by Madison Faye
“So who’s this husband?”
“I— I don’t know him.”
I wanted to punch myself. Why the heck had I just told him that?
“Marrying a guy you don’t know?”
I wanted to backpedal, and lie or something, but instead, all I could do was nod.
God his hand feels so good.
He squeezed my ass through my thin dress, making me whimper softly as heat roared through me.
“But he at least fucks you good, right?”
I blush furiously.
“That’s very inappropriate,” I hissed, my face burning.
“It’s a legitimate question. You’re the one marrying the guy you don’t know. I’m just curious if at the very least, he can treat you like the princess you are in bed.”
“I— I—” Heat teased through me as I looked at my slippered feet. I had no idea who this man was, but here I was letting him — quite willingly — put his hand on my ass, and say all these filthy, highly inappropriate things to me.
“I don’t know,” I finally spit out.
My gorgeous stranger stopped us in our tracks.
“You don’t know?”
He turned towards me, and I gasped as his hand came up to touch my chin. He lifted my head up, until his eyes burned right into mine, sending a lightning bolt right through me.
“You don’t know because he hasn’t, has he?” he growled lowly.
I nodded, swallowing thickly.
“My, my, my,” he purred. “That’s a shame.”
“What’s a shame?” I whispered quietly.
“That you’re going to tie yourself to some guy and you don’t even know if he’s going to spread that tight little pussy of yours and fill it like it should be.”
I gasped, loudly, my face bright red as my jaw dropped.
“You don’t know if he’s going to tease that little clit with his tongue until you come for him. And you don’t know if his thick cock is going to make that sweet cunt come so good.”
I panted, my head absolutely swimming as his filthy words — words no one had ever spoken to me — teased over me.
“But then…”
He leaned close his gaze growing hotter. I whimpered as he pulled me close, his hand sliding over my hips.
“But then, you don’t have anything to compare it to anyways, do you?”
“Wh-what?” I gasped quietly.
He grinned.
“I can smell it on you, Princess.”
I swallowed heavily, my pulse racing and my whole body tingling with raw need. My core tightened, and I could feel how damn wet my panties were, clinging to my lips with sticky heat.
“Smell what?” I mumbled.
“Your innocence. Your purity. I can smell that no other man has ever spread those thighs and gotten to taste that sweet, tight little cherry.”
Slowly, I shook my head, my whole body on fire from his words and my face burning like the sun.
“You can’t talk to me like this,” I said tightly.
“Yes I can.”
“No, you—”
“And you want me to.”
His voice purred through my ears, making me shiver as he moved closer to me. My breath caught in my throat and every inch of my skin tingled with the nearness of him and the heat radiating off of him.
Get yourself together, lady!
I glanced to my left and realized we were right in front of the doorway to the banquet hall. The heat burned into my face all over again. I mean God, what if the doors had been opened? What if someone had seen me out here, blushing and getting all tongue-tied with some gorgeous, filthy-talking stranger. The one with his hand still on my ass, and his lips so freaking close to kissing mine that I could feel my head spinning.
What if Rourke was in there and had happened to see his new bride fawning all over some stupidly hot…well, whoever the hell he was. It’s not like I was worried about hurting the feelings of the man who’d bought me, but I could only imagine the shitstorm my mother would rain down if this deal of hers fell through.
Somehow, though I have no idea how, I pulled away from the stranger.
“You need to leave,” I said tersely, somehow scowling but also craving that hand of his back on me.
He glanced up at the door behind me and raised a brow. “It seems we’re going to the same place, Princess.”
“Fine,” I spat, totally aware of how bratty it made me look but trying not to care. I just had to get away from this man before I lost myself entirely.
“Well, I’m going inside now, so just leave me alone.”
He grinned. “I’m not sure you want that.”
I bit my lip.
“I have to go inside.”
The sexy as sin stranger simply let his eyes pour over me again before he stepped past me and grabbed the big iron door handle in his powerful hand.
“Ladies first, Your Highness,” he purred, swinging the door open.
I swallowed quickly and strode through, gasping quietly as I felt his palm cup my ass again on my way past him, making me shiver.
My mother glanced up from her glass of wine, surrounded by her annoying little entourage of stylists, publicity managers, and hangers-on, and when she saw me, she beamed.
“Oh hello!”
She laughed gleefully, shoving her glass into someone’s hand and running over.
“You made it!”
Wait, what?
And suddenly, my stomach sank, as my mother brushed right past me and threw her arms around the stranger’s neck. My stranger — the one who’d seen me practically naked. The one who’d hugged my small body to his muscled, big one. The one whose forbidden hand on my ass the whole walk here had left a tingling heat between my legs.
My mother hugged him tight, kissing his cheek and running her hands up and down his chest in a way that made my blood absolutely boil. Which was totally ridiculous, I knew, but I couldn’t help it. And then of course I felt completely idiotic for getting all mushy over, and then jealous over one of my mothers stupid boy toys.
“Well this is wonderful!” my mother crowed. “You’ve met Colette!”
She turned and beamed at me, and my lips pursed tight as I glared past her at the smug, dark, gorgeous, unreadable face of my mystery man.
“Yes, we have,” I said tersely, swallowing the heat from my face as the memory of his lips so close to mine and his hands on me came rushing back.
“Well?”
I frowned in confusion at the way my mother was just staring at me expectantly, her brows raised.
“Well…what?”
What, did she want my freaking approval of her new boy toy? Yeah, that would be a new one.
But she only rolled her eyes as she sighed and strode towards me.
“Well what do you think of Rourke?”
The whole room froze.
My stomach dropped, my pulse skipped a beat, and my jaw dropped. Slowly, I dragged my wide, unbelieving eyes back over his muscled chest, and his broad strong shoulders, and his chiseled, perfect jaw, and those gorgeous, dark, smokey eyes.
No way.
“This is Rourke, dear.” My mother beamed benignly at me. “Your new husband.”
Rourke — my stranger, my weakness, and my destiny — slowly grinned at me.
Oh God.
3
Rourke
“You knew?!” she hissed as we moved to the huge table set for dinner.
Of course I knew.
Of course I knew who she was for longer than she fucking knows. Her mother and the customs of her kingdom wouldn’t let her date, or see suitors or anything like that until she was eighteen. I’d been there, at her “unveiling ball” — the birthday party that her mother invited a gazillion strangers to in her quest to auction her damn daughter off. I’d been there, and when I’d laid my eyes on Colette, I knew I was done for.
I’d seen the way she was so gorgeous and pure — a mix of too smart for all this bullshit and wide-eyed inn
ocence. And then that touch of brattiness. And it fucking turned me on — a rebellious streak I knew I could and wanted to tame, like a wild horse I’d make mine.
She’s had suitors since then. Hell, she had suitors that night. Three of them. One was smart enough to walk away. The other wanted to get paid like some little bitch. I did, but not before I laid him out with a fist to the mouth for being a cretin.
Yeah, I knew who she was. I’d seen her that night a year before, but I knew then that as much as I wanted her — as much as I craved her — I knew the best thing I could ever do for a girl like her was to walk away. She was too sweet, too good. And a broken, angry, solitary man like myself would only soil that innocence, and drag her down to my level.
So I walked away, and I did everything in my power to put her out of mind.
…Until I couldn’t anymore.
It started as a business move. My company was expanding into the Middle East, but I was hitting a roadblock. The Saudis saw an unmarried man as a business liability. Unmarried meant “ungrounded” which meant investments were slow to come in. Contracts weren’t given where they would have been elsewhere at the drop of a hat.
Bottom line, I needed a wife. Now.
I had no time for “dating” and “seeing” people. No fucking interest either. And part of that was that I was a busy fucking man, but the other part — the bigger part which I’d hidden away away from myself — was that a piece of me never left that ballroom on Colette’s eighteenth birthday. I’d done everything in my power to put her out of mind and stay the hell away from her, to not even think of her, but it was a losing war.
I’d seen the unattainable. My eyes had tasted the forbidden fruit, and I wanted fucking more. I wanted all of her. I needed all of her. And when I found out Monty fucking Scott was seeking her hand, and had been granted it by Colette’s mother, I couldn’t possibly stay away any longer. A piece of human trash like Prince Scott thinking he could take what was mine shattered the last of my resolve.
No other man would have her. No one else would try and tame that fiery, bratty, sassy, mouth. No one else would watch those lips fall open in cries of pleasure as he drove his cock deep inside her untouched, virgin little cunt.
No, all of that would be for me and me only.
So I acted. And now here we were — the beast inside of me growling and clawing to get out as I watch that look in her eyes as it dawned on her who I am. My cock throbbed at that wide-eyed look. It’s the look I hoped she’d make when I slid every inch of my thickness deep inside of her for the very first time. It’s the look she’ll give me when I tear her panties to the side and run my tongue up and down her slick, honeyed pussy.
My cock pulsed as I imagine the sounds she’ll make when my tongue curls around her clit.
“Of course I knew who you were,” I growled into her ear as she huffed her way to the dinner table. I could see the way the skin of her neck pricked into goosebumps at my voice, and the way her breath caught.
Oh, she would be mine. And soon.
“Well, way to just hold back on that one. Asshole,” she grumbled over her shoulder.
“Brat.”
She gasped as I grabbed her ass as we approached the table, her lips opening so sweetly and her body coiling against me.
“You can’t do that,” she hissed.
“Yes, I can.” I moved to pull a chair out for her, but used the opportunity to pin her against it, my eyes blazing into hers as I pressed my body tight to hers.
“You’re going to be my mine, Princess.”
Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, and that sexy little tongue of hers darted out to wet her soft pink lips. I wondered if her pussy lips were the same enticing, soft shade of pink.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she sassed back.
“Well, you don’t.”
She glared at me as I grinned right back at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t,” I said plainly. “I’m settling your mother’s considerable debts for your hand.”
Her eyes blazed at that one, and fuck did it make my blood run hot and my cock ache to be released inside of her.
“You can’t just buy me,” she muttered, still pinned between my body and the large, high-backed dining chair.
“I did,” I purred, reaching out and brushing a lock of her wild, untamed blonde hair behind her ear. I longed to grab the rest of it in a fist and pull her head back while I ran my lips up that chaste, pure neck. I longed to hear that bratty mouth cry out in pleasure as I tugged her hair back and drove every inch of my cock inside her velvety soft, untouched pussy.
Colette’s face burned bright red, as if I were whispering my filthy thoughts right into her ear. She pursed her lips and finally pulled away from me, twisting and sitting down in a huff.
I grinned.
She was bad at hiding it — the heat in her eyes, and the way her body arched towards mine. She might have been telling herself that she despised me, but every single way she moved and breathed and hesitated told me otherwise. She wanted to hate me, or make me think she did, but she didn’t.
Not at all. That was obvious. No, it wasn’t hatred in her eyes.
It was lust. It was want, and curiosity, and a yearning to let go of that uptight, good-girl, princess mask and let me do every single dirty, filthy thing that she’d always secretly fantasized about.
Fuck, I wondered if her little pussy was getting hotter and wetter as she wondered what I had in store for her.
We all sat, me right next to my soon-to-be bride and grinning as I ignored her little pouts. Soon, I’d tame that bratty little sass. But for the time being, I sat there and smiled, nodding and pretending I was listening to her mother’s half-drunk banter and gossip about various royal goings on.
I hated this shit. I hadn’t grown up royal, and this petty shit didn’t interest me in the slightest. I had nothing against royalty, per se, but most of the ones I’d met had just made my blood boil, especially the rich, snobby princely-types who’d never worked a day in their lives. Me? I’d worked my ass off for every dime I had now. I was rich — richer than a lot of princes, truth be told — but I’d earned it off the sweat of my brow.
My father started the company, but I’d taken the small local excavation company and grown it into a worldwide powerhouse. I’d quietly bought up half the drilling and mining rights on the damn planet. And now, here I was, sitting at a queen’s table, about to marry her princess of a daughter.
My parents would have never believed it.
My dad had passed when I was twenty and just starting out in the family company. But my mother had died much younger, when I was just a boy. They might not have given me a crown, but they’d given me bigger hearts than I could ever have asked for.
I knew Maryanne, Colette’s mother, was one of those old-school types who had probably balked at the idea of a “non-royal” marrying her daughter. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned becoming one of the richest men on the planet, it’s this: money fucking talks. And when it came to paying off her debts and letting her continue to live in the fashion she’d become accustomed to, Maryanne was more than willing to take cash over a crown.
Suited me just fucking fine, because it meant I got her.
It meant Colette would be mine.
So, Rourke,”
Maryanne’s drunken slurring snapped me to attention.
“You train horses as a hobby, don’t you?”
“I do, Your Highness.”
Maryanne blushed, waving at me flirtingly.
“Oh, such a chivalrous tease.”
I smiled curtly at the half-drunk queen, but I could see Colette’s jaw tighten next to me.
Interesting.
“Colette rides, you know.”
“Oh does she?”
I turned and ginned hungrily at my soon-to-be bride, watching her face burn red.
“And do you enjoy riding, Princess?”
She blushed fu
riously.
Good.
Colette pursed her lips, and I knew she wanted to say something but she bit her tongue back and nodded.
“Yes,” she growled.
“Fast or slow?”
Her face flushed an even brighter red.
I was enjoying this.
So was she.
“Depends on the horse,” she said quickly, making me grin at that hidden sass as she turned to her plate.
Little tease.
Two could play that game though. I dropped my hand under the table, and when I moved it to her knee, she jolted like I’d just touched her with lightning. She gasped quietly and shot me a look, but I kept my hand firmly on her knee.
“Oh, she’s quite good,” Maryanne went on from down the long banquet table. “Good form and position.”
“I’d love to see that some day, Princess,” I purred hungrily. “Soon,” I growled, my hand sliding higher and tugging her gown up with it. Fuck, I could almost feel the heat from her soaked little panties from here, and I was only at her knee. I groaned to myself, pulling her knee towards me and spreading her legs wide under the table, like it might let me feel her heat or smell her arousal.
She gasped quietly, and she went to close her legs, but I held them firm.
“Just like that, Princess,” I growled quietly into her ear, moving close under the pretense of reaching for one of the dinner dishes. “Keep your pretty legs just like that for me.”
Her breath caught, and her eyes blazed something fierce at me as she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. Slowly, her legs relaxed, and when I felt her spread them wider under the table, I groaned as my cock fucking lurched in my pants.
“I’d love to take you riding someday soon, Princess,” I said evenly, keeping my lust barely in check for the sake of the table. For the sake of not tearing her dress off, bending her over, and fucking her like she deserved to be fucked right here at the dinner table.
“I have a huge steed you’d be perfect for.”
Colette’s breath caught as she looked away, her cheeks burning red.
Maryanne clapped drunkenly down the table. “Oh, marvelous!”
The rest of the table fell into a jumble of mixed conversations about horses, and I took the opportunity to move close to Colette, my lips brushing against her ear and making her gasp.