by Pippa Grant
“’Twas merely the truth.”
She wraps her hands around to squeeze my buttocks, and I take advantage of the opportunity to nibble at her ear.
She’s quite delicious tonight.
“I would’ve come back even if you’d stayed king,” she tells me, ending on a gasp as I move to nibbling on her neck.
“Would you?”
“I really fucking hope so, because otherwise I’d be a truly horrible human being who abandoned you when all you ever did was let me be me, and I still don’t entirely understand why you would love me, but—”
I silence her with a kiss. And when her hands have finally begun roaming about my chest, her tongue sliding against mine while she makes the sweetest whimpers and moans, I quite forget any reason that anyone wouldn’t love her.
She wraps her legs around me, threads her fingers through my hair, and she kisses me as though I’m the reason for her every breath, her every heartbeat.
I’m quite uncertain how she loses her shirt, but soon it’s gone.
As is mine.
Her hot skin slides against my stomach, her breasts pressing into my chest, her hot, wet center rocking against my aching cock through our pants.
“Will you love me even if Papaya sets off cherry bombs in the bathrooms at her school?” Peach asks as she tackles my belt.
“Yes,” I rasp.
“What about if I tell off some European president?”
“Especially then.”
My pants drop to the floor, and she thrusts her hands into my boxer briefs to fondle my aching knob. Egads, but having her hands on me again is pure heaven.
“What if I told you I thought you were super hot in those heart boxers and I want you to wear them every day?”
“So long as you continue to stroke me, I should do nearly anything you wish. Gods above, your touch is exquisite.”
She squeezes as her hand reaches my tip, and my bollocks tighten.
“Viktor?” she whispers.
“Yes?”
“Will you marry me?”
I almost laugh, but her eyes are quite earnest, even as she holds my cock in her hand. “I believe I already have.”
“Will you marry me again?” She strokes me once more, and adds a soft, “Please?”
“Anything for you, my lady.”
“Will you wear the dress?”
Mischief flashes in her eyes, and I laugh as I tug at the button on her pants. “You’re quite the handful.”
“I have this crazy feeling you can handle me.”
She shifts her hips while I tug at the waistband of her linen pants, and the piano groans and shifts beneath her.
We both freeze.
The piano, alas, does not.
I lift her and spin as the contraption crashes to the floor in a giant cacophony of keystrokes and splintering wood.
The door flies open, and Alexander and two guards rush in.
They take one look at us—me quite immodest, Peach only moderately more so—and all three leave the room immediately. Alexander slams the door behind them.
Peach is hanging onto my shoulders, her legs wrapped about my waist, her wet panties rubbing against my bare cock.
And she’s laughing so hard she may be crying.
“Welcome home, my lady,” I say with as much dignity as I can muster.
Which is not very much.
And I rather don’t care.
Because there is nothing in the world as good for a man’s soul as listening to the love of his life laugh, nor anything that can come close to touching the feeling of her smiling lips against mine as she whispers, “I hope you have a house, because I have a feeling we’re going to get kicked out.”
“We’re merely adding character,” I reply.
“Just when I think you can’t get any hotter, you go and say something perfect like that.” She wiggles her hips. “Wanna try to squash that ugly heart loveseat next?”
I glance at the furniture in question as she licks my neck.
She’s quite right.
It would not hold up well.
Nor would the cribbage table.
I cradle her arse cheeks as I stride across the room to the bookshelf. I tilt the fourth book on the second shelf, and the entire wall creaks open.
She gasps. “Oh my Thor,” she whispers. “Is that a secret passage?”
“No palace should be complete without one.”
“You really do keep getting hotter by the minute.”
I close us in, light the passage with the flashlight on my phone, strip her out of her lacy briefs, and lift her against the wall.
“Is this wall going to cave in?” she asks while I position myself at her entrance.
“Would you like it to?”
Instead of answering, she tilts her hips, drawing me into her body, her hot sheath sliding and stretching around me. “Make love to me, Viktor.”
I hold her steady and thrust the rest of the way into her.
“Oh, god, yes. I missed you so much.”
“I’ve been quite miserable without you.”
“I’m so sorry, I—oh, yes, more, there.”
“No more sorry.” Heavens above, she’s so perfectly squeezing my cock with her slick pussy, I’m quite certain she was made just for me.
“I love you,” she gasps, and I come utterly undone.
My climax takes me by surprise, but she’s arching into me and crying out with her own release, so hard and fast and full that my heart is near to bursting. I grip her tight while the spasms throb through me, tugging so deep I cannot imagine ever being whole without being inside her. “I love you,” I echo, because I do.
Heart and soul.
With everything I am.
For all of eternity.
46
Peach
So much snow falls Monday night that Papaya can’t go to school, and we spend the morning having snowball fights and building obscene snowmen in the courtyard. The best part, though, is when Viktor ambushes us as we’re attempting to come inside just before lunch.
He converts Papaya to his side quickly, and as soon as he turns his back, she disappears inside.
Which leaves him free to tackle me in the snow.
“You are such a cheater!” I shriek while I try to rub a snowball in his face.
“On the contrary, my lady, I am a master strategist.” He easily avoids my attack, and I end up with snow dropping all over my face instead.
He’s smiling so broadly, I think his dimples might have gotten dimples.
And the sight of that smile makes my heart soar.
I make him happy.
Making someone else happy—truly happy, just by being me—is a joy I never understood before.
And being wanted—warts and all—is freeing in a way I never expected.
I wiggle under him until he’s settled between my legs, and I wiggle more when I feel that thick bulge growing against me. “Is this your master strategy?” I ask him as I shamelessly tilt my hips into his erection.
“Merely the first phase.”
His mouth is hot in the cold winter air, and I forget about frozen toes and fingers while he treats me to a deliciously luxurious kiss.
So I’m basically never going to get tired of kissing him. And even though I kept him in bed until just a couple hours ago, I’m ready to drag him back there again.
“Your nose is quite cold,” he murmurs. “I should take you inside and warm you up.”
“You should,” I agree. “It’s all your fault I’m somewhere my nose gets cold.”
“Completely reprehensible of me,” he acknowledges.
“And I think there’s snow melting through my pants.”
“Such a terrible predicament. Are you getting quite wet?”
“You are so hot when you talk dirty.”
He smiles again, his eyes crinkle, his dimples pop out, and holy Thor, I am so in love with this man.
I touch my gloves to his dimples. “You know
that smile could cause global warming,”
He barks out a laugh, then rises and pulls me to my feet. But he doesn’t stop there.
Nope.
He tosses me over his shoulder and carries me through the courtyard.
But instead of taking me to our room, he carries me through a minor construction zone and takes me straight to Alexander’s office.
“Are we going to screw around in the king’s office?” I ask. “Because I could be up for that.”
“Perhaps tonight,” he replies.
He knocks and enters without waiting for an answer, then deposits me on the rug. “As requested, Your Majesty,” he says to Alexander, who rolls his eyes.
Viktor grins. “Ah, the tables have turned.”
“Sit your arse down and be quiet.”
“Am I being banished?” Peach asks. “Because I’d prefer a spanking to banishment.”
Viktor chokes on a laugh while Alexander’s eye twitches.
It’s kinda nice to not be the one with the twitch. For the moment, anyway. Papaya’s still Papaya, after all.
“I believe I’ll regret this sooner than anticipated,” Alexander says.
“Probably,” I agree.
Though I’m not actually opposed to spending time in his office. I’m still figuring out where my balance will be, but I know I’m continuing a few of the projects I started while Viktor was king. I’m also going to start some networking for Weightless though, because I think we could easily expand into Europe.
Alexander scans me up and down, and he suddenly seems to be struggling not to laugh too.
I look down at my makeshift snow pants, which are soaked in odd patches. I’m in boots two sizes too big, and I don’t even want to know what my hair and hat look like.
“’Tis fitting,” Viktor says to his brother while he squeezes my shoulder.
“What’s fitting?” It occurs to me that I actually don’t know why Alexander wanted to see me.
“My lady,” he tells me, “as the King of Amoria, ‘tis my honor and privilege to bestow upon you the Duchy of Elbony.”
My jaw drops, and I squint at him. “I’m sorry, your accent is hard to understand today.”
“The Elbony estate is a mere ten kilometers past the capital,” he continues. “I expect it’s in some disrepair, as it’s among the older of the monarchy’s holdings, but I believe you’ll be an excellent representative of what we expect in the aristocracy of Amoria. You’re smart, you’re occasionally charming, and you’re quite dedicated to seeing the value in a person’s character over their situation.”
“You’re making me a duchess?” I stutter.
“Made, Your Grace,” Alexander replies. “I’m merely notifying you of the fact now.”
I look at Viktor, who’s playing everything straight-faced, though I can tell by the twinkle in his dark eyes that he’s amused. “And so you’re a duke?”
“No, Your Grace, he’ll remain a mister unless you or I decide he should be allowed to have a title,” Alexander replies. “Though I daresay Viktor is the sort who would decline even if declining were not an option.”
“I’m the sort to decline,” I point out.
“And you’ve no option, and the citizens of Elbony are quite the fans of you, so ‘twould be rather rude, even for you, to decline.”
“Is your brother baiting me?” I whisper to Viktor.
“He’d best not, as I know how much that excites you,” he murmurs back.
Again with the twinkle.
“I rather think he’s being quite honest, Your Grace.”
I poke him in the ribs.
He smiles at me.
“Are you quite finished?” he asks Alexander.
“Yes, yes, go and tear each other’s clothes off to celebrate. But please bear in mind, Peach, that your title does not automatically pass to your offspring. ‘Tis a duchy that must be earned, so long as I am king.”
I’ve leapt around the desk to strangle Alexander in a hug before I realize I’ve moved.
I don’t care if I have a title or land or whatever.
Getting a family—a man I adore with all my heart who comes as part of a package with people who want to make a difference in the world, and who accept me and Papaya and Meemaw—is priceless.
And it’s so much more than I ever knew I wanted, and nothing I’ll ever take for granted.
Epilogue
Viktor
It’ll be fine, Viktor, my wife said.
You’re overreacting, my wife said.
You wouldn’t want to disappoint Papaya, would you, Viktor? my wife said.
Nearly a year ago it was a hot air balloon.
Today, it’s an alpaca.
“Oh my god, Fred’s going to die!” Papaya shrieks and wails and moans in the bride’s room at the abbey.
“Do we have a vet on speed dial?” Peach asks me. “I’m pretty sure this’ll work itself out naturally, but…”
She blinks beseeching blue eyes at me, and even if she weren’t in an utterly stunning floor-length ivory dress with flowers in her hair and those plump red lips turned into a pout, I would be unable to deny her anything. I stifle a sigh and pull out my phone. “I shall see what we can do.”
Papaya’s weeping into Fred’s coat, her arms about the animal’s neck, which should be quite impossible given the outfit the alpaca has been adorned in.
Fred can’t be a naked ring bearer, the girl had insisted.
And because knitting Fred a lacy white dress for our next attempt at a formal wedding had kept her occupied, Peach and I relented. We were unsurprised by the addition of a tutu and unicorn horn, but the fairy wings were unexpected.
Still, it was not the outfit Fred ingested, but the rings on the pillow.
“Thank you,” Peach whispers. She presses a kiss to my cheek, then wipes it, undoubtedly because she’s left lipstick behind.
Which is something I don’t mind in the least. I never mind wearing her lipstick on any part of my body.
“You need me to Heimlich the llama?” Zeus Berger asks.
Behind him, Ares Berger rolls his eyes and sighs. The twins—along with Manning Frey—have just finished the hockey season, and I’m truly honored to have them here.
“You can’t Heimlich a llama,” Joey informs Zeus. “You’d break it in two.”
Papaya wails louder.
“Hey, ssh, it’s okay,” Gracie tells Papaya. “Fred’s going to be fine. My cat swallowed a rock once, and she just pooped it out a few days later. Seriously. It’s no big deal.”
“I swallowed a mood ring once,” Zeus offers. “Only hurt a little coming out.”
Ares snorts, and Zeus hooks a thumb at him. “And Ares ate a puck once.”
Felicity, Ares’s wife, winces. “Ouch.”
“Small bites,” Ares tells her.
Dear gods, I’ve missed these gentlemen.
“Papaya, we’re going to get Fred to a vet,” Peach says, “and after the wedding—”
“You’re still getting married?”
“We’ve already had one wedding canceled,” Peach replies dryly.
“That could be your thing,” Joey puts in. “Canceled weddings. It’s adorable.”
“Since when do you do adorable?”
“When it’s your weddings falling apart and not mine.”
Joey cracks a rare smile, Peach bursts into laughter, and I understand why the Berger twins are both smiling broadly now.
There’s magic in the laughter of the ones you love.
My phone connects to the vet, and I make quick arrangements to have the alpaca picked up. Then I turn to my wife. “I would very much like to marry you again today.”
Peach smiles, and my heart sings. “Good. Because I’d very much like to marry you again today. Anybody who’s coming to this wedding, get to your places.”
“But Freeeeeed,” Papaya cries.
With beseeching, you would be my hero if you could solve this eyes.
I’m quite cer
tain I’m being played.
And also that I know absolutely nothing about the digestive tract of a llama. Or an alpaca. Or goats, sheep, camels, or any other animal.
But I do know ‘tis nearly impossible to disappoint the ones I love.
Which is why when Peach and I take our vows—our public vows, in the abbey, with Joey and Zeus officiating—there’s an alpaca in a dress, with a unicorn horn and fairy wings, on a stretcher at the altar beside us.
‘Tis a wonder Peach and I both managed to keep a straight face through the vows, though when I’m granted permission to finally kiss my wife, she whispers softly, just before our lips touch, “Imagine how much publicity Amoria will get when this wedding goes viral.”
Gods above, I do love this woman. And I intend to show her every day for the rest of my life.
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Pippa
Books by Pippa Grant
Mister McHottie (Chase & Ambrosia)
Stud in the Stacks (Parker & Knox)
The Pilot and the Puck-Up (Zeus and Joey)
Royally Pucked (Manning and Gracie)
Beauty and the Beefcake (Ares and Felicity)
Rockaway Bride (Willow and Dax)
Hot Heir (Viktor and Peach)
The Hero and the Hacktivist (Rhett and Eloise)
Charming as Puck (Nick and…)
Exes and Ho Ho Hos (Jake and Kaitlyn)
And more…
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