by B. B. Hamel
I grabbed her then and rolled her over. She gasped, and her hair spread out behind her as I pushed deep inside her, fucking her slowly. I kissed her neck and her lips.
“I want this pussy every day for the rest of my life,” I said. “I want to feel you, skin on skin. You’re so fucking wet.”
I worked myself deep inside her. She spread her legs wide for me, taking my thick cock. I worked deep and slow, fucking her pussy, making her moan.
“Trip,” she gasped as I knelt back and began to rub her clit. “Fuck, Trip. I’ve been thinking about this.”
“I know,” I said, fucking her deep. “You can’t stop thinking about my royal cock.”
She gasped as I began to fuck her harder. I knew what she wanted as I put her hands up above her head. She wanted me to take and to destroy her, to make her body bend to exactly what I wanted. She wanted me to make her mine, and that was what I was going to do.
I pressed myself deep inside her, pinning her hands above her head and kissing her lips. She moaned, loving it, so I teased her nipple with my tongue and bit it softly. That made her moan again as I fucked her, sliding in and out of her soaking pussy.
I released her hands and she grabbed on to the headboard bars. I cradled her head toward me, fucking her in deep, rough thrusts. I could feel the sweat beginning to drip down our bodies as we worked together, her hips rolling against mine as I thrust deep inside her, fucking her deep.
I kissed her and then bit her lip, fucking her harder. She groaned, tipping her head back. I released her and then took her hair, pulling it slightly and grabbing her hip with my other hand.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” she gasped. “So fucking close. Please, Trip. Fuck me.”
“I’m your fucking king now,” I whispered to her. “I’m your fucking king, and you’re going to come for the king.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she moaned. “Fuck me, Trip. Come inside me. I want to feel it inside me.”
That set my fucking blood on fire. I fucked her harder, my thrusts getting more insistent. I wanted to fill her pussy with my hot cum, wanted to fuck her deep and fill her up with it. I wanted to put a fucking heir in her belly.
She began to come, slowly at first, then faster, her body twitching, her back arched. She said my name again and again, and I groaned, unable to hold myself back.
I came deep inside her. “Yes,” she gasped. “Oh fuck yes. Come inside me.”
I came heavy, my mind a blank of pleasure as I continued to fuck her, our orgasms rolling through our bodies. My mind was like a pinpoint, laser-focused on her body as I came deep inside her.
Slowly we finished. I pulled back and laughed.
“What?” she asked.
“My shoulder is bleeding again.”
She looked at me, concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll get a medic to stitch me up.” I kissed her softly on the mouth and then checked her thigh. She was just fine.
I collapsed onto the bed next to her.
“I love you, Trip,” she said.
“I love you too,” I answered. “And now that we’re working on an heir, we’re going to have to make this official.”
She blinked at me. “Are you serious?”
“I’m very serious. I want to make you mine, and I’m going to.”
She bit her lip and looked away. “Show me the ring; then we’ll talk.”
I laughed and kissed her neck. “Okay, my fucking sexy queen.”
“Queen.” She shook her head. “That’s insane.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
I kissed her softly again, and I meant it. One day, she’d be my queen and all of this would feel normal.
We had a long road ahead of us, but the war was going to end now that I’d decided to commit some serious forces to crushing them. And she was going to need to learn Starklandian.
Plus, the people weren’t going to like a foreigner as their queen.
But I wasn’t worried about any of it. The only thing I needed was next to me in this bed. Bryce was going to be my queen, and she was going to give me little princes and princesses.
The royal line wouldn’t end with me. While I couldn’t say that mattered so much to me, it did matter that Bryce was the one who was continuing it with me. Without her, all of this would seem less important.
I had what I needed and didn’t even realize it.
I had Bryce to make me whole again.
37
Bryce
Two Years Later
“Come on, Leo,” I said in a singsong voice. “We’re going to see daddy.”
He cooed up at me and I laughed.
“I know. He’s been busy lately. But it’s not exactly easy setting up elections in a country like Starkland. You’ll see one day.”
I walked down the castle hallway, and for the thousandth time I got this incredibly surreal feeling. I couldn’t believe that this was my home now, that this baby was my baby, and that these clothes were mine.
I was dressed in a long gown, fit for a queen.
Since I was a queen now, of course.
Queen of Starkland, plus a bunch of other titles that I was pretty sure were made up but sounded pretty good. Mostly I was just Bryce, and the king was just Trip. That was good enough for us. I tried to insist on that to my guards and my assistants, but they refused. Something about tradition.
At least I was learning Starklandian. I wasn’t fluent yet, but I was pretty good. I could hold conversations and answer questions and such, but as soon as someone started speaking quickly or had a strange accent, I was totally lost.
But I was working on that, like I was working on a thousand things. Being a foreign queen in a country like Starkland wasn’t easy, and people had been pretty upset when Trip announced the marriage.
But they got over it when he crushed the rebels. It took him three months, and that was it. With the intelligence gathered from his victory over Corvin, they managed to find out their main supply bases and identify their leadership, and in three short months Trip sent all of his forces to annihilate them.
He didn’t underestimate them, not like his brother had. And unlike his brother, he won.
Defeating the rebels made him all that much more popular. In the days following our marriage and my coronation, which was lavish and incredible, the pro-monarchy feeling in Starkland was at an all-time high.
And so it came as a shock when Trip announced his Freedom Reforms.
I came to the end of the hall and turned right. I was pretty good at navigating the castle, though nobody knew it quite like Trip did. I finally found his office and opened the door.
He looked up from his desk. My heart skipped a beat.
“There they are,” he said, “my two favorite people in the world.”
I walked over to him and kissed him. “Your Majesty.”
“Your Highness,” he said back, laughing.
I handed him Leo. “How’s it going?”
“Oh fine,” he said. “Who knew that bringing a little democracy to this country was going to be so much work?”
I shrugged and sat down in the chair next to his desk. “You have to write the rules, dear.”
“The ministers should do it.”
“They are. You’re just approving them. And then the elections can happen.”
“But I don’t lose my job.”
“No,” I agreed, “but your powers will be severely limited.”
“Like that damn English queen.”
“Not that bad,” I said, smiling.
“Please, don’t let us ever get corgis and wear stupid hats.”
“I promise.”
He bounced little Leo in his arms, smiling. We’d wanted to get pregnant right away, but so much was happening in the country that we decided to wait. Plus, I needed to learn how to be a queen before I could learn to be a mother.
Leo was like a gift from the heavens, though, and he filled my days with so much joy that I cou
ldn’t even begin to explain it. He was everything we needed, and more.
And when he got overwhelming, Lucy and my father stepped in. They came to live in the castle with us, mostly because I insisted on it, despite Lucy being even more obnoxious than usual. Trip gave in to me eventually, though he did put up a stronger fight than usual. But when it came to Trip, I could reliably get what I wanted.
He rubbed his eyes, looking tired, and then handed me Leo back. “One year,” he said.
“One year,” I agreed.
“Then elections will happen, and Starkland will no longer be a true monarchy.”
“How do you feel about being the King who brought democracy to his people?”
“I feel okay about it,” he admitted. “Damn good about it, actually.”
“Good.” I stood up. “Come find me in the royal chambers tonight.”
He grinned. “Is Lucy taking Leo?”
“She is.”
“Good. I know where to find you.”
I kissed him again, and then I left. I had a meeting to attend soon, and I needed to get Leo down for his nap.
This was my life now. I took care of my baby and I helped to run a country that was transitioning to democracy. I couldn’t have felt more proud about that, and I knew I was doing something good and worthwhile with my life.
Plus, Trip made everything easy. The way he smiled, the way he kissed me, the way he fucked me, it all still felt fresh and new and exciting. There was nothing routine or rote about our relationship.
We may have been king and queen, but we weren’t stuffy.
We were just in love. I would give anything for Trip, and I already had. And I knew Trip would sacrifice anything for me.
We’d build this country into the greatest country possible. We’d do it together, because we were a team.
I needed him, and he needed me.
That was all I could ever ask for or need.
Ruined: A Bad Boy Romance
1
Riley
I can feel the bass from the huge speakers practically shake my knees as I make my way across the dance floor. A thin bead of sweat drops down my back and I feel good, really good, for maybe the first time in a long time.
Lacey is still out on the dance floor, grinding up against some big guy with tribal tattoos. That’s her type, the dangerous-looking bad boy. It’s probably because her parents are so nice to her, she feels like she needs a little fear in her life.
I don’t need any of that. I’ve had enough fear to last me a lifetime.
I make my way to the bar, trying not to let myself drift back into negative thoughts. I slip through the crowd and stand next to a group of guys in polo shirts and tapered pants, some real street wear guys. They’re not my type, though, and I ignore them when they try and get my attention.
Truth is, I’m not used to getting attention. I don’t go out much. The repercussions of going out just never really seem worth it to me.
Except for tonight, apparently. I was going to stay in again, do my usual thing, but Lacey called me up and practically begged me to come with her. I don’t get to see Lacey that much since she went off to college and I stayed home, so I couldn’t think of a good excuse. I wanted to see my friend, too, and in retrospect I’m glad that I accepted her invitation.
I almost forgot how good it feels to dance. I’m twenty-two and I’ve barely been out to bars and clubs, maybe a handful of times at most. It’s a damn shame, as Lacey says, wasting my youth and good looks. I’m not so sure about the good looks part, but the youth, well, she’s probably right about that.
The group of guys to my right moves off, each of them sporting a Red Bull and vodka. Just as the bartender looks my way, a new person slips in the vacant space and glances at me.
I’m surprised enough to meet his gaze. He’s tall and handsome in that clean-cut kind of way. He doesn’t really fit in with the club, but in a good way. His slim and tailored suit makes him look intelligent and sophisticated, and his deep blue eyes and muscles make him look attractive. I quickly look away from him, back toward the bartender, but the bartender has already moved on to someone else.
“I hate when that happens.”
I look over and he smiles at me. The handsome guy in the suit. Talking to me. I can feel my heart beating fast in my chest.
“When what happens?” I ask him.
“When you’re just about to get served, but then some obnoxious person steals away the bartender’s attention.”
“I guess I need to be more obnoxious.”
“Not at all,” he says, smiling. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
It’s cheesy, but it freaking works. I hate to admit it, but I’m intensely attracted to this guy, even though that’s not my thing. I’m not normally into getting picked up by strange men at bars, but this man seems different. He seems older, more in control, not just some party guy out looking to get messed up.
“How do you get the bartender’s attention, then?” I ask him, leaning closer.
“Like this.” He takes a fifty from his pocket and holding it out as he nods toward the bartender. Apparently attracted by money like metal to a magnet, the bartender turns toward the man in the suit and gives him a smile.
“What would you like?” the man asks me.
I don’t normally let guys buy me a drink, but I’m strangely fascinated by him. “Vodka cranberry,” I say.
He nods and orders two drinks when the bartender comes over a second later. He turns toward me, smiling honestly, and leans up against the bar. “I’m Joe,” he says.
“Riley.” We shake hands.
“Are you here alone, Riley?”
“No. My friend is dancing.”
“Ah.” He nods at the dance floor. “Did she ditch you for some guy?”
“Not exactly,” I say, leaning toward him.
“How about you ditch her, then? Come dance with me.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Are you always this forward?”
“No,” he admits. The bartender comes back with our drinks. Joe takes them and sets them down in front of him as he pays. I turn away and watch the dance floor, trying to spot Lacey, but I can’t find her. When he’s done paying, he hands me my drink.
“To ditching friends,” he says, grinning.
“Cheers,” I answer. We clink classes and drink.
“Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor. I’m not sure what I’m doing, following this guy around and letting him buy me drinks, but I’m trying to have fun tonight.
I’m trying not to be myself. I want to forget about what my life is like for one single night and let myself enjoy dancing with a handsome man. It’s okay to let him buy me a drink, everyone does it. I can’t worry so much. I spend my life worrying about what’ll happen if I do something that I end up doing absolutely nothing instead.
Once on the dance floor, I press myself against him, moving to the music. He’s a surprisingly good dancer, moving his hips to the music, pressing me close. I love the feeling of being pressed up with other people, everyone moving together, everyone trying to have a good time. I take another big sip of my drink, letting the alcohol loosen me up.
We dance like that for a couple songs. Joe pulls me closer and I let him, enjoying the feeling of his hands moving along my hips. I want him to touch me and I don’t care who sees it. I want to feel sexy and alive, free for a night at least.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear. It’s lame, but I don’t care.
“Thanks,” I say over the music.
Just then, something feels strange. I can’t put my fingers on it. I feel dizzy, a little lightheaded. I probably had too much to drink too fast. Joe holds me tight against him, but I suddenly don’t feel like dancing anymore.
I look around the dance floor and let out a huge sigh of relief when I spot Lacey. She’s nearby though still with her bad boy. I pull back from Joe.
“I see my friend,” I say. “I’m going to
check on her.”
He gives me a look then nods. “Okay then. Come find me when you’re done.”
“Sure.” I quickly turn and push my way through the crowd.
The dizziness is getting worse. It feels like everyone is moving in slow motion, like they’re all made of sludge and putty. My body feels heavy and strange. I finally make it to where Lacey is dancing with her guy, and she must see something in my expression, because she moves away from him instantly.
“You okay?” she asks.
“I feel sick,” I say.
Lacey frowns. She’s about my height, around five four, with long blonde hair and green eyes. Guys love her because she’s outgoing and fun, while I’ve always been the quiet and shy type. It’s almost a cliché, the two of us, but it works. Or at least it used to, back in high school, back before we become different people. Still, she’s a good friend, and she instantly leaves her bad boy to help me toward the bathroom.
I clutch onto Lacey, surprised at how hard it is to walk.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “Did you have too much to drink?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and my voice is a slurry mess. “I went to the bar. Met Joe. We danced. I feel sick.”
“Joe?” Lacey asks, but I don’t really understand her. We make our way into the back of the club where the bathrooms are and we skip the line. The girls all yell and make comments, but Lacey tells them I’m about to puke.
“Go outside then!” one girl yells, pushing Lacey.
I stumble and nearly fall. Lacey grabs me, propping me up. I don’t hear what happens next, but eventually I find myself out in an alley next to a dumpster, propped up against the cold metal wall.
“You’re okay,” Lacey says softly. “You’re going to be okay.”
I don’t know what she means. I stare at the ground and everything is loopy, strange, and disjointed.
“Stay here,” Lacey says, but I don’t know where else I’d go. Actually, I don’t even know where I am or when it is. I don’t know why the world seems like soup.
I grip onto the wall of the dumpster and lean forward as I throw up. I feel it vaguely, like from a distance, like it’s not even my body getting sick. Lacey is gone and I have no clue how long I’m alone.