Double Dirty Royals: An MFM Menage Romance

by Parker Grey

  “I was thinking about your cock,” I admit. Bruno pushes his finger further, licking me even harder and faster, and I grab handfuls of the chair stuffing, now panting for breath.

  “What about my cock?” Dom asks, teasing me.

  Bruno puts another finger in my ass and I moan, arching, as he licks me within an inch of coming.

  “That feels so good,” I whimper. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

  “Tell us what you want, Princess,” Dom murmurs.

  “I want you to fuck my ass,” I say, my voice barely a whimper as Bruno becomes merciless, licking and sucking, both fingers moving hard, deep inside my ass. “Please, Dom, I want you to take me, come inside me, make me yours.”

  Bruno sucks hard on my clit just then, and I come shouting their names, one leg thrown over the back of the chair. When I finish, Bruno stands and pulls his fingers out, kissing me slowly on my hips, my belly, while Dom has my mouth.

  After a moment, they both stand, pulling me to my feet, one on either side. I kiss them both, hard, and they take their pants off, cocks thick and hard and ready.

  Then Dom grabs me, tosses me over his shoulder, and carries me to my bed. I’m used to it by now, and Bruno follows, setting something on my bedside table as Dom puts me down on my side, then gets in behind me, his thick cock bumping against my thighs.

  I hear a bottle open and close, and then he’s sliding slippery fingers along my clit and pussy, all the way to my back hole, where he pushes one finger inside, then two.

  I gasp, pushing back against his hand. Bruno’s in front of me, and he pulls my knee onto his hip, then kisses me slowly, massaging my clit.

  A third finger nudges at my back entrance, then slowly slips inside. I gasp at the mix of pain and pleasure, but then it gives way to just pleasure and I moan, one hand in Bruno’s hair, pushing my ass back against Dom.

  This is unbelievably dirty. I’m begging someone to fuck my ass, the desire pounding through my veins. I shouldn’t be having sex with anyone, definitely not two people, and I definitely should not be having anal sex.

  It simply isn’t done.

  “Beg me again,” Dom growls in my ear, working his fingers in my ass while Bruno’s fingers circle my clit, tendrils of pleasure already snaking through my whole body. “Tell me how bad you want your virgin ass fucked, Princess.”

  “Please, Dom,” I gasp.

  His fingers push even deeper, and I moan.

  “Fill me up and make me come,” I whisper.

  At last, he pulls his fingers out. I can hear him pouring lube on his cock, and I hold my breath, eyes half-open with pleasure. Bruno just watches me, smiling lazily.

  Dom teases me, slipping the head of his cock between my lips, just barely nudging it inside me for a moment. Even though it’s not what I want I exhale hard, because I’m desperate for relief.

  But then it’s there, at my back entrance. Bruno uses one hand to brace my hip as Dom circles my tight bud, then finally pushes slowly against it.

  It feels like nothing else, not even being fucked with their fingers. I’m totally helpless as Dom’s cock stretches me wider and wider, millimeter by millimeter. He’s enormous, way bigger than any number of fingers, and it feels like everything around me goes hazy.

  I’m caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, trying to force my body to relax and take him, and it feels good even as I’m balanced right on that precarious edge of pain.

  Then, suddenly, I can feel the head of his cock come through the thick ring of muscle, and it doesn’t hurt any more. Not even close.

  “Your ass is so fucking tight I might come inside it right now,” Dom whispers roughly in my ear. “You feel so good, Princess.”

  My eyelids are fluttering, my hands on Bruno’s head as he watches me, his hand still on my clit.

  “Please don’t stop,” I whimper.

  He doesn’t. Dom kisses the back of my neck and then starts fucking me, slow and gentle. He doesn’t hilt himself right away, just thrusts shallowly, gradually, letting me take more and more in with every stroke until I’m moaning nonstop, totally wordless with pleasure.

  I had no idea this could feel so good. I wanted it, but I didn’t know it would be like this, Dom’s thick cock finding new, dirty pleasure spots that I didn’t know I had. Soon he’s fucking my ass slow but hard, making sure I feel every inch of him as he slides in and out.

  The tendrils of pleasure that were snaking through my body have grown, and now they’re threatening to overwhelm me, even though this is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I can’t even tell if I’m already coming or whether I’m going to come.

  I just know this feels so, so fucking good and brand new.

  “Come for me, Princess,” Dom growls. “I want to be in your ass when you come.”

  “Dom,” I gasp. “I don’t know...”

  Then it happens, like a bolt of lightning. Dom thrusts hard, going balls-deep in my ass, and I shout, Bruno’s fingers working my clit furiously. My whole body jolts and shakes, my vision going white, electric shocks rocking through me before they finally subside.

  As soon as they do, Dom holds me close, buried inside me, and instantly I can feel his thick cock spurt and pump into me.

  I bite my lip, looking right into Bruno’s eyes, but he’s smiling.

  “That was sexy as hell,” he says, and kisses me.

  After a moment, Dom pulls out, kissing the back of my neck, my shoulder, wrapping one arm around me. Bruno’s plundering my mouth, his hand still between my legs, and I take his cock in my hand and stroke it.

  “Princess,” he murmurs, kissing me softly.

  “Hm?”

  “Roll over.”

  I blink, my brain still not really functioning.

  “Why?”

  He strokes his thumb along one cheekbone.

  “Because it’s my turn to fuck your ass,” he says, so sweetly and gently that for a moment I think I’m making it up.

  But then Bruno grabs my shoulder and pushes me onto the bed, pushing my knees apart and taking my shoulder in one hand. I push myself up on my elbows as he grabs both my ass cheeks in his hands, squeezing hard.

  Next to me, Dom rolls onto his side. His cock is soft, but he slides a hand underneath me and starts working my clit, giving me a deep kiss as he does.

  Bruno leans over, and I feel the tip of his cock trace the line of my lower back.

  “Watching you come when he fucks you is incredible,” he murmurs. “But the only thing I think I like better is making you come myself.”

  He pushes the tip of his cock against my back hole, and I moan as he slides in. It’s a little easier than Dom’s cock, but I can still feel myself stretch and stretch, almost to the point of pain, and then—

  Oh, my God, this feels good.

  Bruno’s not as slow or gentle as Dom was, but he doesn’t need to be. He slides his thick, long cock all the way into my ass on the first stoke and I groan, making some sort of barnyard animal noise. After he hilts himself he stops for a moment, breathing hard.

  “I can’t last long fucking your ass like this, Princess,” he says. “You’re so tight and so perfect that I’m gonna come soon.”

  I think I just moan, and then Bruno pulls out, thrusts in again, and starts fucking my ass. There’s nothing slow or gradual about it, and within seconds he’s practically pounding me, Dom’s fingers still on my clit.

  It’s incredible. It’s dirty beyond belief to let two men fuck my ass in the same night, but I don’t care. I like it, because it’s them, and because everything they do to me feels better than I could have imagined.

  In moments, the heat and electricity are building inside me yet again and then they break over me. I turn my head to one side, moaning.

  “Harder,” I whimper. “Please, Bruno.”

  He grabs my hair and hammers himself into me, and I come so hard I nearly have an out of body experience. The bedspread is in my fists, my face buried in the comforter as I shout.
>
  Within seconds Bruno is unloading himself in my ass with pump after pump, until he’s finally spent and collapses on top of me. I turn my head and look at Dom, who rolls over and kisses me.

  I smile at him, and he smiles back.

  “I shouldn’t like watching Bruno ride your ass as much as I do, but you’re so beautiful when you lose control that I can’t help it,” he says, his voice nearly a whisper. “Think we can keep this our dirty little secret?”

  He takes my hand, winding our fingers together. On top of me, Bruno turns his head and slides his hand over the other side of mine, so now my hand is sandwiched between theirs.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I can keep this our secret.”

  Minutes later, Bruno rolls off of me and I fall asleep between them, wound in both their arms.

  When I was a little girl, this wasn’t what I imagined for myself.

  But now, I can’t imagine anything else.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dominic

  “We can’t keep doing this,” Bruno says to me, one morning. We’re sitting together out on a terrace, overlooking the beautiful mountain country of Tomassia, drinking coffee before breakfast.

  I take a long sip of coffee, because I know exactly what he means. We can’t keep sneaking around with the Crown Princess like this, because as much as I love everything that we do together, I hate that we have to keep it secret.

  I want Katarina to be ours in public. Everyone needs to know that the Princess belongs to us and no one else. I want to be by her side, all the time, every day. Not just in the dead of night.

  I’m in love with the Princess. We’re in love with the Princess.

  And we’re going to marry her. I’m not sure exactly how, but we’re completely determined to make it work.

  “I don’t know how to ask her father for her hand,” I admit. “He doesn’t like either of us to begin with, he’s always surrounded by an armed guard, and he’s an old-fashioned bastard.”

  “Hey, that’s my future father-in-law you’re talking about,” Bruno deadpans.

  “Then you’ve got an idea?”

  Bruno sighs.

  “No,” he says. “Maybe the only way is to just go in and ask.”

  “What if we just ran away and married her?”

  “You mean what if one of us ran away and married her,” he points out. “If we did that, one of us would be escorted to the border by an armed guard, and Katarina would likely be disowned. She can’t marry us both. Not yet.”

  We haven’t even brought this up to Katarina yet. I’ve been meaning to, but our time together is so limited — and we never seem to end up talking.

  “Maybe the Princess would have some thoughts,” I say. “If we can talk without fucking for fifteen minutes, anyway. After all, he is her—”

  “Is this bachelor’s corner? Mind if I join?” says a slimy, nasal voice behind me.

  Bruno and I both turn our heads. Sven is standing there, wearing sunglasses, his scalp shining through his dark hair, his white linen shirt unbuttoned to the top of his hairy, paunchy belly. He’s accompanied by a retinue of guards, hanging ten feet behind him. I don’t think he goes anywhere without those guys — probably because he couldn’t defend himself from a basket of puppies.

  We’re nothing if not well-bred, so we move our coffee cups and make a space for him at the table.

  “I love a vacation, but I’m just about done with this place,” he says, sitting heavily. “Bunch of backwards, inbred morons with terrible food. Women are pretty, though,” he says, scratching his belly.

  Bruno and I exchange a look.

  “I’m rather enjoying my stay,” I say.

  It’s not worth getting angry with him, I tell myself. He’s a stupid oaf, insulting our hosts right in their own home.

  “Of course you are, you’re from San Javier,” he says, grinning unpleasantly. “Hey, here’s a joke I heard the other day. What kind of baby do you have if you fuck a woman from San Javier?”

  Rage starts simmering in my belly, and I squeeze my coffee cup, trying to contain myself.

  “What kind?” I say, already knowing that the answer will piss me off.

  “A foal!” He says, laughing so hard he slaps his knee. “Get it, because your women are so ugly they look like horses? Ha!”

  It takes every fucking ounce of self-control I have not to smash his face in with my coffee cup.

  “Calm down, jeez, can’t you take a joke?” he asks, grinning like an asshole. “But seriously, I can see why you two came to make a bid for the Princess. Sorry about that, fellows.”

  Bruno leans back, a look on his face somewhere between anger at this idiot and amusement that Sven is such an idiot.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For getting the Princess,” he says.

  We’re both dead silent.

  “I really lucked out,” he goes on, completely fucking oblivious. “Marry the pretty Crown Princess, whelp a few heirs on her, and then when she gets fat and those nice tits start to sag, the kingdom is just full of pretty ladies who I’m sure wouldn’t turn down their Prince Consort.”

  “You need to leave,” Bruno says, his voice dangerous and quiet.

  Sven frowns, too dumb to even hear the threat in Bruno’s voice.

  “Why?”

  “You’re not welcome to insult the Princess in front of us,” he goes on. “And because I don’t care how many fucking guards you’ve got, not a single one will get to you before I break your goddamn nose in.”

  Sven looks confused, then angry, then insulted, then confused again.

  “Come on. We’re all the same here, you know, marry a woman so she can have your babies and then other women for fun?”

  He tries to smile ingratiatingly, but I see red and get to my feet, knocking over my chair.

  “You don’t deserve Katarina,” I growl. “You don’t deserve to be near her. You don’t deserve to touch a single fucking hair on her head, to breathe the same air as her. Now get the fuck out of here.”

  Sven stands, holding his hands out, palms toward me, like he can somehow calm me down.

  “Okay, okay,” he says. “Not into a little guy talk, I guess.”

  We don’t say anything, just glare, Bruno also on his feet. Sven puts his hands by his sides.

  “But that sweet little thing is practically already mine, so maybe I’ll send your shitty kingdoms a postcard when I pop her cherry.”

  Sven turns and walks off, and I fight the urge to follow him, no matter how satisfying punching him in the goddamn face might be. Getting arrested and then deported isn’t exactly in my plans.

  “We have to do something,” Bruno growls.

  “Today,” I say. “We ask the King for her hand today.”

  Then we look at each other, because we still don’t know how the fuck to do that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bruno

  A few hours later, we’re sitting together in the throne room, waiting to be granted an audience with King Edward.

  I still don’t know what I’m going to say. It’s already a bad sign that we have to wait for an audience with everyone else, but we didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

  Storming into a king’s business office and demanding that he meet with you, right then and there, isn’t a very good way to be granted his daughter’s hand in marriage. Especially not if there’s two of you.

  “If we have to elope, maybe we can flip a coin over who’s her husband and who’s her piece on the side,” Dominic says dryly.

  “Not funny.”

  “The loser could take some sort of job here,” he goes on. “Ambassador to Tomassia, maybe.”

  I clench my jaw together, my insides boiling. I need Katarina to be mine, officially, for everyone to know it.

  I love her. I want her, and I need her, and if I had to be her piece on the side, no matter what the true circumstances were, I think it might kill me.

  “So you’re saying you wouldn’t mind b
eing the Princess’s unofficial boyfriend while I was Prince Consort Bruno?” I ask, my voice tight.

  Dom looks over at me, a smile around his eyes.

  “Bruno, I’m kidding,” he says. “Trying to inject a little levity here. Calm down.”

  I sigh, folding my arms in front of me.

  “Maybe try a knock-knock joke instead,” I mutter.

  A door opens at the back of the throne room. There are maybe a dozen people in here, all waiting for an audience with the king, scattered around the seats.

  And we all stand when we see that it’s Princess Katarina, wearing a blue sundress, walking down the center. She nods at everyone, but comes up to us.

  “Prince Bruno, Prince Dominic,” she says.

  We both bow and she curtsies lightly.

  “Could I have a moment of your time?” she asks.

  “Of course, Princess,” I murmur.

  She leads us to another door, this one behind the thrones, leading to a small sunlight-filled sitting room, and closes the door behind us.

  Then she takes a deep breath, and I realize she’s been crying.

  “What’s wrong?” Dom says instantly, taking her shoulders in his hands.

  “Sven asked my father for my hand this morning,” she says, her eyes filling again.

  “And?” I demand.

  “I don’t think he’s replied yet, because it’s poor form to do so until all the offers are in, but...” She trails off, looking up at us.

  Until all the offers are in. Like she’s a house being bid on.

  I stroke her hair, and Dom holds her against his chest.

  “I’m not going to marry him,” she whispers. “My father can’t force me, but...”

  “Marry us,” Dom whispers.

  “You know that’s why we’re here,” I say, coming up behind her and kissing the back of her head. “We’re waiting to ask your father for your hand right now, actually.”

  “I wish I could,” she whispers. “You know it doesn’t...”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I promise. “We’ll convince your father.”

  “We don’t know how, but we will,” Dom agrees. “And at worst, we all run away to a dilapidated house in the woods and live in sin.”