The Throne

by Samantha Whiskey

  He muttered something but left us alone in the car, locking the doors with an audible click.

  The screen came to life in front of us, and Charlotte shifted in her seat.

  “Should we move up front?”

  “Nope,” I said, reaching behind us to bring out a bag full of snacks. “Popcorn, skittles, M&M’s, milk duds...what’s your poison?”

  “Anything chocolate, I guess,” she said, her voice more than a little tense.

  “That stick is worming it’s way up your ass again, Charlie.”

  She snorted. “I just figured we could see the movie better from the front seat.

  “Probably, but the back seat is the best place to experience the movie.” I moved the bag to the floor. Then I reached over and tugged Charlotte into my side, draping my arm around her shoulders. “See?”

  She tensed. “Friends, Jaime.”

  “Stick up your ass, Charlie.”

  She sagged into me with a chuckle, and I wanted to fist pump in victory. Her curves fit against me perfectly, her head resting in the curve of my shoulder like she’d always been meant to be there.

  We made it through the first half hour of the movie in that exact position, occasionally brushing hands when we both reached for popcorn.

  “This is nice,” Charlotte said softly, snuggling her head into me.

  “This is pretty perfect,” I agreed. Turning my head, I brushed my lips across her forehead, savoring the moment. We could have so many just like this if she’d just give me a chance. I could make her happy, give her everything she could ever want. Be whomever she needed.

  She shifted, looking up at me.

  Fuck me, those eyes were my undoing.

  In slow motion, I lowered my mouth to hers, giving her every opportunity to say no, to pull away.

  Finally our lips met, first the soft brush of invitation.

  “Tell me no,” I whispered.

  “We shouldn’t,” she answered, shifting so she could hold my face in her hands.

  “That’s not a no.”

  This time she kissed me, hot, hungry, and open-mouthed. My tongue swept inside her mouth, reclaiming it as my own. This was how I’d wanted to spend my week—with her. Not with five other women. This was how I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

  She moaned, shifting her hands to my hair.

  I gripped her ass and pulled her on top of me. Her breasts were so soft against my chest as she parted her thighs to straddle me. My fingers tangled in her hair as my tongue dueled with hers. Kissing Charlotte felt like the beginning of my life. Nothing mattered until this moment, and nothing would matter after if she walked away.

  “Wait,” she said, pushing back against my chest. Her breasts heaved with her rushed breaths. “Someone could see.”

  I slid my hands up her thighs until I gripped her waist. “That’s half the fun.”

  Desire shot through her eyes, but then she looked around us. “Jameson, I’m serious.”

  “Babe, the windows are blacked out. Superman himself could not see into this car.”

  As if that was the only confirmation she needed, her mouth crashed back into mine, and it was sweet. So fucking sweet. She rocked her hips over my growing erection, and I groaned. We were separated by only layers of clothing, and my first instinct was to rip hers off and thrust home, to claim this woman’s body the way she’d claimed my very soul.

  Her hands tugged at my tee shirt, and I obliged, pulling it over my head.

  “Holy. Shit.” Her eyes raked over my bare chest, down the lines of my abs. “I’ve always known that you’re gorgeous, but Jaime…” Her fingers drifted over my pecs, tracing every muscle. “You’re perfect.”

  “Perfect for you,” I said, and then kissed her, unable to hold back.

  Our kisses grew frantic, and when her hips began to rock over mine again, I gripped her lightly, shifting her so I’d hit against her inseam.

  This time, she groaned, throwing her head back.

  She was glorious. I’d never seen a woman so sensual, so lost to what we were doing. My dick screamed at me, begging for friction, for pressure, for anything Charlotte would offer. I thrust again, and Charlotte’s nails dug into my shoulders, no doubt leaving little crescent marks.

  “God, yes,” she moaned, as my hands cupped her breasts.

  “Exquisite.”

  “Yes. I want...I want…” she undulated, pushing her breasts into my hands at the same time she rolled over my cock.

  I felt like a high school kid, about one more dry hump away from coming.

  “What do you want, Charlie? Tell me. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you. Just ask. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

  She went rigid.

  “Oh my God. What am I doing? What are we doing?” she scrambled off my lap into the furthest corner of the backseat.

  “We were having the hottest makeout session of my life.” I turned to face her.

  “Jameson. You’re getting married in two and a half weeks.”

  “I am,” I agreed. To you.

  “And I’m...you’re...what are we doing?” Her hand flew to cover her face.

  I gently took her hand away so I could read her eyes. Charlotte was always so composed. She could play politics with the best, but her eyes were always a dead giveaway.

  “We’re doing whatever you want.”

  “Don’t mock me.”

  “I’m not.” Why couldn’t I be more eloquent? I needed the perfect thing to say, and nothing I thought of came close to what I was feeling. “We can be whatever you want.”

  “I’m serious, Jameson.” Flustered, she ran her hand over her hair. I couldn’t wait to wrap that hair around my hand while I took her from behind.

  “So am I. Yes, I have to get married. Yes, you’ve said you refuse to be the woman I marry. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are the only woman I want.”

  Her lips parted, her eyes huge as if for the first time she believed what I was saying.

  “We can be whatever you want, Charlie. You want to just be friends? I’ll probably die of sexual frustration, but I’ll honor your wishes. You want to make out in the back seat, then baby, my lap is yours. You want me to fuck you every day until you walk away? I’ll do that, too.”

  “Until I walk away…”

  My fingers trailed down the soft skin of her cheek. “You walking away is the only way you’re getting away from me because there’s zero chance I’d turn my back on you. On this. I’ve wanted you for too damn long.”

  “So what? I’m supposed to help you find a wife by day, and sleep with you by night? What does that make me?”

  “It makes you human. This is all your choice, Charlie. I’ll go with whatever you say. That’s how desperate I am for you, how badly I want you. I will take whatever you’re willing to give me for as long as you’ll give it for.”

  “Like I could ever keep up with you sexually,” she scoffed.

  “I have a feeling you could more than keep up with me. And if you’re worried, then I’ll teach you. I can show you ways to get off that you’ve never dreamed of.”

  “Whatever I want?” she clarified. “Even if it’s just kissing, or just...sex. No relationship, no falling in love. Just...physical.”

  I told my aching heart to shut the hell up. It didn’t matter if I loved her more than my own ambition, and she saw me as a sex toy. I wasn’t lying—I’d take her any way I could get her. If she only wanted sex, then I’d fuck her so well that she’d never leave. I’d brand her body with my own, until I was the only one she got wet for, the only one she could ever imagine being with.

  I’d used sex for so many things. For pleasure. For power. For a cure for boredom.

  But I’d never used it to win someone’s heart. But if it was my best weapon in the war for Charlotte’s heart, then it was a good thing I was more than up to task.

  “Well? For the first time in your life, you have a choice, Charlie. What’s it going to be?”

  Charlotte
/>
  Every cell in my body sparked, sizzled, and hummed under Jameson’s touch. It was a surprise at all I’d found a brain attached to my body and managed to scoot back in the seat enough to breathe. Nothing clogged my mind like the smell of Jaime—the crisp, clean, infuriatingly intoxicating scent of him.

  “This has been and will always be your choice,” he repeated, his eyes drifting down to where my chest heaved with my bated breaths.

  I ached in places I didn’t know could hurt so deliciously. The man did that to me with a kiss.

  I grazed my fingers over my swollen lips, the motion eliciting chills all over my body as I watched him watch me. And that is all he did. He waited, silently, his eyes charged and swirling, his perfect muscled body holding incredibly still as if he held his breath while I sorted out his offer in my head.

  He’s giving you a choice.

  I’d never had a choice. Since the day I was born, I was told how to act, what was and wasn’t acceptable to wear, to say, to listen to, to date, to watch…the list was never-ending. And while I loved my life, loved my country, and the beauty surrounding it, I wanted more.

  I wanted to have the freedom to choose who to love or who to…screw. Simply thinking the word had my over-sensitive insides wilting with shame. The reaction was unavoidable and completely mortifying. Now that I was no longer betrothed to Xander, I should be able to think about being with a man—in an intimate capacity—and not blush with shame. I should be able to let someone touch me without the fear of how it would affect the country and the people who depended—who would’ve depended upon me. I should be able to experience something magnificent…even if I knew it wouldn’t last.

  And Jaime was magnificent.

  I’d known that since I was thirteen years old. Even then he had the ability to make me laugh when no one could.

  He was due to marry a queen. And I no longer wanted that lifestyle. There was no denying the sexual chemistry that had built between us—hot and charged and writhing—over the past decade. Maybe it was just the forbidden aspect.

  You know better.

  Maybe it was because he had the ability to irritate me to no end.

  Maybe it's because he’s always seen you.

  Maybe I didn’t care anymore. Maybe I needed this. We needed this. A few stolen weeks of mad as hell passion to get each other out of our systems.

  Then he could go and be King and I could…

  Something cold slipped in my blood, threatening to steal the simmering warmth that had gathered somewhere between seeing Jaime step out of the ocean, dripping wet, glistening in the sun when we were thirteen, and just now, where he’d had me pinned, kissing the breath out of me.

  “Yes,” I whispered, and Jaime’s entire body jolted like I’d screamed the word.

  Slowly, like a stalking lion, he slid across the seat, closer to me. His eyes held my gaze, the churning heat making my stomach flip.

  “Say it again,” he demanded.

  I nodded, then straightened my spine enough to give me the courage to say the words. “Touch me, Jaime. I know we can’t have more…but I want…”

  “What?” He whispered, trailing his nose along my jaw, the gentle touch making my eyes close.

  “You. I want you,” I managed to say as he slipped a strong hand behind my back.

  “I’ve always wanted you,” he said, inhaling so deeply I was sure he could smell the anxiety building in my chest.

  He knew I was a virgin, sure, but he had no idea I’d never let anyone close enough to…take me anywhere. Not even myself. I’d tried, once or twice, between my own silk sheets during the long, cold nights, but I’d never been able to complete the task. And it was…a task. Battling the disgraceful words from the voice in my head, the one that shouted a queen doesn’t do such things, a proper Duchess would never be so selfish to enjoy her own flesh.

  Would he be able to tell that I was clueless when it came to this?

  He was a master at it…so who better to indulge with than him?

  “Charlie,” he growled my name, and I snapped my eyes open.

  He smirked, nipping at my bottom lip before gently kissing my forehead. The contrast between the lion he was and the lover he acted like was exhilarating and confusing all at once.

  “Stay with me,” he said, never breaking our locked gaze.

  I tilted my head, my entire body aligned with his as he pressed against me.

  “Don’t get lost up here,” he said, smoothing his fingers over my forehead where he’d kissed me. “Get lost with me, here.” He glanced down and planted soft kisses over my neck before settling between my breasts that were tight and heavy and dying for his attention.

  As if the man had a direct line to my thoughts, he slipped his hand under my henly and palmed my breast over the lacy fabric of my bra. A heated sigh left his lips as he claimed my mouth, all the while he rolled and teased my nipple until I arched underneath him.

  The motion connected my hips with his, and I gasped from the feel of him. He was rock hard and the heat soaked right through the fabric of my jeans.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, pressing harder against my aching center. “Charlie.”

  I sucked his tongue into my mouth, both loving and hating the nickname. Both needing to hear him gasp it and wanting to make him stop. He was everything I wanted, and nothing I needed, but good God the man made my body sing.

  Your heart, too.

  I bit down on his bottom lip, burying the voice in my head that kept trying to turn this into something more. Something acceptable. Jaime wasn’t acceptable. He was fucking brilliant, and I may not be able to hold the interest of a man like him for long, but damn it I would soak up his glory while I had the chance.

  Proper, frigid, example be damned.

  I wanted this man like a dying woman’s last breath.

  I needed him to be the one to make me fly for the first time.

  Sure, I knew he’d set a bar that wouldn’t ever be reached by another man, but I didn’t care. I was so done caring. All I wanted to do now was feel. And the only thing I wanted to think, smell, or feel was Jaime.

  With two strong motions, I was on my back, the leather of the seat squeaking a bit from the fast movement. Jaime slid his hands over the button and zipper of my jeans, and I nodded at his questioning gaze. He popped my jeans open in a flash, the zipper down just as quickly. He cocked an eyebrow at me as he slowly, agonizingly pulled the fabric down until it had reached beneath hips.

  He growled. “Fucking lace. I knew. God, Charlie, you’re going to turn me into a teenager again.”

  I couldn’t help but smile up at him. “How’s that?”

  He sucked on his bottom lip for a second before smirking at me. “The sight of you, like this? Makes me want to come so quickly I could be a kid again.”

  Heat flushed my skin from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. “Then we better hurry.” My voice was small, too soft, but my heart was too big in my throat. I wanted him to take what I’d kept too pristine for too long. I trusted him more than I’d ever trusted anyone. And now that I’d decided he was the one to have it, I wanted him to take it…now.

  He tsked me, shaking his head as he rubbed his huge hands up and down my thighs in an easy glide. Up and down, up and down. Touching every area but the one I desperately needed him to.

  “I’d never rush a thing with you,” he said, inching closer to my lace panties. He leaned lower, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. “I’ve wanted this for longer than I can remember,” he said, slipping one finger beneath the hem of lace. “Forgive me if I want to savor you.”

  You. Not it.

  Not the experience of finally crossing prim and proper Charlotte off his extensive bedded list.

  My heart flipped and sputtered and then quit beating altogether when his fingers found my center.

  “Oh, fuck,” he said, and his body quivered on top of mine. One quick muscle rolling shudder that I felt over every inch of my skin. “You’re soaked.”
/>   I arched upward, greedy for his touch. “I told you I want you.”

  Something like pride and want and lust flashed in his eyes before he crushed his mouth on mine. I breathed him in and clung to him as he slipped one finger inside me, the movement so gentle and yet strong and with enough power to shock my entire body.

  He traced the edges of my teeth with his tongue, rolling his fingers between my warmth, pressing in and out, the pressure always too light.

  I lifted my hips again, never breaking our kiss, but needing more.

  He jerked his head back, his eyes wild, some barely held restraint desperate to break free. “Charlie,” he said, and I unraveled at the way he said my name.

  “More,” I begged, and he smirked, keeping his eyes on me as he expertly slid another finger inside me. The fit was snug but teased the ache that pulsed there so much it hurt.

  He pumped his fingers, lightly circling his thumb over a small bundle of nerves that ignited every sensory receptor I possessed. I gasped, arching into him, silently pleading for him to go faster, go harder. I rolled my hips against his hand as he curled his fingers inside me in a come-hither motion, and it made my body tremble.

  “There you are,” he said, his eyes never leaving my face though I kept losing his. Arching, sighing, moaning.

  “God, Jaime.” I was no longer tied to my body yet I could feel everything at once. And it was all too much and not enough. “Please.”

  “Say it,” he demanded, and the order in his tone snapped my eyes to him. “Tell me what you need.”

  “You,” I moaned. “God, please. I can’t take it…please, Jaime.” My words were unrestrained and drenched in desire, but I couldn’t formulate anything more articulate. Gone were my decades of speech decorum. Disappeared was the playful banter I’d kept up with this man since we were kids. I was at his mercy, and it was terrifying how much I needed him in that moment. How, until then, I hadn’t realized just how desperate I was to be set free.

  All my life I’d been in a box. A cage. And while I could appreciate the reasons, hell, even respect the duty that came with this life…I wanted Jaime to shatter me.

  “Charlie.” He sighed, and it was equal parts endearing and primal as he slammed his thumb over that ultra-sensitive spot and claimed my mouth at the same time.