by Thorne, Gigi
“All right. I’ll give you a pass because I like the logic behind your disobedience. So, the fifth and final ground rule. You are to look directly into my eyes the entire time I’m with you tonight, or you will be punished. The only exception is if I tell you to turn your back to me for whatever reason. Do you understand, Shana?”
Her gaze lifts from a spot near my groin and meets mine. “Yes.”
“Good.” I lean back in the chair and stretch out my legs, giving myself room to stroke my cock as I watch the show I’ll make her put on for me. “Let’s start with something simple. Slowly spin around for me and show me all of your beautiful curves. Make sure you do it well for me, and slowly. Let those heels do their job.”
My Shana does what she is told, taking teasingly slow baby steps to turn all the way around for me. Her knees bend one at a time, and when they do, her hip lifts, then the other lowers, and those perfectly thick thighs rub together a little, bringing my attention up to the darkened slit between her bare pink folds. I can hardly keep it together.
“Keep going until your back is turned to me,” I instruct. My hand is tight around my shaft after she makes a full two turns, the dot of precum at the tip a sign of how fucking hard and ready she makes me. “Once you’re facing away from me, I want you to look back over your shoulder at me. You are to lick your lips the entire way around.”
She does what I ask, and my cock jumps in my hand. It can’t fucking wait to feel those lips around it.
“Come here, and kneel at my feet, dirty girl,” I continue, and she obeys.
“Open your mouth.” Her jaw slackens and her bright red lips part. For me. Just inches from the tip of my cock. I want to drive my cock past those red lips and fuck that mouth, but I don’t. I won’t claim the princess’s innocence tonight. Not in the pure sense at least. And she won’t be allowed to touch me. I’m as good as dead anyway, so there’s no point taking her most precious gift from her unless I can live to be the only man to have her.
“Run one hand over your big tits for me.”
She obeys, piercing my eyes with her need-filled gaze, telling me without words how much she loves this.
“Put your other hand between your legs,” I demand. “Make sure you lick your two fingers… slowly, then slide them inside your pussy for me like a good girl.”
As she does it, her hips start to rock into the movement, and a moan leaves her lips. So fucking gorgeous. But when her eyelids begin to droop closed, I’m forced to reach forward and grip a fistful of her thick flowing hair from behind her head. That gets her attention. Her eyes flash a shocked, fiery gaze up at me. “I told you I’d punish you if you disobey,” I explain. “Keep your eyes open and only on me, Shana.”
With a nod, her eyes are locked with mine again, full of both defiance and excitement, and I release my hold on her hair.
“Tell me how wet you are, Shana.”
“I’m… I’m really wet, Wes,” she answers.
“Show me. Show me your dripping wet fingers.”
Fuck. My dirty princess disobeys. Yes, she does indeed remove her fingers, but she doesn’t show them to me. No. My bad girl grips the arms of the chair I’m sitting in, pulls herself to standing, then shocks the fuck out of me by turning around and sitting in my lap. It’s a damn good thing that I have these boxers on still, and I’m lucky she doesn’t make contact with my cockhead at the right angle. I’d shove my boxers aside and be balls deep inside of her if she did. Thank fuck that doesn’t happen, but I need to keep her in line right now. At the moment, her slick folds rub along my cockhead with only my boxers between us, and my shaft is harder than steel as it gets the best fucking raw lap dance ever. I need to stop her, but it feels so fucking good that I indulge her for another minute. As I do, I look down between us, closer to my limit each time my shaft appears and disappears past her ass cheeks.
But when she reaches her hand around and tries to grip the shaft and guide my dick inside, it’s time to stop.
Everything has to stop, and that’s because I know I won’t be able to stop her the next time she crosses the line.
With one fluid movement, I turn and lift her body, picking her up as I rise from the chair. Less than a minute later, I’ve deposited her into her bed, thrown my clothes back on, and informed her that our play time is over.
“You’re stopping?” she asks, concerned. “I’ll be good now, Wes. I promise.”
“There’s something I have to do. It may take me some time, but when I’m back, you’ll get your real punishment for disobeying me. Now get some rest, Shana. And don’t forget who owns you while I’m gone.”
I hear some objection from her as I leave the room, but she’ll have to wait. I can hardly keep my hands off of her. Whatever control I thought I had, it’s lost.
I’ll solve this problem of who’s behind that threatening phone call and let the chips fall.
If there’s anything as dumb luck or wild luck, I’m fucking going to need it. Because luck is the only way I’ll survive this.
10
Charlotte
I’m tingling from my head to my toes when Wes leaves. And I’m angry. And sexually frustrated.
Did he really just bend my will to his?
He really did.
And I loved every second of it.
But it’s not enough. It was just starting to get interesting.
I kick off the backless Christian Dior stilettos Wes made me wear for him, and I slump into bed. Every nerve ending is firing. Need and pleasure still rock through my body from what he started. Then he just upped and left with no explanation, but I’m still wet with desire and hungry to continue. Ravenous for his body on mine.
And he’s gone.
Flopping around angrily in the bed, I curse the moment I met this man.
It’s only a while after that I notice how quiet everything is. The workers are gone, finally giving me the peace and quiet I need for my mind to function. Not wanting to waste the time, I scoop up my phone to see if Helena messaged me earlier. There’s nothing from my sister, but with the battery running at twenty-two percent charge, I plug it into the charger and sink into bed again. Not long after, in spite of having slept for almost the entire day, a heavy exhaustion hits me, and I let myself doze off.
* * *
Helena has avoided me for three days.
I haven’t seen Wes at all either.
Something’s going on, and no one is talking.
I sit on my enclosed veranda, looking out at the streets and building in the distance. There’s no doubt in my mind. The flurry of crown security vehicles racing through the streets, their sirens wailing, news coverage of secret raids and searches, all tell me that the people we trust to protect us are working overtime to investigate and neutralize the threat against my sister.
As she crosses my mind again, I pick up my phone and send her a short text, and within minutes, she reconnects with me.
Me: Where are you? Who do I need to talk to about the issue of another heir?
Helena: Don’t you dare, sister. I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can.
Me: I know you’ve been dodging me.
Helena: We’ve been busy. It’s complicated. But I’ll see you soon. I promise.
Me: Fine.
I huff out a breath and set my phone down, but the truth is, I trust her. She has to have her reasons. She also can’t tell me anything by phone, considering that whoever’s been after her seems to have sophisticated tech skills and may find a way to tap into our conversations. Still, it feels like I’m the only one wrapped in the bubble of ignorance. I want to help where I can, but at the moment, as per usual, I’ve been benched.
11
Wes
I kick the heavy entryway door on the main floor of Princess Charlotte’s quarters to close it. The royal guards who protect her almost didn’t allow me in this time.
The reason is simple.
When a wicked man like me decides to start doing good with his life to help
others, shit happens.
That’s why it took me three days to make it back here. I left the princess’s side three nights ago, voluntarily stuck my neck out to report what I know about the present threat to Crown Princess Helena, and what did the crown security do when I demanded to speak to my king? They shackled me, shoved me in an interview room, dug into my shady as fuck background and checkered criminal record, fingerprinted me, did some fucked up DNA testing on me, interrogated my sketchy ass, and held me for rigorous questioning.
For close to three fucking days.
And for some reason, after my DNA tests came back, they kept asking me about who I was associated with in Parogon, one of the neighboring kingdoms. I told them time and time again that I’ve never fucking been out of Gideanor in my life, so how the fuck would I know about anyone in Parogon?
Lucky for me, someone on their payroll actually took a second to take their head out of their ass and look into what I showed up here to report to them in the first place.
The details about the Hands of the Four.
It’s this detail mentioned by Crown Princess Helena that got my mental gears grinding to a screeching halt once I had made it home that night the two sisters were talking about it.
Saul, the man who took me in, was an avid chess player. He would go to the park for a few hours every day to sit and play with his old retired buddies. One of those old geezers used to shout out that phrase whenever he won a chess match. The royalty must die at the Hands of the Four, he would say instead of check or checkmate. I remember because I never understood what the fuck it meant, and had asked Saul if his friend was one card short of a full deck, so to speak. Saul would shrug and tell me the old guy was a retired pilot from the crown’s air brigade, and that the man had every right to act crotchety and constantly complain because he had seen more of his fair share of horror in the not so friendly skies, back when the kingdom was mired in regional and international conflict.
But I’d always felt there was more to the phrase.
By the looks of it, I’m right.
Because here I am, a free man again. I’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing, my employment clearance to work at the palace has been reinstated, and crown security is directing their resources where they need to.
All that remains for me now is to pick up where I left off three days ago with Princess Charlotte.
First, she needs to be punished for grinding her sweet ass on my cock, even if I enjoyed every second of it.
Then, we’ll get to the good part.
Except, when I climb the stairs to the second floor and find her standing outside her bedroom, with her eyes narrowed and her posture regal and tight, I know my plans may be up in the air.
“You shall bow to your princess,” she demands. “Kneel.”
I play along for a bit, dropping to one knee just to have an idea where she’s going with this, assuming it’s a turning of the tables.
But it’s not, and I know it isn’t when she adds, “Do you swear fealty to the throne of Gideanor? To honor and obey all decrees, both written and expressed?”
Well shit, if I knew I’d have to swear allegiance to the crown tonight, I’d dress a little more formally.
I lower my head to the floor and answer, “I do, Your Highness.”
“By royal decree, I am henceforth added to your charge. You shall carry me to my bed, undress me, please me, then take me hard.”
She was doing so well. Right up to the last part. Well, it’s not so much the statement as it is her delivery. It’s hard to take a princess seriously when hints of her own laughter muffle her own order. But she is a princess, and I am a loyal follower.
So, I follow her command.
I just hope she doesn’t start to believe that I’ll let her make a habit of this.
12
Wes
"I'm happy to serve at the request of the princess," I say, and see the excitement and mildly entertained gleam in her eye as I scoop her into my arms.
"Took you long enough," she answers in a sweet voice that's heavy with longing.
Suddenly I realize how much I must have piled onto her frustration. Her sensual life until now is a paradox. In every other way, she can have anything she wants, but in the bedroom, she has had nothing. She's been starving for carnal human physical touch, and because of her status, her station, she’s been denied the thing she longs for, the same way a hungry, homeless person is deprived of food and shelter.
Then I showed up. It's as though I dangled food in front of the homeless, then stuffed it into a bowl and ran off with it—twice.
"I regret my part in prolonging your agony, Your Highness," I tell her. "But you have my word that it ends here. Right now."
Her arms tighten around my neck, and she nods. "Take off your clothes and show me. Don't tell me."
That mouth. That mind. I fucking love her determination. Her resolve has its own effect on me as I lower her into bed, locked onto each other's gazes. I want to glean every bit of need from her and use my body to reflect it back to her and more.
She shivers when her back hits the cool bedsheets. I peel off every item of clothing, and lowering in beside her, I cup her face from my spot at one side of her bed. Her pulse is racing. I can feel the vein at her throat jump.
Burying my hands in her hair, I give her one last look before I connect my mouth to hers.
So fucking soft, these lips.
Her small frame turns toward my looming body, and she tugs fistfuls of my shirt into her hands as we deepen the kiss. I trace my hand down her sides, my thick fingers hot and tingling, like they know the reverence of the moment.
She lifts a leg from her spot on her side and runs her inner calf up my outer leg. I can't stop myself from glancing down in the direction of my prize. The thin flowy pajama dress she has on allows the soft lighting to give me a view of her inner thighs.
My princess slides her hands up from my abs to my pecs, and her lower body cleaves to mine.
"Please just take it," she whispers against my mouth.
"Take what?" I ask.
"Take... me."
"That's the plan, Princess."
"No, I mean now. Right now. I just want to feel you inside me," she insists with a confidence that I'm starting to love.
Taking her chin, I kiss her hard again. "You'll miss out on the best possible parts."
"I don't care."
She brings her raised leg up, making her bent knee touch her upper arm. "No. Now."
I fucking lose every hint of reasons to draw out the moment at the sight of so many pink shades of her pussy, from her folds, to the slit of her opening, to her tender, swollen clit.
Kissing her mouth again, I cover her breasts with one hand, drag her hips to me, and tease her with my cock a little.
But she doesn't want any more of that.
"In me. Now. Everyone needs to stop telling me what I need and start giving me what I want—oooooh."
While she's busy making demands, I let my cock breach her... then I sink into the tightest untouched pussy ever.
"Yes," she cries, wincing from the sting or pain. "Just like that.”
She groans as her hips make tiny rolls, using the movement to ease the pressure she must be feeling from being filled beyond capacity. Must be, because her inner walls feel like a second skin to me, a hot, tight, force clenching my cock in all the right ways.
Lowering my head, I push her dress down past her breasts and circle her nipple, capturing the stiff, puckered spot between my teeth and rolling it on my tongue. She hisses out a loud moan of primal longing, and with her hands on my biceps, pushes back her hips and drives it forward. I love the look on her face as she's pumping, taking what she wants, using my dick like I plan to use her for a long time to come.
If that's in the cards.
And as her body starts to shudder, taking her last bit of control through the beginning of a wicked orgasm, I bring my mouth to her earlobe and whisper, "Yes, my dirty girl. Cum har
d for the man who owns you now. You're all mine now. No one else can have you. No one else should dare try to take you from me."
I watch her glorious face for the entire time that she comes undone, smoothing my hand down her back and through her thick hair.
With her breathing coming under control, her eyes lift to meet mine. "I know... I'm yours. You have me now. I know nothing about who you are... where you're from, why you're the man that you are, but I'm smart enough to know you've already given up everything... taken every risk to be here. I can't wait to find out more..." she puts my hand on her heart. "But here, I know enough."
She's right. And she proves me right for the rest of the night and the next full day when I play out every fucking fantasy I’ve ever had with her. On the floor. On the bathroom counter. In the middle of her massive walk-in closet. I especially enjoyed spreading her out on her back on top of the table-sized shoe counter in there. She was happy to comply when I ordered her to hang her head off the edge so I could fuck her sweet mouth while I watcher her finger herself and play with her beautiful tits.
So fucking hot.
As hard as it is for an unloved, unwanted man like me to admit, I don't know exactly when or why, but I already love this woman.
I guess what Saul used to say—that wisdom isn't only the possession of the old—is correct. My princess is the living breathing embodiment of that truth.
And I can't wait to prove her right.
13
Charlotte
Three Months Later
I stand three steps down from my sister in the packed yet orderly Grand Chapel of Gideanor. Only royal milestone events are held here. Weddings, funerals, and baptisms. Today, we’re at the joining of my sister, the Crown Princess and her impending husband Daniel Windham, soon to be Duke of the region of Parogon.