Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas
Page 56
She nodded and reached up for another kiss. “Crystal.”
He whispered into her ear, “Don’t worry, nobody will really know… except me. And I’m going to do it again, and again.”
And when they arrived at his room, she did what he asked, and the night exploded into a beautiful array of fireworks and delight, as their passion took them to new heights, over and over.
Chapter Ten
“So, we need to talk about the media. The reporters.” He stretched out, naked, and she admired his perfect physique and chiseled muscles. “I’m used to it. You are not.”
“I don’t like that idea, of them following me around.”
He nodded, his face sympathetic. “I know. I think we should make a public statement of sorts. That is, give enough information to one friendly reporter so that nobody will waste time digging for the first scoop. Although they will dig, I promise you that. Anything unflattering, they will drag it out.” He grimaced. “It will be hardest in the beginning, like ripping off a bandage. Then, it gets smoother.” He waited a beat. “Although it’s never exactly fun.”
“I’m scared.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t like that. It will suck.”
“Yes. But it will be all right.” He pulled her close. “Ride it out and get past it, and you’ll become a pro. I’ll coach you.”
“Oh, so now I get a sex coach and a media coach?”
He smiled, but then turned serious. “They can be vultures, Maya. No, not vultures. Vultures are noble and strong, feeding on the flesh of animals dead or dying, part of the life cycle of nature. No. These reporters, these paparazzi, they’re—soulless, no part of this world, no part of anything good. But they’re part of my life. And if you join me, they will be part of yours. You will need to be strong in a way you never understood.” His face held caution. “Many people decide it’s not worth the pain.”
She touched his face. “It’s okay. I’ll try it. I want to, for you.”
His whole face radiated relief. “We probably also need to work on your French,” he suggested, giving her a grin. “Definitely you could use some pointers there.”
“Are you going to teach me some right now?” She gave him a saucy grin.
“But of course.” He gave her a leer. “C’est le moment pour une autre leçon. That means it’s time for another lesson. I want you to be able to fuck me bilingually, chèrie. French and English both.”
“You want bilingual? Here’s a way we can do bilingual.” She straddled him backwards, then got onto her hands and knees, pushing her pussy into his face. “Two tongues.” She licked his cock, already hardening under her touch. “Simple. No French needed.”
He laughed. “Is that right?” He slapped her ass. He put a finger to her asshole and eased in the fingertip, then pulled the finger out. “If you want my touch there, push back and take it with your ass.”
“Henri!” She was scandalized.
He laughed again. “Come on, stick that ass out. You know you want it.”
She was so red she was sure her whole body was glowing. She glowered at his thighs, but the desire in her won over the embarrassment, and she pushed her hips back towards his hand, moaning when he slid the finger back.
“There, not so hard, is it?” he murmured. “Consider yourself lucky. Next time you’re going to have to ask me to fingerfuck your ass, in French, if you want me to touch you. So you better get started studying.”
She was about to snap a retort, but he put his other hand up and started to touch her pussy too.
“Go on and suck,” he commanded. “If you do a good job, I’ll let you come at the exact moment I do, so you better time it right. You get one chance to come.”
This turned her on like never before; the threat and the dirty nature of it all made her burn for him. “I can come whenever I want,” she retorted, and put her mouth onto his cock.
“That’s what you think,” he said, his voice arrogant. “From now on, I own your orgasms. You only come when I give you permission.”
“I never said I agreed to that!” She caught a breath of air, then ducked back down to continue working his cock.
“It’s understood,” he explained. “Just part of how it is, with us.”
She popped him out for a second. “Then your orgasms are mine.”
He laughed. “I’ll give you one right now. Get your throat ready.”
God! He was so irritating! But fuck, so goddam hot. He knew he made her angry with his words, and even more insane with his fingers. God, those fingers! He played her so perfectly, better than she could do it herself with years of practice. The way he touched and stroked, it was so goddam crazy amazing. And she could tell that he wanted to build her up, get her ready. If he teased about owning her orgasms, well, he clearly intended to keep her rich with them, coming all the time.
“Are you ready?” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
She stopped sucking for a second. “Yes, God, yes. Anytime now, I can go, yes.”
“Good. When I come, then you do. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Suck hard, as hard as you can. Take me deep. Yeah. Keep going. Fuck!”
And as he spurted into her throat, he flicked her clit with the perfect pressure, thrusting fingers into her pussy, and she came so hard she saw stars, and would have screamed if she didn’t have her mouth full of his cock.
She swallowed hard, pulled back, come dripping from her lips, gasping for air as the sweet release burst in her body, making her shake with pleasure. She wailed out unintelligible sounds, not caring that her mouth was coated with his essence; wiped it with her hand and leaned back down to push her hips onto his fingers to eke out every last bit of pleasure.
He grabbed her ass and pulled her forward, stuck his tongue into her and licked, and she came again, screaming, not caring that her ass was all in his face, just needing the sensation to go for as long as she could.
Lying in his arms, she had never felt more contented.
“You’re a dirty, dirty prince,” she teased, slapping his taut ass cheek with her hand. “And you’re totally corrupting me.”
“That’s right,” he agreed, pleased. “Je suis content que tu as finalement accepté tous mes orders.”
“What does it mean?” She ran a hand over his chest.
“Let’s just say that I knew you’d come to love my dungeon, princess.”
“I’m not a princess,” she said, closing her eyes, feeling the warmth of his body.
“You’re the princess of photographers,” he said, stroking her hip. “To me, you’re perfect. My big city girl with the camera, who doesn’t need a prince, but accepts one anyway.”
“Funny that you mention big cities.” She cleared her throat. “So, interesting fact. After I yelled at you and told you I’d never consider taking your stupid photography job in Syldavia, I sort of, you know, applied for it online.”
His hand stilled on her hip. “You did what?”
She touched his face. “I did want to be near you, Henri. Just not because you bought me the position.”
“You did that for me?” His voice was hushed.
She nodded, suddenly shy. “Well, sort of. For me too, of course. I didn’t know if you’d even still be interested by the time I got there, so I made sure it was a good career move for me even if we didn’t work out. But yes, honestly, I did. I hoped that we—would be together, if I did that.”
“Did you get it?”
“No, they turned me down for this one. They said they got a person who speaks French, so they took her instead. But there are other jobs! And I can learn French. And in the future, when your UN representation time is up, I can take a turn relocating. If we, you know.”
“Thank you.” His voice caught, and it looked like his eyes teared up. “Maya, that’s probably the most generous thing a person has ever done for me.” His voice was full of wonder. “It’s a bigger gift than I’ve ever received. I hope I’m worthy of it.” He took her hands.
“That’s the gift. That’d you give it a chance. And I’ll be excited to introduce you to my family again. My sister already likes you, I promise. My brother, once he’s sober—he’s a good person, Maya.” His face was earnest. “My mother, you’ll meet her.”
She squeezed his hands. “I’m scared of that, too. More than the paparazzi, I think.”
He nodded. “I know. But I’ll be by your side. It will be worth it, okay? Please give my family a chance, like you gave me. They’ll grow on you. Like a nice, royal fungus.” He laughed, but something in his eyes was new, and she recognized it because she saw it in her own sometimes, in the mirror: Uncertainly. Apprehension.
“I know you’re worth it. We’ll give this our best shot.” She squeezed his hands, and now the look in his eyes came back, the one of passion and adoration.
“You want my best shot? Spread your legs, princess. Let me show you how it’s done.”
She squealed out in laughter, and then her laughter turned to sounds of pleasure, as they came together in bliss, beginning the first step of their happy ever after.
~The End~
Just for Fun
I thought it would be fun to provide a list of the translations for the French used throughout this story. I asked a good friend to help with the caveat that not all the translations are necessarily literal. I much prefer having the spirit of the thing come across than an exact translation of my words. After all, just having someone lean close, look deep into your eyes, stroke a finger across your skin and whisper some sexy foreign words into your ear…well, do we really need to be totally accurate? I think not. Hope you enjoy! Thank you, S., for doing the translations for me. XOXO.
1. “Henri! Ever the philanthropist. Such a hero.” (Celeste is complimenting him on making a very large donation to a charity, and she’s making a socially sweet comment while greeting him.)
Henri! Toujours le philanthrope. Quel héros.
2. “Celeste! You look amazing, as always.” (social nicety, not a loving/passionate compliment.)
Celeste, incroyable comme toujours
3. “Well, I have to get going.”
Il faut que je m’en vais.
4. “Shit.” (He’s annoyed at something. Doesn’t need to be ‘shit’—just something typical that a person would say, a curse-y thing, when they’re ticked off.)
Merde!
5. “Let’s go.” (talking to his entourage—they are leaving the room.)
Allons-y.
6. “Sweetheart.” (A sexy, cute nickname, sort of classy. Not trashy, but cool/sexy.)
Chèri (masculine) / Chèrie (feminine)
7. “I’d rather strip you naked and talk about how I’m going to make you scream in pleasure.”
Je préfère te déshabiller et parler de comment je vais te faire crier de plaisir
8. “There are so many more things I would love to teach you, and that kiss is just a start.”
Il y a tant de choses dont je voudrais t’ensigner, et ce bisou est juste le commencement
9. “You’re so sexy when you’re not being a bitch.” (Doesn’t need to be ‘bitch’—he’s teasing; not trying to insult her, but he’s calling her out on her rude comments to him. The word should be rude without being seriously offensive.)
Tu es si sexy quand tu ne fais pas de conasse
10. “If you want to learn how to kiss, you only need to ask.”
Si tu veux apprendre comment s’embrasser, tu ne dois que demander
11. “I’ll have you begging for my touch.”
Je vais te faire supplier pour que je te touche
12. “Take off your dress, please.”
Enlève ta robe, s’il te plait
13. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Tu es tellement jolie
14. “Here? You like this?” (he’s touching her, and she does like it. He’s asking if she likes the touch in that particular spot.)
Ici? Ça te fais plaisir?
15. “Now. Come for me right now.”
Maintenant. Jouis pour moi maintenant.
16. “So you’re finally going to speak to me? Where have you been all day?” (He’s mad at his brother.)
Et tu vas finalement me parler? Tu étais où toute la journée?
17. “You can go fuck yourself.” (Doesn’t need to be literal, just something one person might say to another when they’re really pissed off. Here, one brother says it to another.)
Va te faire foutre (more like kiss my ass.)
18. “That goddamn pony shit everywhere!” (He’s drunk and telling a story about how, when he was a kid, he brought a pony into the house and it shit everywhere. Again, doesn’t need to be literal—just a vulgar way to talk about a pony pooping in the house.)
Ce maudit poney a chié partout!
19. “I want you right now.” (He wants to have sex with her.)
Je te veux maintenant
20. “You’ll be my pet, and obey my commands.” (He’s teasing her)
Tu sera mon chouchou et obéis à mes ordres
21. “It’s time for another lesson.” (He’s joking about teaching her sexy things.)
C’est le moment pour une autre leçon
22. “I’m glad you’ve finally agreed to all of my demands.” (She didn’t; he’s teasing her in French because she doesn’t understand all of what he says, so he can get away with some things he couldn’t in English.)
Je suis content que tu as finalement accepté tous mes ordres
23. “Climb on, Sweetheart.” (They’re having sex and he’s talking about his dick—he wants her to ride him. It’s a joke because she made some rude comments about him before she knew him, about how women ride him and climb off and on all day.)
Monte, chérie…
About Alexis Alvarez
Alexis Alvarez is an author, photographer, and digital designer who loves writing steamy romances. Her female heroines are always strong, intelligent women who fall for the sexiest guy around... and get the happy-ever-after ending of their dreams.
Alexis is a wife and mom, a former chemical engineer, a dachshund-whisperer—wait, that’s a lie. The dachshund usually does the exact opposite of what he’s told.
Do you like contemporary romance with steam and humor? Darker BDSM/erotica novels with fascinating psychological insights? Alexis has you covered. She writes in both genres.
You can usually find Alexis hanging out with her sisters, who are also romance writers, at their website, Graffiti Fiction. The three of them love to drink wine together and laugh like hyenas while making dirty jokes and really inappropriate comments. Their mom is very proud.
One really cool thing about Alexis is that she’s a friendly author who loves meeting new people on Facebook. Please come on by and say hello. Thanks, and happy reading!
Find Alexis Online
I’m friendly! Please come say hi.
Special Facebook Group: (It’s cool in here!) https://www.facebook.com/groups/295997897414263
Website: http://graffitifiction.com/
Facebook Author Page
Twitter
Newsletter Fun!
https://goo.gl/forms/x0p1fNa2hFsiC1ho1
It’s the best, funniest newsletter sign-up EVER—I promise. Click the link and see why.
Claimed by the Bastard Prince by Sue Lyndon
Chapter One
Cora’s gaze traveled from the sparkling chandeliers to the elegantly decorated tables crowned with large floral centerpieces. Around the exotic flowers, little yellow lights blinked in intervals, mimicking the look of fireflies. Lush potted trees, strung with dazzling white bulbs, stood along the walls. Live music spilled over the murmuring crowd, the female vocalist’s angelic voice accompanied by a full band.
The grand ballroom in Shalan Palace was like something out of a fairytale.
Cora had been hesitant to travel to
the small but prosperous country of Ismallia by herself, to attend the wedding of her college roommate to an Ismallian prince, but as she absorbed the splendor of the palace and watched the happy newlyweds approach the dance floor, she was glad to have braved the journey.
This was a once in a lifetime trip. The wedding that had taken place earlier in the day had been just as magical as the reception, and in any case, she would have regretted missing out on her friend’s wedding, no matter where the nuptials were held.
The new bride, Malia, started dancing in the center of the ballroom with her handsome husband. They both smiled and stared into one another’s eyes with an intensity that bespoke true love.
A prince. A real live prince. Not only had Malia been swept off her feet by a good looking, wealthy man, but he was a prince to top it all off.
Cora pushed down the envy that bubbled up in her chest. She was happy for Malia. She really was. But, unfortunately, her recent breakup with Greg—aka Mr. Cheaterpants—whom she’d dated for nine months, kept casting shadows upon this joyous event.
Still, she smiled when Prince Ramul twirled Malia across the dance floor and the entire room erupted in applause. The song ended and the happy couple shared a lingering kiss, much to the delight of the crowd.