by Frankie Love
“What is it? Do you want me to stop?” Hunter asks.
“No, don’t stop. I want this all so much. Want you so much.”
My fingers dig into the waistband of his boxers. I inch them down and my hands run over his firm ass cheeks. Even those are chiseled and formed to muscular perfection. His body is a piece of art; his physical adventures across the forest of Cressia have caused his body to be as sculpted as the mountain ridges around us.
My core is on fire, and he helps me by pulling his boxers off. He sits up and rests on his knees before me.
I lift myself up on my elbows, so I can look at him better. And, oh my word, everything I see is everything I imagined. Times two.
Maybe times three.
All I know is, his cock is huge.
I smile, and a laugh escapes me as I try to imagine that inside of me. “There’s no way, Hunter. I don’t think this can physically work.”
“Your pussy is nice and tight, Sunshine, but I’ll go nice and slow. I’ll enter your body one inch at a time, and once I fill you, once the tip of my cock knocks against the deepest part of you, you’ll be glad I did.”
Hunter strokes his shaft and I reach for it too, both of our hands wrapping around his length. His silky smooth rod surprises me. It’s so hard, and yet so soft.
“You like that? You like touching me?” Hunter’s eyes are hooded. The sexual tension between us is ready to snap. We’re both primed for this moment.
“I do. I like touching you so much. I want … more.”
Hunter knows what I want, and he reaches over to his pants and pulls out a foil wrapper.
My eyes narrow, surprised that he’s getting a condom.
“I’m not going to knock you up before you’re married, Sunshine. And I know the moment I put myself in you, without a barrier, my seed is going to swell inside you, and you will be filled with the heir of Cressia. I have no doubt about that. So tonight, Violet, I’m going to do right by you.”
I exhale, realizing it isn’t because he doesn’t want to fill me with his seed. It’s because he wants to do this as honorably as possible.
He rolls the condom over his thickness, and I swear the latex is going to burst, he’s so big. But it manages to fit. I look at the discarded wrapper, seeing XXL printed on the packaging.
He eases himself into me, slowly at first, and my pussy lips seem to melt around him. My body takes him in as if it’s what my body is made to do.
I wince as he presses past my virginal wall, but once his cock breaks through, it’s as if all hell has broken loose. He fills me completely, seemingly all at once. I cry out in pleasure and surprise.
“Oh my God, Hunter, this is good.” I moan, my arms wrapping around his neck and my fingers threading through his hair as I pull his mouth to mine, kissing him deeply. Kissing him completely.
“See, I told you.” Hunter smiles and kisses my ear, my neck, my shoulders. Soft and tender. Mine.
He rocks in and out of me, over and over again, lighting me on fire, awakening all the facets of my body that have been asleep for a lifetime.
His cock hits against my deepest part, exploding against my core. It feels good and so very right.
Hunter pins my hands over my head, lacing our fingers. Connected. One. Together.
He moves in me deeper, and deeper still, until there’s no more space for pleasure or pain. Until there’s no more space for anything except an explosion.
Together, we come in ecstasy.
17
We fall asleep on the bearskin rug, her head resting against my chest, my arms cradling her.
When I wake in the early morning hours, I slip from her arms, wanting to take her again, but not wanting to wake her. She looks so peaceful.
Instead I move out from under her and lay the blanket we found after rolling around for hours, exploring one another, over her body. With quiet steps, I walk to the bathroom to shower.
Before I open the door to the bathroom, though, I hear noise outside. My eyes narrow, and I walk back to the couch to grab my jeans. Pulling them on, I walk to the front door and look out the window in the foyer.
Outside there are men with cameras—only a few paparazzi, but a few too many.
Fuck. I don’t want these people here, but I know it’s mostly my doing. I’ve never forced the press away when they came knocking on my door. Hell, I’ve never held back when it comes to publicity, always figuring that the more graphic the story, the more likely my father will be disinterested in me inheriting the throne.
Sure, some people might psychoanalyze that as self-sabotage; I call it motherfucking sense.
Except it doesn’t seem to be working that way, does it? My father found me a woman precisely because of my antics. The law he enacted requiring me to have a bride would have never been invoked if I’d toed the line like a decent prince.
But I never had a princess to fight for.
Now I do.
I open the door, wondering where my security detail is, but then I remember that yesterday I told the commander to get scarce. The crew is probably all down at the bunker sleeping. It’s still early—only five in the morning—and I bet they’re all passed out. Hell, after they realized that Violet and I were keeping indoors, they probably decided to keep to themselves, also.
“Prince Hunter,” yells a man with a camera. “Tell us, is the sex with the princess better than the girls you usually bring up here?”
A low rumble is already growing in my belly, and I’m ready to chew these fuckers out. This question is not helping his damn case.
“Is princess pussy better?” another cameraman jests.
But I don’t think it’s fucking funny. I don’t want anyone to talk about my woman this way.
“You better hand over the memory cards in those cameras, now,” I demand, not planning on backing down.
“Oh, Prince Hunter, you know you like us out here, ” the first cameraman says. “The press is always working in your favor. Is that going to change now that you have yourself a wife?”
“You practically begged us to come out here and write a story on you a month ago,” another says. “You need to warn us if you’re changing your ways. If you’re pussy-whipped.”
“Things are different now.”
“Different how?” The first cameraman eggs me on. “Is Violet an adventurous lover?” The two cameramen laugh conspiratorially, and that puts me over the motherfucking edge.
I raise a fist. Storming towards them, I yell, “I’m not playing games! You’d better back the fuck up, get off my property, and leave my woman alone.” The cameras flash, not missing a single moment of my rage.
Behind me I hear Violet. “Hunter, don’t!” she calls out as my fist collides with this asshole’s jaw.
I push a cameraman into the snow; I’ve drawn blood.
I turn back to see Violet; she’s covered her mouth in shock. She’s wrapped in a blanket, and I know every inch of her skin is bare. I get hard the moment I lay eyes on her, and I hope it’s that way for the rest of my life.
But the timing is all wrong for her to walk outside undressed.
She looks scared; her eyes are full of fear.
I know I put that fear inside her.
“It’s okay. Go back inside, Violet,” I shout. The last thing I want is one of these cameramen to get pictures of my woman. Naked. Before our wedding night. I know that Violet values integrity, and finding a virginal Princess was part of the reason my father was able to offer such a big dowry for her.
She backs away, clearly upset, and shuts the door. Good.
“Did you get that?” the man with the bloodied job asks the other cameraman.
“Ah fuck,” he says, staring at his camera, which is apparently malfunctioning.
I take that to mean they didn’t get the pictures. “I’m going to sue you if you let anything leak. Violet is untouchable; do you understand?”
I pull the man out of the snow and push him toward his buddy. “You need to ge
t the fuck off this royal property.”
They back away; I watch them leave. When they’ve run off the property, I head back inside, feeling like I fucked things up. Photographs of her wearing nothing should never be taken. I let that happen. I wasn’t thinking about her reputation when I stripped her to nothing last night.
I hate that I scared Violet, but what I hate even more is my disruptive past.
I’m not good enough for her. I may be the most sought-after Royal Prince in the world, but I’m still not good enough for Violet.
“Hunter,” Violet says, running up to me as I lock the door behind me.
She watches as I reach for the radio and call the security detail to fill them in on what happened. I’m pissed that they weren’t keeping a better eye on things.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “I woke up and heard you and those men screaming. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say shaking my head. “They’re gone, Violet. But you should be gone, too. You don’t deserve this bullshit. And being with me, it’s always going to be in your face. People are going to judge you, question you, and talk shit about you. This isn’t like some royal wedding from the 1800s. Nowadays, this shit will be on everyone’s social media feeds in minutes. Fucking Snapchats and Instagram posts about how you shacked up with the world’s biggest asshole before your wedding. You’ll become a joke. Tabloids like to talk about how big my cock is, and how many women I’ve brought to this cabin. You can’t be mixed up in that. You deserve more. Better than me.”
Violet blinks back tears as she clasps the blanket around her body. Her dark hair falls over her bare shoulders. She looks like a Greek goddess; she looks divine.
It affirms everything I said to her.
“Just a joke?” she asks. “I’m a joke to you? Because I thought this thing between us … was something real. But now what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m no good for you.”
“Do you mean that, Hunter? Last night we said maybe we were so bad for one another that we were good.”
“Last night I was talking with my cock.”
“Hunter,” she gasps.
And I know my words are harsh. But how else am I going to get her to understand that I’m no good for her? I’ll drive that point home. Like I said, self-sabotage has been my tactic before. It can be my tactic again. It’s only because I want what is best for her.
And I know I’m not it.
“I’m taking a shower,” I tell her, unable to meet her eyes. “Then we should head back to the castle.” I turned, knowing that if I look at her again, look at her angelic face and her pristine body, I won’t be able to keep this resolve.
And I need to.
For her.
“But we’re still getting married, right?” she whispers.
“No, Violet. I can’t marry you. You deserve something better than what I can offer.”
I walk to the bathroom, lock the door. Step in the shower, and turn on the ice-cold water.
I don’t deserve anything warm.
Not when I’ve been so cold.
18
Hunter slams the bathroom door; I hear the water running, hear the curtain close.
I feel wrecked, caught off guard and exposed. I’m literally standing naked in a stranger’s house.
And how did he become a stranger? I fell asleep last night in his arms, after giving my entire self to him.
I imagined him as my husband.
My partner.
More than a lover or a one-night stand.
I pictured him as my forever. And yes, there is so much of me that still breaks over the fact that I can’t be in Elexia. That’s my first choice. That’s what I want, my heart’s desire. But I have to give up that childhood dream. I will never be Queen of Elexia.
But right now, it seems like I won’t even be Princess of Cressia.
Or Princess of anything.
I gave him my virginity; I offered it.
And I don’t regret last night … but my heart breaks over today.
My cheeks are streaked with tears and I start gasping for breath, the reality of whatever took place washing over me.
I’m such a fool.
I wrap the blanket tighter around my body, desperate to hear a familiar voice.
I’ve never felt so alone in my life. I feel so stupid to have woken up this morning imagining showering with Hunter, imagining our bodies under that warm water, washing away the pleasure from last. How could I go from that fantasy to this reality so quickly?
What happened in the space of a night to make Hunter no longer want me? To push me away?
Was the sex I offered him not good enough? Was my body not what he wanted? Was I too inexperienced for a man like him?
Because those were a lot of my fears, and it seems like maybe they have come to fruition. I’m not enough of a woman for him. Because if I were, I wouldn’t be standing here alone, crying.
I would be with him—kissing him, stroking him, learning how to love him.
In my luggage, I fumble for my phone. Turning it on, I pray for a signal and wait with bated breath until one appears.
Thank you—Mountain Gods, whoever is looking down on me at this moment—because I need to talk to my sisters like I’ve never needed anything before.
I press send on Iris’s number, trying to calculate what time it is there, but not caring if the ringing wakes her. I need to hear a familiar voice, because all I hear is that running water, on the other side of the solid door separating Hunter from me.
He told me he was going to take me home. Is that true? Because if it is, I feel like a double failure. Not only am I not enough for Hunter, but I’ve ruined things for my father. For my country.
I’m ashamed.
“Hello?” Iris’s voice fills my ears.
“Iris?” I gasp. My voice cracks under the weight of this call, embarrassment floods me. “Everything is ruined. Everything is over. He doesn’t want me. I’m not enough.”
“Oh my God, honey, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. I know I always seem like I’ve got everything put together, but right now everything is falling apart.”
“Let me put you on speakerphone. Dahlia is here. It’s okay, honey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, though. Hunter doesn’t want me. “
“What happened?” Dahlia asks. “I know when you spoke with Iris yesterday, you were nervous. Did things not go how you imagined?” My little sister’s voice is soft on the phone. So innocent and pure. And this ruined woman shouldn’t even be talking to her.
Last night I gave everything to Hunter. And for what?
For him to throw it on the floor. To watch it crash and burn.
“We slept together, which was unexpected but felt right. I thought everything was going perfectly. But then this morning photographers were here trying to take pictures of us together, saying all kinds of lewd remarks about us.
“I wasn’t surprised. I mean, I know Hunter has a complicated past—and I’m not judging him for that. I’m really not. More than anything, I’m impressed with his ability to be effortless. Like, he’s not trying to be anything or prove anything, and that’s why we connected on some level.
“But then this morning after the cameras left, he came back inside and completely blindsided me. He wants to call off the wedding. Just like Father feared.”
“And you have no idea why?”
“He says I deserve more than him.”
“Do you think he means it?”
“I don’t know. This is all unexpected. And I’m frustrated at myself, because coming into this I said this was not about love, this marriage was about alliances. What was best for my country and his country. Nothing more and nothing less. It was a business deal. I was the transaction. But then in the space of two days I fell for him. I fell for him hard.” I’m sobbing now, into the phone.
“You fell in love in two days?” Dahlia asks.
“If you’d ask
ed me last night, yes. I would have said my heart was his for the taking. But this isn’t love, the way I feel right now? Right now I feel alone.” I cry, choking on my tears.
“Oh, honey, we’ll talk to Father,” Iris says. “We’ll see if we can get you to come home.”
“Iris, it’s much more complicated than that. And I don’t even know if your husband will marry you if I’m not married first. And no one is going to want me now that I’m not a virgin.”
“Calm down, take a deep breath,” Dahlia says. “You’re not ruining anything. There’s nothing to ruin. You are still a princess. You can hold your head high, and wipe away those tears, and remember you’re worth more than one Prince’s estimation.”
“Why are you so good at giving advice?” I sniffle, wiping my eyes. “You’re supposed to be the baby sister here, not the one with advice on love.”
“Dalia has always been the one who believed in true love. I’ve always been the rebellious one. And you, Violet, have always been the responsible one. But right now, let us take care of you. We’ll talk to father and help sort all this out.”
“I love you both so much,” I tell them. “I’m lucky to have sisters like you.”
“Wipe your eyes, wash your hair, and smile,” Dahlia says. “Because right now you’re still the Princess of Elexia. You love this country so much, and this country was built on bright eyes and big smiles, open hearts and generous people. Remember that. If Hunter decided to have a change of heart, that’s his doing. Not yours. And it does not reflect your worth.”
Iris adds, “And you’ve still done something 99 percent of all women in the world would die to have had a chance at doing.”
I hear Iris’s smile across the ocean, and I take the bait. “And what’s that, sister?”
“You slept with Prince Hunter. So tell me, is his cock everything they say it is?”
I shake my head, a small smile escaping my mouth—and that’s a victory. “I’m hanging up now.”
“I love you,” Iris says.
“I love you more,” Dahlia adds.
“And I love you two the most.”