Crown of Thornes : a modern day royal romance

by Delaney Foster

  I spun around to face him. His eyes were storming, wild and furious, but I stood my ground. “I need to get my brownies.”

  He stalked toward me, closing the space between us within seconds like the force of nature he was. The sharp staccato of his expensive shoes echoed off the polished floor and matched the drumming of my pulse. “Do you have to defy me every single fucking time I ask for something?”

  For a man who was used to everyone doing his bidding, a woman like me, who chose to use her own brain instead of relying on his, was probably a culture shock.

  “I’m not defying you. I just need to get my brownies before they set the kitchen on fire.”

  Not that they actually would, but I felt like being dramatic. Or maybe I was stalling. I needed answers like I needed water or air, but the thought of facing the king, of what he might say, terrified me.

  What if Sutton was right? What if everything I thought I knew about my dad was a lie?

  I kept walking, not waiting for his permission. I needed a chapter break, some kind of bridge between now and what was to come. It felt like I was standing in front of a buffet—stomach growling, steam rising off hot, fresh food, everything I wanted at my fingertips—but knowing once my plate was full that there was no way I could handle it all.

  Sutton stayed a step behind me and eerily silent as he followed me down the hall. His heavy footsteps were my only indication that he was still there. The wide hallway narrowed. The tall ceiling fell. The floor opened its mouth and threatened to swallow me whole. I was minutes away from the closure I fought so hard for and all I wanted to do was disappear. Good God how far was the freaking kitchen?

  When we finally reached the doorway, I poked a finger at his chest, ignoring how good it felt to touch him even if it was just a fingertip. “Wait here.”

  He looked down at me, his gaze razor sharp.

  I heaved a sigh and swallowed every ounce of my pride and then some. “Please.”

  He captured my chin between his fingertips, forcing my eyes to meet his. A smile danced across his lips but quickly disappeared. “I like this look on you.”

  I hated the way I melted into his touch.

  “What look?”

  His eyes dipped to my mouth as he considered his answer. He took a step forward and wet his lips. “The one where you’re begging.”

  Every fiber in my being quivered at the memory of his mouth on mine, of his hard length pressed against my soft center. Someone could walk out of the kitchen any second now and find us here like this. I could almost feel their eyes on my back and hear their furtive whispers.

  No one knew about me and Keaton. Not that I kept it a secret, there just wasn’t anyone to tell. I liked being invisible. It made the thought of leaving a little more bearable. Then Sutton walked in, and he might as well have painted a scarlet letter on my forehead. Maybe not an “A” but definitely a “W” or an “S”. It was difficult to fly under the radar when everyone thought you were banging the prince.

  Either way, I was no longer invisible. They knew my name, my full name, and all the secrets that came attached to it. And soon, I would know them too.

  I backed away from his grip, completely forgetting that my finger was still on his chest. “Can you just wait here for two minutes?”

  He gestured his hand toward the door, waving me inside with an arrogant smirk. If assaulting royalty weren’t a crime, I would have taken my shoe off and thrown it at him.

  Mrs. Fletcher walked around one corner of the kitchen at the same time the alarm went off on my watch. Madeline was nowhere to be found, but a young girl I had never seen before stood at the island peeling potatoes while another one rinsed lettuce at the sink.

  “Just in time,” I said as I pulled the brownies out of the oven and set them on a cast iron trivet.

  Mrs. Fletcher wiped her hands on the front of her apron and smiled. “Ah, Katie dear. I was coming in here to check on them. I should’ve known you wouldn’t forget.”

  The scent of warm, melted chocolate filled the air and made my stomach growl. The girl at the sink sang softly to herself while she rinsed the lettuce. It reminded me of the way Madeline always hummed, and that made me smile. Madeline refused to let me be invisible, like the kid who kept following you to your lunch table and acting like you’d known each other your whole lives until you wake up one day and realize that kid was actually your best friend. I adored the snot out of her for that.

  “Pretty sure burning brownies is a carnal sin fully recognized by the church,” I replied with a wink.

  She chuckled as two guys walked in from the back entrance to the kitchen, laughing and carrying on about some poor dude getting stuck with stable duty. Which was just a fancy term the royals had for cleaning up horse poop all day. The first girl looked up from her potato peeler and grinned at the guy with short brown hair and dimples. He smiled back and a pink blush crept up her neck all the way to her cheeks.

  I loved watching people flirt. I guessed it was the same hopeless romantic in me that loved reading classic romance novels or watching chick flicks while pigging out on Doritos and cheese dip. While I fully believed other people deserved a happily ever after, I was fine with plain old happy.

  In the blink of an eye, the background chatter stopped, and I watched as all of the staff looked behind me with a dutiful bow of their heads. Even without all the pleasantries, I would have known Sutton was here by the way the room suddenly filled with masculinity and sexual tension. I swallowed a scream then took a deep breath to compose myself as I turned around.

  “Your Highness,” I said with the most modest curtsey I could muster.

  Maybe he would get the hint and pretend like he wasn’t here for me.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw as his eyes narrowed in on me. “Are you done here?”

  Apparently, he wasn’t big on pretending… or taking hints.

  I nodded my head toward the pan of brownies on the countertop by the oven. “Obviously.” We stared at each other like two people going for a prize, relentless and daring. His chest heaved and his nostrils flared, and I could almost hear his harsh breath in my ear. Something raw and primal ripped through the air. I hoped that Sutton had enough sense not to follow it across the room and make me forget there were other people here. Then I cursed the tiny part of me that wished he would.

  I broke our connection before he had the chance, looking over my shoulder at Mrs. Fletcher. “I’ll be back to cut them once they’ve cooled.”

  She gave a polite nod then walked over to the island and grabbed a potato. Everyone else’s eyes bounced from me to the prince and back to me again as I headed for the door. The second I was close enough, Sutton placed his hand possessively at the small of my back and led me out of the kitchen.

  “Was that completely necessary? I asked you for one thing. One.” I moved away from him and pointed to the wall outside the kitchen doorway. “Wait there. That’s all I wanted.”

  “I heard voices and got curious. Why? Did I interrupt something?”

  He heard the guys. Of course. In Sutton’s vocabulary, “curious” and “jealous” were obviously the same thing.

  “I was getting my brownies. Geez Louise, you’re ridiculous,” I said as I hurried in the direction of the East Wing. The hallway seemed so much shorter when I was running from Sutton.

  His footsteps fell close behind me. Then I heard his rich voice in my ear. “Mrs. Fletcher could have gotten them.”

  I stopped in front of the library then turned to face him. My stomach rolled with nervous energy. He was one wrong word away from me going inside and forgetting about our visit with the king. At least that was the excuse I fed myself. “I didn’t want Mrs. Fletcher to get them. I don’t have servants. People don’t go around waiting on me hand and foot.” I sucked in a deep breath and met his eyes. “I’m not you.”

  Thank God.

  My eyes fell to the floor as sadness rippled through me. “But I’m not them either. I’m lost somewhere in between
. The last thing I need is everyone looking at me as just another girl you screwed.” Even Chelsea had those thoughts. She told me so when we had lunch, and that was without ever seeing us together.

  “You fucked him. Oh my God. You fucked the prince.”

  Sutton backed me against the wall of the Great Hall, stopping centimeters in front of me. “When did letting the king fuck you become such a disgrace?”

  My gaze snapped to his, catching his hard, blue-green eyes. “What did you just say?”

  He pinched his eyes closed and shook his head. “Future king.” He tugged his tie loose and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt, drawing my eyes to his tanned skin like a magnet. My entire body reacted—pulse quickening, nipples hardening, breath rushed and ragged. “Semantics. And I think you and I both know you aren’t just another girl.”

  I forced myself to look away from him, at anything but the sexy way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “Our families are enemies, and I’m pretty sure the whole world knows how that story ends. Throw in the fact that I’m leaving in a few months and that your name is most likely stamped on some spoiled princess’s vagina… and just another girl is all I can be.”

  He leaned in, resting his hand on the wall above my head and ran the tip of his nose along the side of mine. Electricity thrummed, charging the air between us. Whatever this was. Whatever we tried so hard to pretend it wasn’t. There was no timer, no red wire or green one to cut, no turning it off. There were only moments just like this one, each one of them building up to that one final explosion that would seal our fate.

  “I’m no Romeo.” His free hand trailed down my side. “You aren’t going anywhere, little sheep.” He lowered his hand, cupping me between my thighs. “And it’s my name. I’ll stamp it wherever the fuck I want.” My lips parted on a gasp, and he quirked his head to the side. A wicked grin played on his lips. “You like me touching you like this, don’t you?”

  Too much. I liked it way too much. I didn’t answer because he wasn’t asking. He was observing. His hand pressed harder against my sensitive flesh, the heat burning through the delicate linen fabric of my pants. Sutton brought his other hand down to the hem of my loose black tank top then pulled it over my head. The cool air hitting my bare skin made me shudder.

  I held my palms to his chest, stopping but not really stopping him from going further. This was insane. The stakes were too high. We could be caught. Anyone could walk by, and a twisted part of me—a seriously dark and twisted part—liked taking that risk. My heart hammered at the rush.

  His bright eyes grew dark with a hungry kind of ownership. I felt his gaze everywhere, burning, searing me, all the way to the core. “Fuck, I need to touch you. No clothes. No barriers. All you.” My skin tingled at his words. He brought his mouth to my neck, running his nose along the side of my throat then bringing his lips to my ear. “Say yes.” His plea was a whispered growl, and my body responded by arching into him.

  The desire to say yes was so strong I thought I might split open. But my breath was caught in my chest, so I just shook my head.

  His breath was hot on my neck when he spoke. “What are you afraid of, little sheep? Is it me?” He lifted his head, and his eyes found mine and I saw him. All the arrogance, all the entitlement faded away as the mask fell from his face and floated to the ground. “Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you?”

  “No. I know you’re going to hurt me.” My blood ran hot and fast as heat crawled up my neck. Need hummed in my chest. Fire danced over my skin, tiny flames licking and burning too fast for me to grab them and put them out. “I’m only afraid I’ll like it.”

  I felt his fingers curl and flex against the wall beside my head as if he were trying to control himself. “I want to know if you’re wet. I need to know if my touch makes you wetter.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Fuck. Just say yes. Please, Katie. Just say the goddamn word.”

  He sounded tortured, drowning in agony, and he looked at me like I could save his life with three simple letters.

  I tried wading through the fog of lust to find the voice of reason, but the pull was too strong. Like a cord woven between us by witchcraft or ancient prophecy. I couldn’t fight it even if I wanted to.

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  Sutton moved his hand from between my legs to the waistband of my pants. His fingertips gently dipped inside, grazing the skin just below my belly button. His other hand cupped my breast. A feral growl rumbled deep in his throat as he pulled one side of my bra down and exposed my hardened nipple then gave it a hard, unexpected twist. The pain singed through me, and I whimpered.

  More.

  “What if someone comes?” I protested. It was weak, and there was no way on earth my body wanted him to stop. If he wanted to pin me to the wall and make me scream loud enough for the world to hear, I would have let him.

  He lowered his mouth to my breast, looking up at me through lashes thicker than anyone with a penis should be allowed. A smile tugged at his lips. “That’s kind of the point.”

  Before I could open my mouth to argue that he missed my meaning entirely, his mouth was on me, his tongue tracing tiny circles around my nipple.

  His other hand slid lower, past the elastic band of my panties and along my soaking wet slit. His teeth nipped at my peak as he swallowed a groan. My hands clenched the fabric of his shirt at the sharp bite of pain. As soon as it was gone, I wanted it again.

  “Jesus, Katie. Fuck.” He rubbed his fingers along my seam. Up. Down. Spreading my arousal all over me, letting it soak his fingertips. I pushed against him, my entire body consumed with the throbbing, aching need that was… him. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even want to. I only wanted to feel.

  His tongue lapped over the nipple he just bit, and another moan escaped my lips. I wanted him inside me. I needed him everywhere. Sutton was an addiction.

  He spread me open, letting his fingertips tease my entrance. I tightened my fists in his shirt and rocked against his hand, begging him to cross the line, to finally rip through the invisible boundary that our fathers had set.

  “No one else gets to touch you like this.” He brushed his thumb against my clit. “Understand?”

  My breath came out in short, stuttered bursts as I nodded my head once. Any hope I had of coming out of this in one piece died the minute his mouth claimed mine. I never wanted to belong to anyone. I was proud of being my own person, but somehow Sutton gave me the best of both worlds. The dark parts of his soul feasted on moments like this, when my body surrendered to his touch. But part of him also liked when I stood my ground. He wanted me weak but needed me strong because a weak woman could never survive Sutton Thorne.

  “Say it,” he growled.

  “Yes.” My voice was raspy. “I understand.”

  His touch went from reverent to violent in a matter of seconds. He pushed two thick fingers inside of me, and I gasped at the fullness. “One day very soon this will be my cock. Filling you. Fucking you. Owning you.”

  Pulsing.

  Aching.

  Burning from the inside out.

  I bowed my back. “Sutton, please.”

  He plunged his fingers inside me, arrogance and power fueling every thrust. My stomach tightened and flipped and… Oh. God. Harder. Faster. Until I clenched around his fingers. He immediately withdrew his hand, yanking my pants and panties to my ankles and falling to his knees in front of me. He prompted me to lift my foot and step out of the last of my clothes.

  This was it. The awakening. We were really doing this. It was reckless, careless, and crazy—the first turn of a downward spiral into madness. I thought the battle was won in the Piano Room. Little did I know that was only the beginning.

  Sutton inhaled my scent as the tip of his nose ran along my slit. “Fucking heaven.” He gripped my hip, his fingers bruising the flesh, and pulled me to his mouth. “This is the part where I devour you, little sheep.”

  My hands tangled in his hair, while his teeth pulled on my
clit. Passion and pain, a perfect representation of what we were. Everything else was a blur. The black and white marble floor, the gold picture-frame style trim on white walls, my past, his future… none of it existed. There was only me, him, and this. He trailed his tongue over my slit from bottom to top then pushed it inside, thrusting and plunging with relentless urgency. Probing and possessive until it sent me over the edge.

  Something swirled and burned inside of me as an orgasm rocked my body, drawing me to the brink of insanity. Even though all the signs pointed to me already being there. I was naked, except for my bra, in the busiest hallway in the castle… with Sutton’s mouth on my punani. He was right. We were toxic. One of us was fire and the other gasoline. Together we would burn each other alive.

  Twenty

  My entire body vibrated from the aftershock of giving myself to Sutton Thorne. He was chaos and wreckage, a natural disaster with an expert tongue. I thought giving in to him would destroy me, that it would make me feel weak but here I stood ready for him, ready for the world, ready for anything. Walking down that hall and facing King Phillipe was nothing compared to surviving his son. Maybe that was fate’s plan all along.

  His eyes raked over my near-naked body. Suddenly all the secrets between us became a living, breathing thing. His remained locked away behind a tailored suit and calculated restraint while mine were open and exposed, offered up like a sacrifice.

  I bent down to collect my pants, but he snatched my panties before I got to them.

  “I’ll keep these,” he said as he stood.

  I arched a brow, adjusting my boob back into my bra, then slipped into my pants. “For your trophy room?”

  He handed me my tank top. “For when I stroke my cock and remember having to decide between tasting your pussy and watching your face when you come.”

  Wetness pooled between my thighs at his filthy words.

  A smile quirked his lips. “Ready again so soon?”

  Good grief, did he have a moisture radar on my vagina?

  He worked the buttons on his shirt. “God, I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of you.”