“Only nice?” She slapped her hand on his damp shoulder. “I picked them for you specially. When Cassie and I went shopping together before the wedding. I thought you’d love them.”
George grinned. “You went shopping for me?”
“Yeah” She scrunched her nose, then a thought came to her and she licked her lips. “You’re all sweaty,” she whispered.
“I am.” He caught her gaze, saw the heat in hers, and had to hold back a smile. “Now, what the hell were you talking about? Knowing someone’s sexy but not realizing it?”
His wife blinked. “Well, yeah.”
“That doesn’t explain anything, Perry.” He laughed.
“I just mean, I knew you were handsome and gorgeously scrumptious before, but now?” She whistled. “And all sweaty? Your muscles are bigger too.” Her glance turned concerned. “How much time are you even spending down here?” She peered around at the state-of-the-art gym that was nestled in one of the subterranean floors beneath Masonbrook. “I didn’t even know we had a gym until Xavier told me this was where you’d probably be hiding.”
“I’m not hiding,” George grumbled.
Her lips twitched. “No. Of course not.”
Knowing he was being placated, he heaved an aggrieved breath, then he shook off those thoughts by slipping his hands around to cup her ass. “I want inside you,” he said on a low breath. “I want to forget, Perry.” His eyes caught hers. “Help me forget?”
The amusement on her face softened as she lifted a hand and cupped his sweaty jaw. “Anytime,” she breathed, and he knew she meant it. The word was a vow. As much of an oath as the one she’d made before God and country to Edward on her wedding day.
Before he could whisper another word, she’d grabbed the hem of her sweater and was tugging it overhead.
“The door…?” She’d closed it, but that didn’t mean somebody might not walk in. Even though he’d noticed that the gym, with hot-shit equipment the best money could buy so that the Royal guard could train and keep fit here, had been surprisingly empty of late. Drake, their head of security, must have told them to work out elsewhere while George was using it.
Totally unnecessary, but the Royal Guard had a habit of staying separate from the family they protected. His friendship with Francesco was unusual. Although, Edward was friendly with a few of his too, a guy called Jamieson, if memory served.
“I locked it.” Her words were garbled as her mouth was covered with the sweater. Then, she tossed it overhead and immediately went to work on the buttons of her fly.
His mouth watered at the sight of her ripe tits, which, surprisingly, were bare. Perry was definitely top heavy, and the large nipples were just cherries on the top of a delicious cake as far as he was concerned.
“You came to seduce me, didn’t you?” he joked as she pushed the tight denim over her thighs and down to the ground, but though he was teasing, knew it to be the truth. She’d definitely come here with a purpose in mind.
Perry paused, lifted a hand to cup his jaw again, then said, “I wanted to make you happy.”
“You don’t need to do this to make me happy.” His words were choked because they were definitely self-sacrificing. But still, she had to know she was more than just a fuck doll to him. Jesus, was that what she thou…
Her snort intruded and she lifted her hands to cup her tits. “These make you happy,” she said matter-of-factly, her eyes glinting in the harsh overhead lights of the gym. Then, she stunned the shit out of him by pushing forward, not stopping until she was straddling his hips, her panty-covered pussy and his gym shorts the only thing separating their bodies.
She writhed against him a second, her pelvis digging down to rub her core against his cock.
“I know this makes you happy,” she whispered, a light moan escaping her lips as her movements worked on her too.
His tongue felt like it was cleaved to the roof of his mouth.
Was this Perry?
His Perry?
Seducing him? In the nasty white lights where all her flaws, and his, could be seen? His shy little lover who still covered her belly with pillows after they fucked, and wrapped herself in the sheets like a mummy to hide herself from them as she slept?
Who was this brave, braw lass who’d come to rock his fucking world?
He blinked.
Why the fuck was he wasting time asking questions?
He lunged at her. Well, his hands did—he grabbed a hold of her chin, tilted her head, and dove onto her lips. His tongue plunged into hers, and he began to fuck her mouth like he wanted to fuck her pussy. As she clung to him, whimpers escaping her as they kissed, he dropped his hands to the sides of her panties and tugged, hard enough for the silk to dig into his palms, as he tore them off her.
Then, he slid between her legs and felt her sopping wet cunt and knew that mindlessness he’d been seeking, was in full working order.
Her scent overwhelmed him. She was horny and hot and his. Fuck!
His fingers plunged through her wet folds, nudging her clit repeatedly as he moved the digits through her slick heat. The moans she made had her tongue vibrating against his and he loved it. Adored it as she curled her arms over his shoulders and dragged him close so that the taut points of her nipples burrowed into his chest.
Another growl hummed low in his chest and he felt like exploding then and there as she began to wriggle, using the motions to direct his fingers.
She pulled away as a sharp cry exploded from her mouth when he rubbed her clit again. “Jesus, that feels so good!” she whimpered, then she stared at him with passion-drenched eyes. “You smell so fucking delicious.” The whimper had given way to a growl of her own. “I want you to fuck me, George. I want that sweat all over me. I want to smell of you. I want you all over me.”
He blinked at her, slowly. His brain taking a ridiculous amount of time to process her words because, truth was, ‘little’ brain was already in full working order.
Then, the primal beast inside him responded to the primal beast in her.
Her words were the catalyst and with a grunt, he grabbed her hips, held her tight to him, then carefully heaved them both from the workout bench to the plastic mat on the floor. The minute she was on her back, he pulled off slightly, and looked at her, tits heaving, a red flush of delight burning her chest and cheeks, letting off enough heat to melt him.
He shoved the waistband of his shorts down, and to the audience of dozens of dumbbells, still treadmills and silent cross-trainers, as well as their reflections on the full-length wall mirror behind him, he dove on her once his cock was free.
She moaned when he rubbed the glans over her folds once more, but as he found her gate and notched it home, she let out a sharp cry as he fucked into her.
She bucked underneath him, her hips alternating between dipping down and then rearing up. He knew she wasn’t used to this. They’d always teased her before. Had always driven her crazy with want and foreplay before they took her where she needed to be.
But this was different.
He felt like an animal. A beast intent on focusing on anything but the situation he found himself in, able to concentrate his entire being on her, and not on the future.
At that moment, he drowned in her.
Loving that she absorbed all of him, that she was his comfort and his place of rest.
She screamed as he rammed hard into her, but she didn’t complain. Her legs came up to tuck about his hips, and her feet burrowed into his ass with enough power to mark him later with bruises. Her heels guided him, urging him harder, deeper, faster. And the moans she made did the same.
The fire in her eyes was another trigger. It urged him on, demanding more, and her hips rose and fell to meet his.
With their gazes glued, he fucked her as she fucked him back.
He didn’t know what had made her seek him out but was utterly grateful that she had.
Then, just as he felt his orgasm approach, he pulled back. She let out a s
hriek of outrage. “What the fuck, George?”
He smirked at her, loving her growl of pure fury as he grabbed hold of her and flipped her over. Maneuvering her so that they were looking into the mirror, he fitted himself behind her, then dragged his cock through the juicy mess he’d left behind. She whimpered as she looked at their reflection. Then, a cry echoed around the vast room as he plunged in deep.
From this angle, they could see her tits sway and jiggle, their pendulous weights slapping with the hardness of his thrusts. Her arms quivered and shook, and he saw the blank pools of her eyes as she absorbed his fast rhythm.
Then, she made a mewling noise and her eyes closed. He slapped her ass, jolting her into opening them again, but she surprised him by resting her weight on one arm, then reaching down between her legs with the other. He felt her fingers fumbling with her clit as she touched herself and the sight of that, the sight of her face puckering with the sudden swell of ecstasy was all he needed to come.
He held off, waiting, waiting, hard but desperate for the urgent clutching of her intimate muscles around his shaft. When they set off like a firework display, he roared out his release, loving that her screams of joy entwined with his.
God, this woman was made for him.
He slumped against her, all the strength in his muscles disappearing as he fell against her, his hands sinking to the mat to stop his weight from falling entirely on her. They were both panting, both slick and sweaty messes as they came down from the incredible high they’d just explored as a unit.
“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing his mouth to the spot right between her shoulders. She was wet with perspiration there and he traced his tongue over the spot he’d kissed, making her shiver at the touch.
“I want to be here for you, George. Don’t push me away.”
He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to her back. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I can ask of you,” she whispered softly. Her voice sounded exhausted, both from what they’d just done but from recent events too.
His eyes pricked with stupid, pathetic tears; he was being selfish. She was going through so much as well… He wasn’t alone here. They were all lost and floundering. “I’m always here for you too,” he whispered. “I love you, Perry.”
A soft laugh escaped her, a sound that was pure Perry, and one that never failed to fill him with happiness. “And I love you, George. Never forget that.”
He never would because she was, and always would be, his saving grace.
Chapter Four
Edward ran a hand through his hair and tried not to tug it out at the roots. If anything, he was trying to look calm and at ease, even though he was anything but.
“Stressed” was an understatement.
The new Prime Minister shuffled in his seat opposite Edward. He’d been appointed a while ago, but this was the first chance Edward and he had had a heart-to-heart.
Unlike with other governments and countries with a Crown, the King had no say in who was elected a cabinet’s leader. But the first official meeting usually happened shortly after election, and in this instance, that just hadn’t been possible.
Edward’s schedule was…
He clenched his teeth.
“Insane” didn’t even cover it.
His father had always made it look so easy. So seamless.
How had he coped?
Edward wondered if Philippe had thought the same when his own father had passed, wondered if he’d felt overwhelmed and stressed and totally out of his depth… Nobody could be prepared for this, could they?
It was enough to make him feel suffocated. To make his unhappiness as Crown Prince seem like a joke in comparison.
He’d felt like he was being strangled before...now, it was like being waterboarded.
“I’m afraid that’s totally unacceptable.”
The Prime Minister, a liberal among a crowd of sharks in his own right-wing conservative party—a tactical decision meant to offset the threat of the general election next year—shrugged. “We can’t just oust a man whose reputation is spotless because he’s friends with the old Prime Minister.”
“It’s come to my attention that he’s been utterly disregarding an independent expert’s opinion.”
“Hardly independent,” James Branche muttered. “She’s now the Queen.”
“But she wasn’t before she came here, was she?” Edward snarled.
“You were dating! How can I use her findings and claim them as being non-biased?”
“Why would she be biased? It’s not in the Crown’s best interest to funnel billions of euros into the construction of new dams and the like if it’s totally pointless. Think, man. What’s to the Crown’s gain there?
“Perry’s findings are founded in statistics and research. Her reports are above reproach. There is no environmental reason for our water shortages; the dams are damaged and need critical reparations. Either that, or we need to construct new ones. Have that corroborated if you wish, but I want to implement them by the end of the year.”
“That’s barely two months away!” Branche snapped.
“So? The longer we tarry on this, the more danger we’re placing Veronia in! Totally unnecessarily in my opinion. And even if you do wish to nitpick over her conclusions, I want it done quickly, and I want to fire Charles Francoise. That prick has been hiding in the Environmental Agency for only God knows how long and all because he’s related to your predecessor De Montfort! It will be expected that De Montfort’s close allies will be under suspicion. The bastard was seen with an UnReal, dammit. Shortly before my mother’s murder!”
He tried to control his voice, tried not to let it break, but the empathy in the man’s eyes didn’t give him a clue if he’d managed it.
“We can’t start a witch hunt, sir.”
“Why the hell not?” Edward retorted grimly. “My mother’s dead, my father’s in a coma. We don’t even know why he hasn’t woken up, we don’t know if he will. We don’t know if he’ll ever be more than vegetative.” His top lip curled in a snarl at how much they damn well didn’t know. “Every death matters, Branche. But this is a public outrage. The UnReals didn’t just… they slaughtered our Queen and felled our King. Anyone seen to be associating with them, even their next of kin, needs to be investigated to the fullest extent of the law.”
Branche’s scowl deepened. “Then what? Throw them in prison for knowing an UnReal? Is that really how you’re going to start your reign, sire? Taking the first steps towards being a dictator?”
“No. But neither do I intend to be seen as a weak ruler. Now is the time for strength, and not for anyone, not even my Prime Minister, to be allowed to convince me otherwise.
“Within the next four days, I want an update from our Military Intelligence Agency. I want to see what measures are being undertaken to find the bastards who did this to us, and I want reassurances that my family is safe.”
He knew he was breathing heavily, and his heart was pounding hard enough to make him feel sick. He swallowed down the bile that was gathering in his throat, and barely managed to stay in control while under the watchful gaze of the other man in charge of ruling the country.
Branche’s bullfrog eyes tracked his every move, and Edward was hard-pressed to keep it together. Just as the man’s jowls began to jiggle in preparation for him to speak, a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Edward managed to croak out.
Branche’s mouth pursed as the door opened, a footman stepping silently into his office to allow Xavier inside. Before he departed, the footman in white, gold, and blue livery made a sweeping bow, and retreated into the hallway once more.
Edward blinked at Xavier, who simply cocked a brow as he headed deeper into Edward’s territory. Unfastening the button of his sports jacket and taking a seat beside Branche, Xavier settled into his chair with a smile that was, simply put, sardonic. “Branche trying to convince you to keep Francoise in play, Edward?”
The
Prime Minister’s nostrils flared. “I’ll have you know I’m representing more than just your family here, Your Grace.”
“What, yourself as well?” Xavier grunted. “Cut the bullshit.”
“What bullshit? After having consulted with all the appropriate departments, as far as I’m aware, the Queen has taken it into her head that our water crisis is a fabrication! Several experts disagree with that.”
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “Disagree with that or her findings?”
Branche scowled. “What’s the difference?”
“If you can’t discern the difference, I have to ask how the hell the party thought you could lead the damn country.” Xavier grimaced. “Finesse and subtlety seem to be going out of fashion.”
“Stop playing, Xavier,” Edward gritted out, his heart still pounding at a discomforting rate. He wanted to pat his chest, but then Branche would wonder why—and a sign of weakness was something he couldn’t afford.
“I’m not playing,” his cousin mocked. “Simply asking if the experts who looked into the matter have looked into Perry’s findings, too. Or if they’re simply going on old evidence.”
“I believe their opinions predate those of the Queen,” Branche admitted gruffly.
Xavier drummed his fingers against the thin tubular armrest of his seat for a second, but his gaze was firmly on his lap as Branche spoke. “Let’s think outside the box, gentlemen. Edward is going off information that I heard when I sat in on our new Queen’s presentation to a very uninterested Environmental Agency. So uninterested, in fact, one has to wonder why there’s little panic about an ecological disaster that’s waiting to happen. According to them, we’re on a tight deadline, after all.”
“They can’t live in a state of urgency every second of the working day, man,” Branche retorted.
“Can’t they?” was all Xavier said. “You’d think it would be at the forefront of their mind though, surely? What plans have they initiated to counteract the drought? From my own investigations, I see very little in play for such a future as they’re painting...
Long Live Queen Perry: Contemporary Reverse Harem (Kingdom of Veronia Book 3) Page 8