Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas

by Susan Stoker

  “You know your events always take priority, Prince Finn. I’ll get it handled. Need me to escort your guest out?” The man stayed in the doorway, one hand on the frame as his eyes flicked to her, but Aubrey didn’t move to cover herself with the sheet. She just held her breath as those Mediterranean Sea eyes turned back to her.

  With a single, wicked tilt to his lips, she found the ability to exhale. “Aubrey isn’t going anywhere, just handle the party wrap-up, Elias.”

  “Consider it done.” The door closed as soon as the words were spoken, and she felt the smile spreading across her face.

  “Do you normally need help getting rid of your guests?”

  “It’s been a problem in the past,” Finn spoke low, shifting towards her on the bed, one hand moving up her thigh, over her hip, before spreading his palm over her stomach. “Come to breakfast with me.”

  Aubrey laughed as he moved closer, leaning over her. All golden, sunlit hair, glitter still sparkling on his skin like some mythical hero—how on earth was he this hot? This much like her? “Breakfast? What time is it exactly?”

  Finn chuckled. “Almost eleven thirty.”

  “That is not breakfast!” She groaned and dropped her head back to the sheets. “I can’t remember the last time I slept this late.”

  “Well, you did keep us up most of the night.” Stroking lower across her stomach, she snagged his wrist before he could delve between her thighs.

  “Me? I kept us up? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, it was definitely you.” Finn leaned closer to nip at her shoulder, angling his body over hers so his lips could trace a path over her collarbone to her neck, and she arched up into the all too familiar touch. “How could I resist the way you taste? The way you feel?”

  With his fingertips straining to brush the skin just above her sex, she squirmed. It would be too easy to fall back into bed with him, to never leave Prince Finn’s bed. He was everything she’d never thought was possible. Someone who craved the same things she did, without holding back, without any kind of reproach. No jealousy, no bullshit. Just pure acceptance—but that was dangerous in its own way. “I should get home, get caught up on—”

  “Lunch. I’ll take you to lunch.”

  “Finn…”

  He snapped his wrist out of her grip and planted his hand on the bed, looming over her, firm chest flexing as he stared down into her eyes. “Don’t run, Aubrey.”

  With a whine, she pushed her hands into her hair, unable to tear her gaze from those sea green depths. There was what looked like a sincere air of concern on his face, the tension in his brows amplifying his plea.

  Was she running?

  “I’m not running, I just—”

  “Then come to lunch with me.”

  Defeated. She was defeated the moment his concern melted into that cocky smirk, the barest tilt of his lips sending her head reeling and the space between her thighs tingling. “Okay.”

  Like a kid, he whooped, rolled, and bounced off the bed, standing gloriously naked in the gleaming, golden sunlight, and for an instant she wondered where his gold laurel crown had rolled off to—because he should be wearing it. He should always wear it.

  Harald Finn Solberg, the prince who was not a prince, held out his hand for her, and whether she was damning herself or not—Aubrey took it.

  ***

  Across the table, Aubrey was fidgeting with the straw in her water glass. Covering the top with a delicate finger before drawing the straw out, hovering it an inch over the water’s surface, and then releasing the liquid trapped inside.

  Finn had never been so enamored by physics in action.

  This was probably new ground for both of them, sticking around for the morning after, but he was glad he’d convinced her. Dragged her out of bed, into an incredibly hot shower, and now they were at one of his favorite local restaurants staring at the menus like normal people.

  Well, almost normal.

  “Do you usually bring a change of clothes to a party?” he asked, and Aubrey dropped her straw back into the ice to stare at him.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it so you can go back into work in a different outfit?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “That’s smart.” He grinned over at her, leaning forward across the table just enough for her beautiful caramel eyes to meet his. “If I had a job, I’m sure I’d do the same.”

  “Princes don’t need to work?”

  Finn rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair, draping an arm over the back. “Don’t start that bullshit. I get it enough from the others.”

  “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  His phone started buzzing in his pocket just as he went to answer, and by the steady, insistent vibration he knew it was a phone call. Tugging it free, he glanced down to see ‘Dick’ on the screen, and he pressed the button to send it to voicemail. “Yes, it does.”

  Aubrey laughed, her cheeks full of color, chocolate brown waves framing her face. “So, you’re saying you want to hear me scream Harald Finn Solberg against your ear in bed, but not Prince Finn?”

  With effort, ignoring the pressure building behind his ribs, he met her head on. Enjoying her playfulness too much to shut her down. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “I think I did it a few times last night,” she purred, and his cock twitched, already wanting her again.

  “You did. You also managed a fuck before me at the party, which I don’t think I officially acknowledged.” Tipping the brim of a pretend hat, he smiled at her. “I have to say, Aubrey, you exceeded all of my expectations.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Finn.” Now it was Aubrey’s turn to roll her eyes, but he reached across the table and snagged her hand, fingers wrapping around her wrist.

  “I’m being serious. You are…” He wavered on the next words, unsure of even how to describe what he was thinking. “Utrolig.”

  “What?” she asked, laughing as her gaze found his again.

  “Amazing. Incredible.” Finn shrugged, tracing his thumb over her palm as she relaxed. “I meant what I said last night—you’re the only woman on the planet who could keep up with me.”

  He wanted to hear her response, to learn what the sudden flash of energy behind her eyes meant, but just then the waiter appeared to interrupt them, and the young man’s eyes were glued to Aubrey.

  ***

  Aubrey watched him as she chewed, enjoying the comfortable silence, though she seemed to be the only one. Finn had received two more calls as they’d waited for their meal, both from someone charmingly named Dick, but he’d ignored them. And instead, he’d asked about her life as a CPA, her resigned comfort in dealing with the multi-million dollar accounts of LA’s rich and famous.

  It felt too easy. Too relaxed. Being around Finn was like being around an old best friend, only she had to describe the people she mentioned before she could continue—but he listened. Even as they ate their breakfast, drank water and coffee, laughing and chatting.

  “How does someone like you end up as a CPA? Pushing numbers and paper around like anyone else?” he asked, and the question was innocent, but she flushed.

  “Numbers have always made sense to me. They’re the same no matter your language, no matter what you do. Even when there’s foreign currency involved—there’s an exchange rate for it. It’s just more numbers, and everyone agrees to it. Everyone accepts it… and that’s nice.”

  “You didn’t come to LA wanting to be an actress? A model? You’re beautiful, Aubrey, I just thought that maybe—”

  “No. I was born here, Finn. Remember?”

  “Okay, but you never thought about being an actress while growing up in Hollywood?”

  She felt her nose wrinkle at the idea. “No, not at all.”

  “Why?”

  “Why don’t you want to be called prince?”

  Finn stared at her for a moment, his expression darkening as his brows pulled together. “So, your parents?”

 
; Aubrey shrugged. “Mom mostly, but Dad is the one still working. He’s a director, or a producer depending on what he’s working on.”

  “Right, and you said your mom named you after Marilyn Monroe?”

  There was a bitter taste on her tongue, knowing that in some ways her ‘normal’ job had betrayed the hopes her mom had once had for her future. “Yeah, she did.”

  “She’s an actress?” Finn asked, and he nudged his plate aside to tug her hand forward, toying with her palm, and she let him.

  “She was.”

  “That must be where you got the good looks, because you’re gorgeous.” It was flirtation, needless considering he’d already had her more than once, but she still felt a blush creep into her cheeks.

  “Growing up like that isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” she muttered, pulling her hand free, and he didn’t try to hold her there, smiling across the table as he nodded towards the waiter for the check.

  “Trust me, beautiful, that’s something I understand completely.”

  ***

  They stumbled through the doorway to his condo, and she heard the door slam as he kicked it shut. Standing in the entryway, Finn was already pushing her purse to the floor, tugging at her clothes. His kisses were molten, searing her lips as he caught them once more. The ride back to his condo had been torture, their lunch some kind of extended foreplay. When he lifted her, carrying her to the kitchen and setting her ass on the granite island, she’d already worked the buttons of his shirt loose.

  “Aubrey,” he moaned against her lips and stepped between her thighs, renewing the kiss.

  “Finn, I can’t—” She tried to speak, but his lips captured her words again and she melted against him, falling into the wicked pleasure of his tongue tracing hers, his hands pulling her core flush against the hard ridge of his erection.

  “Can’t wait?” he breathed, reaching down to fumble at the button of her pants, and Aubrey whined against his lips as they collided once more, her ass lifting off the island to let him rip the frustrating fabric away. She needed a minute out of his intoxicating presence, needed an hour to herself to process the party and everything it meant—but she couldn’t voice it. Not when he was right there, not when she could have one more taste of him, one more reminder of what it was like to be with him. It was important, important to know what it was like after what almost counted as a lunch date.

  When was the last time you’d stayed at someone’s place and then gone out with them?

  It was so many one-night stands ago that Aubrey couldn’t even calculate it, but when he wrapped an arm around her, pushing her underwear to the side to slide two fingers deep into her soaking wetness, she stopped trying to count. There was only his devious touch, his searing kiss, and the sinful brush of his tongue across hers. Beckoning her into the darkness. Granting her absolution from her actions.

  “Finn…” she whispered against his shoulder as he fumbled to release his erection so they could have what they both needed—but the buzzing of his phone in his pants pocket made him stiffen.

  With a growl, he reached in to pull it out, the name ‘Dick’ plastered across the screen once more, but he canceled the call and tossed the expensive device across the countertop. Just as he’d pulled a condom free of his wallet, the damn thing started to buzz again, clattering against the granite. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he growled, and Aubrey couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Finn,” she said, grinning, “maybe he keeps calling you because he really needs to talk to you?”

  There was a flash of something else in his eyes when he looked up at her, his erection tenting his boxer briefs between the open zipper of his pants, but he didn’t move.

  “It’s okay to answer, Finn. I’m right here.”

  That brought a grin to his lips. “You won’t run away?”

  “I don’t have the itch scratched yet, do I?” The flirtation seemed to work because he smiled wide as he walked over to the phone, picking it up, but the grin on his lips faltered and then disappeared as he stared down at the device. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he snapped, slamming the phone face down on the counter as he turned back to her and tore the foil. Finn pushed his boxers out of the way, rolling the condom on with practiced ease, but he paused between her spread thighs, meeting her eyes. “You are perfect, you know that?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Aubrey tried to laugh, holding onto the smile even when he didn’t reciprocate, even when he stood still, poised to thrust forward and fill her.

  “I mean it. I want you to believe me. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I don’t want you to keep going to Dr. Kirkland so she can tell you everything that she thinks you need to change.” Finn’s hands abandoned the hard shaft at his hips, cupping her jaw as he forced her eyes to meet his. “Tell me you believe me. Tell me you understand that there’s nothing you need to fix. You are beyond perfect. Say it.”

  “Finn…” Frowning, she laid her hands over his.

  “Say it,” he demanded, insistent. Asking for confirmation not just for her, but for him as well, and as she stared into his Mediterranean Sea eyes she felt it—the absolute rightness. The distinct feeling of two halves finding a whole. Too early in knowing him to know something like that, but there was no denying the reaction, the feeling. It was the truth whether or not the math made sense.

  “We are both perfectly fine the way we are, Finn. There’s nothing wrong with us, either of us, nothing we need to fix.”

  “You won’t go back to Dr. Kirkland?” he asked, one of his hands moving down to her hip to tug her ass to the edge of the island, lining her up with his cock.

  “If you won’t go back to Dr. Connor,” she answered, and he kissed her hard, plunging deep in the next breath, and their moans clashed with their tongues as the pure pleasure of him filling her overrode everything else. His grip on the back of her neck, on her hip, seemed fervent, intense, but his hips worked magic between her thighs. Summoning the abated heat into a full force inferno in a matter of moments, and soon not even the anxiousness of their intense discussion could interfere with the waves of electricity sparking their way up her spine.

  “I won’t go back, I won’t,” Finn promised against her shoulder, and she held him tighter, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull him closer, deeper, and the growl he released with his next thrust sounded more like the man who had run the bacchanal. More like the prince who had led his friends at the bar, and much more like the playful, gorgeous man she’d propositioned on a whim.

  “Yes,” she purred against his ear, nipping his skin just to hear him moan his appreciation. “I won’t either, no more. No more bullshit, I swear.”

  “God, Aubrey, I—” His eyes lifted to hers mid-sentence, mid-thrust, and she whined because she wanted him to continue. Continue fucking her into oblivion like he had the night before, and finish whatever he needed to say so it was out on the table. No games, no ploys, that was supposed to be the deal. Neither of them having to pretend, having to fake anything. But then a series of loud knocks came from the front door, and Finn’s eyes went wide, every muscle in his hard body locking up.

  “Who is that?” she asked, knowing before she even asked him that he already knew.

  “Ignore it.” Closing his eyes so she couldn’t read whatever confusing emotions were hidden there, he kissed her again and she accepted it, greedily drank in the heady lust that he drew from her with each sweep of his tongue, each swinging pulse of his hips. Everything was building, rising, leading towards oblivion, and he held her tighter against him. The arm around her back crushing, the grip at the back of her neck bordering painful, but she tilted her hips to let him thrust deeper. Widened her legs until only her heels met the backs of his thighs, and he took full advantage.

  It was quick, intense, but she felt the spiraling heat inside coil tighter and tighter, holding her at that fragile edge between continued glorious pleasure and oblivion, and then with one hard thrust he pushed her
over. Stars sparked behind her eyes, mimicking the over-exposed flash of camera bulbs, all of her nerves lighting up with it, and he whispered her name against her ear as he tumbled down with her. His cock pulsing deep, body hard and unforgiving as he clutched her tighter, and she wrapped her arms around his back to hold him, feeling the powerful expansion of his ribs as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck, Finn,” she gasped, her face buried against his shoulder, breathing deep the scent of his soap, his skin.

  “Aubrey, hell, I have no idea what I did to deserve finding you, but—” The sound of the front door opening cut him off, and he jerked back from her to look over his shoulder. “Faen.”

  Grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt she forced him to face her again. “Who is it, Finn? Just fucking tell me.”

  Panic.

  That’s what she saw in his eyes, pure panic, and pain, and guilt. In a flash, he pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants, condom and all, his boxer briefs snapping back into place as he leaned down to try and tug her clothes back into place.

  “Harald!” A loud, booming male voice echoed from the entryway, and Finn tensed.

  He met her gaze again, the panic still owning his expression, and then he kissed her. It was softer, gentler than the urgent ones from before. His hands cradled her face, and she found herself lost in the feel of his tongue brushing over hers, reveling in the low vibration of his quiet moan.

  “Harald! Hvem er dette? Et annet ludder?” The voice was in the room, and still loud, as he broke the kiss. An older man, dressed in an immaculate suit, stood in the open doorway to the kitchen, golden blond hair just like Finn’s. “Svar meg!”

  She swallowed slowly as Finn kept his eyes on hers for a moment, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, almost too quiet for her to hear.

  “Svar meg, Harald, nå.”

  “Et minutt, pappa!” Finn called over his shoulder, but Aubrey’s stomach went cold, because while she hadn’t followed the odd exchange, the last word was practically universal.