Her hands slid from my neck.

  No, no, no.

  “This had better be an emergency,” I barked.

  “Just letting you know that everyone took off for lunch,” Brie said, her voice louder than it needed to be. “So, you know...we’ll
be back once you’re done with your...discussion.”

  “Got it,” I snapped.

  I tilted Charlotte’s head to dive in for another kiss, but her eyes were closed tight, her lips flat and pursed, the muscles in her body as hard as my dick, her hands clenched in fists.

  “Charlotte,” I whispered, hoping to get her back, but the moment was gone.

  Her eyes opened, but the passion was gone, replaced by a mix of accusation and guilt.

  Fuck that.

  “Do not look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” she asked, those damnable walls going up all around her.

  “Like you didn’t feel exactly what I did. Like you don’t want me just as badly as I want you.” I pushed at her emotions, silently begging her to admit our connection, to embrace the very thing we’d covered with animosity for the last fifteen years.

  She pushed at my chest, and I sighed in defeat, stepping back from the cradle of her thighs. She promptly slid from the counter, landing as gracefully on her heels as if she’d been wearing Chucks, and smoothed the lines of her skirt.

  “Well, that was certainly…” Her chin rose as she struggled with her words, her composure.

  “Perfect? Hot? Fucking incredible?”

  “Ill-advised.”

  I might have told her to fuck off and left her standing there, but her hand slightly trembled as she brushed a non-existent loose strand of hair behind her ears.

  She was rattled, and nothing rattled Charlotte.

  Except me.

  “Bullshit. It was exactly what I knew it would be. Explosive. You can fight it, deny it all you want, but I tasted your desire, felt your nipples harden, held your hips as you rubbed against me, looking for a little relief.”

  “Jameson,” she hissed, color blooming in her cheeks.

  I took the step that separated us, until our bodies were flush again. If I had to fuck this woman into believing me, I would. I would use every weapon in my arsenal to keep her, and when it came to sex, I was locked and loaded.

  “I bet if I slid my hands under your panties right now, you’d be soaked. Wet, and slippery from nothing but a few kisses because that’s how damn good we are together. I don’t want any of those girls on that board, Charlie. I want you.”

  I knew she was shaken because she didn’t even hiss at me for calling her that, just shook her head at me.

  “You want what you can’t have,” she accused but didn’t move. We were so close our foreheads nearly touched, her breath hitting my lips in spurts that tasted like the peppermint of her tea. “You don’t want me. You want what’s untouched. You want to dirty up what you find so pristine. You want the ultimate notch on your bedpost, the one girl you couldn’t have. Don’t ever forget that I know you, Jaime.” Her soft words were at odds with the fire in her eyes.

  “I want you. Do I think it’s sexy as fuck that you’re a virgin?” Gripping her hip with one hand, I ran my thumb across her lips with the other, aching to kiss her again. “Yes. But don’t think that I would care if you weren’t. Even if you’d slept with half the damn country, I would still want you. I want your tongue in my mouth, your hair loose on my pillow, your sharp comments keeping me in line. The fact that no one has ever given you an orgasm doesn’t play into that equation, but believe me, I’m more than happy to hand them out like candy at Christmas if you’ll let me. Just admit that you want me, too.”

  “What I want doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “It never has. Not to you, not to Xander, not to everyone who signed me over like I was a herd of sheep.”

  She pushed, and I stepped back, even though it killed me a little inside.

  She left me standing in the fucking prep room while she exited like the queen she was meant to be, her head held high.

  I took deep breaths, calming my heart, and my need to destroy something. Once I was calm, I walked out to find Brie leaned up against the wall, a knowing smirk on her face.

  “Seriously, Brie? You have no idea what you just fucked up.” If she’d waited another three minutes, I’d have had Charlotte keening, coming, satisfied.

  “I know exactly what I just fucked up,” she said, pushing off the wall. “I stopped you from fucking it up.”

  “You could hear us?” I guessed.

  She shook her head. “These rooms are damn near soundproof unless you’re up against the door like I was when I stopped you. No one heard anything.”

  “Then how—”

  She laughed, but it sounded sad. “Jameson, I know you better than any of your siblings. You don’t think I see how you look at her? How you’ve always looked at her?”

  I blinked and swallowed, trying to come up with a reply. “She was Xander’s.”

  “And you loved her anyway,” she said, no judgment in her voice.

  I neither confirmed nor denied.

  Now she was the one sighing. “Jaime, if she’s what you want, you have a legitimate shot with her.”

  “She doesn’t want me.”

  “Oh, I saw her face when she left. She most certainly does. But I can tell you as a woman in our boy-worshipping monarchy, she’s not in any hurry to saddle herself to another contract.”

  “Then what the fuck am I supposed to do, Brie? Marry one of these other girls?” I motioned to the wall.

  “Fight for her. Go to war for Charlotte. Give her whatever she wants—the one thing no one else ever has.”

  “And what is that? Please tell me something that one of the richest women in the world doesn’t have.”

  Brie’s eyes flashed with sadness before she quickly cloaked the emotion.

  “A choice. Give her the freedom of a choice.”

  She spun on her heel and left me standing alone. I stared at the nameless faces on the wall, from the timid Lady Katherine to the forward Lady Caroline.

  Fuck this. I could still taste Charlotte, could still feel her skin under my fingertips, hear her moans in my ear. If she’d just give me a chance, she’d see how much I needed her, wanted her. How good we could be together. She’d see everything I could bring to her life.

  A lightbulb went off in my head like I was fucking Edison.

  Give her whatever she wants—the one thing no one else ever has.

  I knew exactly how to get Charlotte.

  Charlotte

  Thirteen hours, and I couldn’t stop my fingers from trembling. Couldn’t stop the adrenaline that coursed through my veins each time my mind provided the hot memory of Jaime’s lips on mine. His touch, his scent, his…power.

  He transformed you.

  I scooted away from my desk in the room I’d occupied every time I stayed at the palace, and paced the length of the room. The hardwood floor was cold against my bare feet, but I welcomed the shock. The heat from our kiss coated my skin like a flame throbbing from underneath the surface, and no matter what I did to chill the fire…it persisted.

  Just like Jaime. I’d spent years both hating and loving him—hating him for how he pushed me away, hating the situation, hating that he had a choice in who he was allowed to love and I didn’t. And now our roles were reversed. Though, he’d been offered more of a choice than I ever had.

  I spun on my heels, returning to my desk to scoop up the iPad. Down to six ladies now, or was it four? The meeting yesterday was a blur, all scrambled and jolted by Jaime’s kiss. His presence. The way he’d touched me, the way he’d unraveled me with just his lips. For those few moments, I hadn’t been Duchess Charlotte Carlisle of Corbin.

  I’d been desirable. Wanted. Needed. Possibly even craved.

  I’d been his Charlie.

  A warm shudder rippled deep in my core, pure exhilaration at getting lost between his hands, his lips.

  I focused on the screen, the lady’s names ready for further investigation on my end. Reality was a cold, cruel bitch sometimes. Not that I’d ever dare say that outside the people within my trusted circle—which was few. Jaime was one of them—one of the only people in the entire world that I could be completel
y un-Queen-like around and never fear his judgment. Sure, he could call me frigid and make jokes at my expense, but he never judged. He never calculated. He didn’t use people for stepping stones. He didn’t need to.

  No, he uses women for sex.

  I clenched my eyes shut, flinching from the thought as I sank into the chair before my desk. I set down the tablet, unable to drag my finger across the screen and do the job I promised him I’d do.

  How could I after that kiss? After what he said?

  I shook my head, scraping my nails against my scalp in order to get some relief. Tension coiled inside me like a spring, and I was pulled so taut I was terrified for whoever I’d explode on the next time someone flung a backhanded comment my way.

  Maybe I’d get lucky, and it’d be one of the many reporters who scribbled gibberish about my “place” in the palace.

  The former betrothed puts the “whore” in “wholesome.”

  Twin brother’s leftovers rejected as our new soon-to-be King hosts fifty of Elleston’s classiest.

  Jameson never met a woman he didn’t bed, until Duchess of Carlisle…

  I groaned, forcing the tabloid trash out of my head. The media could speculate all they wanted. I was never going to be a handoff to Jaime, no matter what everyone may have thought. I was done living in the public eye, done preparing for a role I’d never fill.

  Just make it through the next three weeks and then…

  What?

  Anything. Any damn thing I wanted.

  And I’d start with the invitation to head up the Foundation for Women’s Progression. They’d already approached me after they discovered I wouldn’t be continuing my pursuit of the throne.

  After spending my entire life being told what I’d do with my life, it was nice to entertain the idea of choosing for myself. Being chairman of the foundation would be an honor, a place where I could put my skills and station to use for the greater good of Elleston.

  Though, I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t sad about not getting to be Elleston’s Queen—I loved this country; its people, its heritage—but I’d adjust. Pursue dreams of my own, like the foundation.

  I used to dream all the time before I turned thirteen and was told I’d be marrying Xander.