The King's Surprise Bride_A Royal Wedding Novella

by Vivien Vale

  My bride. The mother of my child.

  A child that we, very possibly, just made here tonight.

  I position her hands just over her cunt as, reluctantly, I withdraw from her. I move slowly now, careful not to hurt her.

  When my cock is finally released from her tight heat, I press her fingers against her pussy to keep all my cum inside.

  “Wouldn’t want any to leak out,” I tell her with a wolfish grin.

  She smiles back, dazed from the orgasm. “It would be a terrible waste.”

  For added assurance, I grab a thick stack of expense reports from my desk and shove them under her sweet little ass.

  “Stay like that for a few minutes.”

  “Should I put my legs up, too?” She laughs. It’s a sweet sound—sweeter, perhaps, because we’ve just had our fill of each other.

  Well, maybe not. But I did get a little rough—I couldn’t fucking help myself—and she was a virgin, so I’ll give her a break.

  Waiting’s going to be a fucking challenge, though. Now that I’ve had a taste of that tight pussy, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll be going back for more.

  “Can’t hurt, right? Plus, the view…” It dawns on me, and I break out into a mischievous smile, that if her legs are up, her ass is out. “Yeah, go ahead and put them up.” She does, and the view is so fucking sexy I can feel the stirrings of arousal.

  Woah, boy, not yet.

  “How long do you think it’ll take to get pregnant?” She turns her head to follow me as I collect my boxer briefs and pants from the floor.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m pretty fucking sure you’re getting pregnant today. It’s a done deal.”

  “You sound awfully confident.”

  “You would be, too, if you knew how my father is. He’s got bastard children everywhere. We’re cut from the same cloth, with cum that can get a woman pregnant simply by being near her. Might as well just start calling me sperminator.” I chuckle.

  Of course, there’s another reason I’m so sure. But I’m not ready to have that conversation yet.

  It might’ve happened several years ago, but it’s still fucking raw.

  After I’ve zipped up my pants, I walk over to kiss her again; first on the lips, then on the forehead.

  She’s beautiful, and it’s not just me basking in the afterglow. Now that we’ve fucked, she’s all mine.

  Her hazel eyes search mine, really looking into me. I can almost feel them digging into the depths of my soul.

  There’s an unasked question floating around those green and amber specks, but it won’t remain unasked for long.

  “Just because your father has a bunch of kids doesn’t mean anything. We have studs and duds on the farm, some from the same bloodline.”

  Her farm references only make her that much more endearing. “Well, honey, I’m what you call a fucking stud. Definitely not a dud.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  That stops me in my tracks. Fuck. I meant it as a casual passing statement, but I forget just how perceptive she can be.

  She senses my hesitation. “Carter?”

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to share the story with her. With her, and only her.

  I brush my hair back as I slump into the executive chair. I don’t want to lie to her, so I make the decision that it was time to come clean.

  “Truth is, I am. Speaking from experience. It’s not pleasant, though. Not by a long shot.”

  She says nothing, but her eyes—laced with a mixture of concern and curiosity—beckon me to continue.

  “It was many years ago. The first time I ever had sex, actually.“ A rueful chuckle escapes me. “Figures, right? I was so happy to get my dick wet, and instead, I got the shittiest fucking deal of my life. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. Before she told me about the baby, she aborted the pregnancy.”

  A twinge of pain in my chest makes me inhale sharply. I don’t think this will ever get easier to talk about.

  “She’s also an addict. She was constantly snorting cocaine, and being pregnant didn’t change that. Quite the opposite, really. She started using more often, and every time I saw her, she was in a drug-fueled haze. Then she ran off with an older man, acting like nothing ever fucking happened.

  “Like that life inside of her was fucking meaningless. I mean she didn’t even tell me about it, for fuck’s sake. It was my baby, too, I had the right to know about it. Selfish fucking bitch.”

  June still isn’t saying anything, but I can see the hint of tears in her eyes. They’re now shining with compassion, as if she’s internalizing my pain.

  I definitely made the right choice with her. Holy shit.

  “Honestly, you’re the first woman I’ve fucked since then.”

  She cocks an eyebrow, disbelief written all over her face.

  “It’s the truth. I didn’t want to go through all that again. The pain, the anger, the self-loathing that came with not being able to do anything about it. I wanted the baby, and it’s not something that I can easily let go of.”

  “Wow.”

  “…yeah. It gets worse though, if you can believe that. When she came back around, she hopped into bed with Lawrence. As if it was nothing—just another frolic in the fucking hay.”

  June takes my hand into hers. “Well, I can’t fix the past, but I’m really sorry about what happened to you, and what you had to go through. All I can do is promise that this time will be different.”

  “Yeah, I know. It will be,” I rub my thumb over the back of her hand.

  It will be, because it’s you. I leave that thought unvoiced for now.

  As I get up to get a glass of water for June, the landline rings.

  Unthinkingly, I answer without seeing who it is.

  “Hello?”

  “Carter!” Well if it isn’t my dear ol’ dad. “Glad I caught ya. Listen, I got the kids here having dinner tonight. Why don’t you join us?”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever, we’ll come.” I hang up the phone and turn to June. “Well, whaddya say? You ready to meet the in-laws?”

  Taking a sip of water, June nods.

  “I don’t mind. But what am I going to wear?” I glance at her, and debate telling her to just go in her birthday suit, though I doubt she’d appreciate that. But Lawrence always has clothes scattered across his office anyway, so I’m sure I can find something for her in there.

  “You can leave that to me.”

  June

  “Stop fidgeting.” Carter puts the car into park and moves his hand from the gear shift to my bare thigh. Pretty high up on my bare thigh too, because this dress is short. “You look incredible.”

  “I look fast is what I look like,” I say, continuing to tug and shift in the dress he’s put me in. I’m trying to find a way to make it lie comfortably on my skin, but it’s tighter than anything I would ever willingly choose for myself—which is probably why Carter likes me in it. “Did you mean to make me look like a tart, or is this just fringe benefits for you?”

  Carter smirks and keeps smirking as he comes around the front of the car. He opens my door and leans in, stopping just short of a kiss.

  I lean into him, breathing in the already familiar scent, and he lays one on me. Carter’s kisses calm me down a little.

  For a second, anyway.

  “The two aren’t exactly mutually exclusive,” he says, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Why am I not surprised?” I grumble, taking his hand as he helps me out of the car.

  The dress is…

  Restricting my ability to fully draw in a breath. It’s somehow making me feel claustrophobic in my own body.

  I thought I was petite and slender, but whoever wore this dress before me must be an absolute dwarf of a woman.

  Either that, or she likes bearing everything and is comfortable showing ample amounts of skin—unlike me.

  “Are you sure this is the right kind of attire to be wearing t
o meet your family members for the first time?” I ask Carter with a protesting glance.

  He nods and grabs my butt, squeezing it tightly in his hand with his typical assertiveness.

  “Yes,” he whispers, and buries a kiss into my neck.

  I playfully push him away.

  “If your goal is to distract me mister, it’s not working.”

  Carter half-pouts for a moment, then breaks out into a grin.

  “You are a bad liar, you know.”

  I throw my hands up with playful mock-exasperation. “How do you always get your way?”

  “Easy.” He grins smugly. “I’m dashingly handsome.”

  “Okay.” I roll my eyes. “I guess you’ve got me there.”

  Apparently, he’s also always right.

  Carter takes my hand, and that’s enough for me to instantly feel safe and protected again.

  “Trust me,” he says. “They’re all going to absolutely adore you.”

  As we approach the mansion, I glance up to take it in. Carter’s father’s home is monstrously huge. With its location just outside the city, I can’t even imagine how much it’s worth.

  “It’s bigger than the mall in the town I grew up in!” I exclaim with a laugh.

  “There’s a kiosk inside with a map that shows you how to get to each room,” Carter states with nonchalance.

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” My voice comes out like a high-pitched squeak.

  Carter erupts into a fit of wild laughter, slapping his knee.

  “No, of course I’m not serious, you silly girl.”

  Carter slides his hand around my waist and pulls me closer to the door. Each step I take feels like a nail in my future coffin of humiliation, but I try to take slow, even breaths in an attempt to ward off a panic attack that’s brewing in the depths of my mind.

  I pretend that I’m wearing a normal dress that actually fits me—instead of this piece of cloth masquerading as a garment. Not only is this dress too small for me, it would probably be too small for a Barbie doll.

  As we arrive at the front door after what feels like an interminable, slow motion waltz, Carter pauses and grins—maybe out of warm affection, maybe out of amusement at my nervousness. There’s no time to worry about what Carter’s smile means, though, as I’m busy trying to gather an internal boost of confidence.

  “Are you ready for this, darling?” Carter continues to smile.

  “Are you sure we can’t just go to dinner somewhere else?” I laugh, even at my own feeble attempt at a joke in this nerve-wracking moment.

  “You are going to knock ‘em out of the park with your charisma and charm,” he says.

  “I think you are confusing me with yourself.” I scoff.

  Carter opens the door and places his hand on the small of my back, coaxing me inside no matter how reluctant and hesitant my stride becomes, going through the door.

  It’s not that I’m not excited to meet his family, because I am. It’s just…well…I wish I could be wearing something that doesn’t paint an invisible tramp stamp over me.

  “The life of the party has arrived, you can all bow down now,” Carter roars through the house with a smirk on his face.

  A heat of embarrassment flushes my face, and I grip Carter’s hand so tightly I’m certain I might fracture a few of his bones. Luckily, he doesn’t even flinch.

  At any rate, he’s my lifeline, so I can’t collapse on top of myself like a heap of crumpled clothes.

  A guy who looks shockingly like Carter traipses confidently into the room with an overzealous grin on his face.

  I recognize Lawrence from seeing him in the office the day before. He’s also a walking carbon copy of Carter, so it’s not too difficult to guess.

  While their personalities are quite different, they’re so physically similar that anybody who can see would peg them as brothers.

  “Hey, brother.” After Lawrence’s greeting, he and Carter reel each other in for a bro handshake and a slap on the back. “I see you brought dessert.”

  I shift my weight uncomfortably. Lawrence is clearly undressing me with his eyes. He’s practically drooling before Carter interrupts his fantasy.

  “Come on, dude, have some class.” Carter lectures with a condescending roll of his eyes. It doesn’t faze his arrogant brother in the slightest.

  “I hear voices in the foyer.” A male voice bellows from another room.

  I look up to find an exact replica of the twins, only older.

  Mike Abraham struts into the room like he owns the place. Well, to be fair, he does. Metaphorically and literally speaking.

  He has the same cool blue eyes and straight, dark hair. His lips are curling in a mischievous grin that I recognize all too well from looking at Carter.

  “Hey, dad.” Carter leans in and gives his trusty ole’ dad a solid fist bump. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Who do we have here?” Mr. Abraham glances at me with enthusiasm and a sparkle in his eyes.

  Carter faces me and gestures. “Dad, this is June Johnson.”

  “It’s so lovely to meet you, Mr. Abraham.” I extend a hand to shake with Carter’s dad.

  “Please, call me Mike.” He has a whimsical smirk on his face.

  “Mike…” I whisper and trail off with a nod and a smile.

  “Well, what the hell are we still doing in here? Let’s eat!” Mike claps his hands together and beckons us to follow him into the living room.

  Carter instructs me to take a seat beside him at the end of the table. Lawrence sits on the opposite side.

  I’m beside Carter while his father sits at the head of the table. Beside me, on the right, is one of Mike’s many children. He has the confidence that seems to run in the family—as well as a shock of curly brown hair that sits like an unruly mop on his head.

  “Dexter.” He introduces himself to me with just his name before addressing the entire table. “Take a look at that loaf of bread. It looks just like a ball sack!”

  Well, that’s an obnoxious way to start dinner.

  People chuckle out of the graciousness of their personalities, but inside, I’m just repulsed by this weirdo.

  “Don’t listen to him,” a round-bellied pregnant girl tells me from the other side of the table. She has auburn-colored hair and a warm smile.

  The pregnant woman cuts into her steak with enthusiasm.

  “I’m eating for two,” she says and pops a piece of meat into her mouth.

  “That’s Dexter’s wife, Anne,” Carter explains and gestures to her.

  Anne bows her head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You as well,” I say shyly.

  “Anyway,” she goes on after swallowing her mouthful, “you’ll have to forgive my husband Dexter. He’s a bit…” She trails off and looks up at the ceiling while pondering how to describe him. “…stunted when it comes to people. Communicationally challenged.”

  This makes me laugh. She seems genuine and fun, and her humor appeals to me.

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “I’m used to getting insults from the wife.” Dexter points his knife playfully in Anne’s direction and rolls his eyes as if he just has to live with the torment.

  “Oh, stop it.” Anne’s holding her own.

  “You’ll know what that’s like soon enough to have an ole’ ball and chain, eh, Carter?”

  Lawrence nudges his twin in the side, and I can’t help but notice how Carter’s jaw flinches at the dig from his brother.

  It’s not like Carter and I are professing our love for one another or announcing an engagement or something.

  Luckily, I can hold my own against pompous assholes like Lawrence any day.

  “I’m sure when Carter’s ready, he’ll make a great husband,” I fire back.

  Lawrence’s eyes narrow in on me, but he doesn’t retort. I smugly glance back at Anne, my new friend. I’m ready to change the subject.

  “So, when are you due?”

/>   “Three weeks.” Anne rubs her belly affectionately with a dreamy expression on her face.

  “Anne has the body type to look really good while pregnant—unlike some people,” Lawrence blurts out from the peanut gallery, offering unwanted commentary yet again.

  Then, he dares to take it a step forward. “She also knows what clothes to wear that will actually fit her.”

  He laughs at his own appalling, unfunny joke. I don’t appreciate the snide remarks, and neither does Carter.

  “Well, if you’ve got it, flaunt it, is all I can say.” I give Lawrence a look that dares him to fire back another round.

  No, this is not exactly the outfit I would have chosen for myself, but when life gives you lemons...

  Carter and I high five secretly under the table. I bet nobody ever stands up to Lawrence, not until tonight.

  “I personally think you both look stunning. Two lovely ladies, indeed. To new women and new babies.” Mike raises his glass for a toast.

  “I’ll drink to that,” I quip with a smile.

  Anne holds up a glass of water. “I’ll just drink my water.”

  Everyone roars with laughter at Anne’s pregnancy joke.

  “I think that will suit you just fine,” I tell her.

  I glance over at Mike, who he gives me a wink and an approving nod. It looks like I’m a hit with him, which is what really matters tonight.

  After dinner, just as we’re walking out the door, Carter stops me on the way back to his car.

  “Hey,” he says, pulling me close, “you were amazing tonight.”

  “You really think so?” I beam with pride.

  “Are you kidding? My father absolutely loved you.”

  “He’s not so bad, either,” I mention. “Anne seems really sweet, too.”

  Carter’s expression carries more than a hint of lust.

  “Not as sweet as you. You’re the red Starburst among all the other orange ones.”

  “Wow,” I laugh. “Now that’s a compliment.”

  “Come here, you sexy little thing.” Carter grabs my ass and presses his lips to mine, embracing me in a passion-filled kiss. “Thank you,” he finally says after we come up for air.

  “For what?” I ask with confusion.

  “For being amazing, witty, and smart. That was one of the best family dinners I’ve ever had.”