Plaything at the Royal Wedding: An MFMM Royal Romance

by Lana Hartley

  And then there’s Sam—the final part of the three-piece puzzle that forms my life with these men.

  Sam, who looked for me that whole night, until he finally found me, who showed genuine concern. And continued to show how he cares—even while he was fucking me—asking me if he could get me water, chocolate, or even a massage as he rubbed my shaking legs.

  He knows how to treat a woman in his care, even when he’s balls-deep inside of her. He has proven to be a gentleman and a gentle man, in the truest sense.

  Individually, of course, I don't think they could fully satisfy me. I need each one for what they can provide.

  If I just had to deal with Sam, for example, I think I would go not-so-quietly nuts. I couldn’t deal with someone who was so emotional all the time.

  Or if it was just Adam, I would feel emotionally lost, as if I were just a trophy for him to collect, a toy on the mantle, a shiny new object to polish when he wants to show off to his friends, but to be ignored otherwise.

  Certainly, too, I couldn’t deal with just Charlie all the time—there’s no need to constantly make me calm, because, sometimes, I just want to fuck.

  I stop myself in my tracks, trying to derail my chain of thought. Am I really thinking like this? I ask myself. What’s wrong with me?

  This isn’t how I was raised. Like every other “good girl,” I was raised to believe that love is only between a man and a woman in perfect monogamy, never to be broken until one dies.

  Then again, I think to myself, I was also raised to save myself for marriage. Look how well that turned out.

  I close my eyes again and feel myself in all my nakedness, in awe at how immobile I’ve become with all these thoughts of these three men, and impressed with the memories we’ve made until last night.

  I wonder if I’ll ever reach a point where I could only love—or fuck—just one man, especially after I’ve just fucked three at the same time.

  I definitely don’t love them, I think to myself, not yet.

  I love different things about them, sure, but I don’t love them individually. Right now, they’re just gorgeous cocks attached to gorgeous men, who took turns bringing me to pure ecstasy.

  I love the fact that they were able to do that—how expertly they penetrated me, how much fun they had in my body, how much they enjoyed taking me, and how much I, in turn, enjoyed having them.

  So, I love their cocks. That much is certain.

  I love different things about them that much, too, is certain. But I don’t love them individually…not yet.

  I don’t think I need to love them individually. Do I really need to only enjoy them one at a time? I think to myself. I sigh as I drift off to sleep, and determine that yes, as a matter of fact, it’s quite alright to enjoy them all at the same time.

  In fact, I realize, I need to enjoy them all at the same time.

  Because it’s only when they’re together, that they can form the perfect man for me.

  Chapter 10

  Lacey

  I’m sitting in Charlie’s office, with Sam and Adam sitting nearby. The only coffee on offer is remarkably poor, but I wrap my hands around the cup and take another sip anyway. After a conversation like this, I’m going to need my strength.

  Charlie paces back and forth, talking with his hands. I kind of like his office. What I can see of it, which isn’t much.

  Every available space—the desk, every cabinet and shelf—is covered by rolls and leaves of paper. All are covered in a multitude of sketches. He has three headless dummies wearing designs, each at a different stage of construction.

  Charlie pauses in front of me, looking deeply into my eyes. I grin over the lid of my coffee cup.

  “Denham is such a nasty guy. Ridiculously cheap. He only put on this whole benefit to steal the money.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I’m shocked.

  Charlie nods.

  “Seriously. We know all about it. He was planning out the new marketing strategies and bitching about how much money it cost. Someone in finance came up with the idea of a charity benefit—if we throw a ball where people donate, the company can skim a good five to fifteen percent of it for their running costs.”

  I look at both Adam and Sam, sitting at either side of me.

  “I was at the meeting. So was Sam.” Adam looks at me very seriously.

  “It wasn’t long after that he realized he could easily lift the whole lot.” Sam speaks up. “I overheard him one day on the way past his office. It was late; I’m pretty sure no one was here except us.”

  “He was doing all these sums on a calculator, muttering to himself,” Sam kept going. “He started laughing and then took off down the hall to the john. When he was out of sight, I ducked in and saw what he was writing.”

  “It was a plan to steal the lot and push the blame towards the other departments.” Adam frowns, looking dark. “He didn’t work it to be specific to any one person, but the entire marketing department would have been under scrutiny.”

  “He’s got the cash here locked up. He will officially transfer its control to marketing in a few days, maybe a week.” Adam shakes his head. “He hasn’t been very clear yet. But by then, it will be gone. It will look like one of them took it, as they’re the only staff that has access currently.”

  “And, as far as they know, he hasn’t even looked at it,” I whisper softly.

  Charlie nods, stepping forward to grab my hands. He squeezes them gently.

  “He was always planning to pick a model to help him, maybe a few. I guess he figured he couldn’t cover all the angles with more than one. Has he approached you?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve stayed away from him. Do you think he will?”

  The boys all nod.

  “He definitely will.” Sam nods emphatically. “I think it’s pretty obvious he’s picked you as his favorite. Why do you think your bra popped open, and no one else’s?”

  My eyes go big and wide. I actually feel a little sick.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I’m shocked. And angry. Getting angrier by the second.

  I look around at all the boys. They just nod back, with grim faces.

  Charlie approaches one of his dummies, wearing a lacy half-cup bra in bright blue on her plastic tits. He picks up a tiny pair of sewing scissors and makes a tiny cut right in between the cups.

  “For Miss Plastic here, that tiny cut isn’t a problem. She’s never going to jiggle. But for a real lady, especially one as well-endowed as you, that tiny cut will tear bit by bit with every step you take. It’s only a matter of time before it busts. And boom—titties everywhere.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I whisper, putting down the tragic coffee and putting my hands on my cheeks. I feel hot and itchy inside my skin. This is beyond creepy.

  “He watched you come in for the show, didn’t he?” Adam asks.

  I nod my head.

  “That explains everything. He made costume changes right before you guys got dressed,” Adam says. “Laid out new sets for everyone’s first trot down the runway. Tracey tried to stop him, it wasn’t part of her choreography, but he insisted.”

  “This sucks.” I’m feeling pretty low now. “What are we going to do?”

  “Well…” Adam gives me a cheeky grin. “We have an idea.”

  “Just a bit of one.” Sam doesn’t seem convinced.

  Charlie just shakes his head, adjusting Miss Plastic’s bra again.

  “We can take the money right out from under him!” Adam grabs my hand, smiling. “We can do exactly what he planned! I know where it is. Sam has access; he’s head of marketing. When Denham goes looking for it,” he laughs, sounding very self-satisfied, “it won’t be there.”

  “So…then you give it to charity?”

  “Well…” Charlie mutters, still looking at the dummy.

  Sam clears his throat.

  “We can’t just give it back,” Adam sounds particularly insulted. “Too much suspicion. Too much attention. Besides, I’m
not doing all of this to give it to someone else!”

  I turn my eyes up to him. He stares at me, and I stare right back. I’m not impressed. I’m pretty fucking pissed, actually.

  After a few seconds, Adam looks away uncomfortably and clears his throat. “Don’t look at me like that, Lacey. It’s not like I’m murdering puppies.”

  “Don’t bullshit me! If you want to take the money for yourself, you’re just as bad as Denham is!”

  “Hey, hold up! Did I sabotage your bra so that the whole place got to see your tits fly—”

  “You know what I mean.” I refuse to raise my voice, staring him down again.

  Sam gets up and grips my shoulders lightly. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Plus, we pin the whole thing on him, and he gets what’s coming to him, especially for what he did to you.”

  “Yeah.” Charlie comes over and kneels down in front of me. His eyes are deep, innocent, pleading. “We’re doing this for you.”

  “Look.” I try hard not to sigh. “I get he’s not a nice guy. I don’t even know him. Sure, he was creepy as fuck to me. Maybe he hasn’t gotten any in years, I don’t know. That’s bound to piss you off. I’ll take your word for it. It still doesn’t convince me that us stealing the money from him is a good idea.”

  Charlie puts a hand on my knee. “We can’t just give the cash back. You’re a smart lady. You know that. Sam’s already going to have to play it cool as soon as marketing comes under fire. But of course, we aren’t just going to fuck off with it. We’re going to do small donations to the community. Helping disabled kids get into sports. That kind of thing.”

  Sam nods eagerly. “There are so many struggling young models, just like you. They’re out there right now, doing horrible things to support themselves. Imagine if we could start a program to help them. We could do so much good.”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Lacey.” Adam turns to me, looking soft and compassionate now. He reaches out and takes a hand from my lap. Charlie still holds the other.

  “We can’t let Denham steal the money. You get that, right?”

  “Of course, I do. It’s reprehensible.”

  “So, if we don’t take it, what’s your plan, exactly?”

  “I don’t know. Call the authorities?”

  Adam sighs. “Take it from me as a finance expert. Then no one gets the money. It will get strung up, frozen, then it’ll slowly bleed away in admin fees while everyone goes to court to argue about who stole it. It will all be for nothing.”

  I feel the boys’ warm touches on my body. I look into their faces in turn.

  I can’t believe they would do anything malicious. I want to believe I can see them as they truly are.

  I take a deep breath. “I’m not convinced. But I agree, something must be done. We can’t let Denham get the money, and we can’t call the cops.”

  “Since Denham set it up for marketing to take the blow, you would make my life very difficult, if you do that.”

  I swivel my chair around and touch Sam lightly on the cheek.

  “I don’t want that,” I whisper softly.

  Adam stands up behind me, rubbing my shoulders. Charlie takes my hand again, and Sam pulls my other hand into his lap, cradling it with both of his.

  “How do I choose between you?” It slips out, a murmur of emotion, something I thought so strongly, it became words.

  “You don’t have to,” Charlie says.

  Sam shakes his head, grinning now. “No. Please don’t.”

  Adam grins over my shoulder, whispering in my ear, tickling my neck.

  “We’ve decided to share you. As gentlemen. Anything you want, sweetheart, we will give you. You never have to worry about us for a second—we’re in this for you.”

  I can’t help it. My smile lights my face, stretching my cheeks wide. They’re so beautiful, so gorgeous. And they want to make me happy so badly, they will work together to make it happen.

  I look around them again, letting myself get drawn into their eyes, one by one.

  “Okay. The dating and fucking three of you, I’m totally down with.” A naughty giggle bubbles up out of my throat as I say the words. I feel so naughty, I want to cover my mouth. “But I’m not convinced with your other plan yet. I’ll need to think about it.”

  “Okay,” says Sam.

  “Sure,” Adam agrees.

  “No problem at all.” Charlie kisses my hand, gazing up at me with adoration.

  I have to say, I’ve never felt so loved—or so lucky.

  Chapter 11

  Lacey

  I’m on the way to the elevator, thinking about the plan. No matter which way you look at it, it’s a pretty fucked up situation.

  I want to keep seeing them—all of them—but this big cash grab thing has me uneasy. I want to walk away from the whole thing.

  But I can’t walk away from my boys.

  I need an incentive. Something to get me in the game.

  I’m almost at the lifts when I hear a high, nasal voice.

  Oh, fuck. He found me.

  “Hi! Hi! No, don’t run away, hey!”

  I slow down, swallow hard, and try to smile as I turn around.

  “Hello, Mr. Denham. How are you?”

  “Great, you’re here. Come on into my office. I want to show you something.”

  “Oh, I really don’t know. I’ve got somewhere to be—”

  He grabs my hand and starts towing me along. What is it with this guy and personal space?

  “It won’t take long. Come and see.”

  He drags me into a massive corner office, beautifully lit with wall to wall windows. It’s just slightly tinted, so the bright warmth of the sun comes in but doesn’t burn your eyes.

  There’s a massive mahogany desk, several chairs, and a huge dark grey sofa. The walls that aren’t covered in windows are absolutely plastered with posters of models in lingerie.

  They pout at me from the walls, some with hands on hips, breasts jutting out, covered in stretchy lace. Some are pulling down the straps seductively. Others wink while running a finger over the edge of their panties.

  Denham points at the posters.

  “As you can see, they are all signed. Personally. I make a point of befriending the very best girls in the industry. It’s important for business. You are the best, Lacey, the very best I’ve ever seen.” He licks his lips, and shivers run up and down my spine. “You and I should stick together.”

  “So…is this what you wanted to show me? Your posters?”

  He scuttles past me to the door, looking furtively from side to side before shutting it.

  “Come in, come in.” He gestures to a gaudy, oversized chair. “Sit down.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Okay, look.” He sits down behind the desk. I walk over so I can hear him as I look out the window. It’s a really good view.

  “Here’s the thing. I’ve been hoping someone like you would come along. I really need the help of a top model. Someone who has the goods, the poise. You have it all, sweetheart, you know that?”

  “Why? I mean, what do you want me to do?”

  He chortles, squinting his eyes under his own mirth. “It’s brilliant, don’t you see? I’m going to rip off the benefit. I’ve got it all sorted. I just need someone to smuggle the money. You’re half-Swiss, right? So you’ll be able to pull it off beautifully! All you have to do is fly it over for me. Then I can bank it there in Switzerland— they don’t ask any questions there.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Sure.” He gets up and walks a slow circle around me. “We’ll strap the cash on you, all over.” He pats my side then runs his hands up and down my arms, leering at my legs and breasts. I turn away, but he grabs my opposite shoulder. “It’s perfect! Don’t you see? You have the body to make it work, the poise to play it off, and no one will question you because of your ethnic origins!”

  “And what about the charity?” My tone is hard as I stare him down. />
  I cross my arms and stand back from his grabby hands. He’s making me feel sticky just by looking at me.

  “Oh, who gives a fuck about them?” He waves a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing you need to worry about. We’ll meet up later, just the two of us, and have a blast!” He steps towards me, and I take a step back.

  “I’ll buy you anything you want.” His eyes are bright, and he obviously has no grasp of body language. He keeps coming even as I back off.

  As I get more tense, I stand up straighter, clenching my fists by my sides. I’m almost on my tiptoes, trying to keep my chest away from his chin.

  “Yeah, look, Denham, I told you, I have somewhere to be—”

  He moves past me to stand against the door.

  “You can’t leave yet! We’re just getting to know each other!”

  “Is that what you call this?”

  He looks confused for a second, but lets it go with the casual air of a man who often lets go of things he doesn’t understand. He looks a bit hurt and confused.

  “Don’t you want to run away with me?”

  I sigh heavily. He’s every which way of creep. I don’t really feel sorry for him, but he probably became this way by being stepped on in the first place.

  “Look, Mr. Denham—”

  “It’s Roger. Call me Roger.”

  “Okay, Roger. This is a big deal, okay? I only just met you, and you’re talking about running away together and stuff. I’m not into commitment.”

  “Oh!” He brightens instantly. “Neither am I! This is going to work out so great.” He actually makes fists and grins like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “I think you might be taking a different understanding from my words than what I intended.”

  “Don’t worry, baby,” he grins. “This is going to be so great. You, me, Switzerland. Hot Swedish babes. You swing both ways, don’t you?” He eyes me greedily.

  A ball starts to form in my throat, and I can’t decide if I’m going to puke or scream.

  I stride firmly up to the door and put my fingers on the handle.

  “I have to go. I have somewhere to be.”

  “But you’ll think about it, won’t you?”