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Royal Engagement

Page 64

by Chance Carter


  That’s when it happened. At that moment he could have made a dozen different choices, better choices, but he acted on impulse. The thought of Arran with Mimi that night was just too much for him to process. He wanted her. Mimi was his.

  After Arran left, he asked the hostess not to do it. He pleaded with her to make sure it was his name left in the bowl for Mimi to choose, not Arran’s. She seemed to take pity on him, appreciating his romantic gesture.

  He led Mimi to a private corner, still unsure what he would do. She waited for him, her timidness arousing him. Fuck, he hungered for her. So he kissed her, tentative at first, but then something clicked. Her mouth felt so right on his, and at that moment, nothing else mattered. Everything about her was perfect, he could have swallowed her whole. Her kisses, the caresses, her taste, his flesh against hers, it was sublime.

  He’d never experienced such intense sensations with any woman before...and it wasn’t just physical. Every part of him surrendered to her that night, body and soul, and it scared the fuck out of him. As their love-making came to an end, he realized what he had done, how wrong he’d been to deceive her. He crossed the line, contaminated their friendship. The emotions were spinning so violently in his head he couldn’t think straight, and he was livid that he acted so impulsively. He couldn’t deal with those monumental feelings.

  Or face her.

  So he bailed, like a coward.

  “No? Is that all you’re going to say? Don’t I deserve an explanation? Does our friendship mean so little to you?”, she stammered, her anger blatantly clear.

  He nodded, of course she did, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to tell her what had been in his heart that night, or how he was feeling now.

  She stared at him in disbelief, waiting for his confession, her confusion and frustration rising as the seconds passed.

  “I can’t do this,” she cried, raising herself from the couch, turning her back on him. He hated that he was the reason for her anguish, that he had caused her so much pain. He wished he could take it all back, heal her heart...and his. He needed her more than he ever needed anything, and he was losing her. He stood up and reached for her hand, drawing her back before she could walk away, desperately pulling her into his kiss.

  She tried to jerk away but he refused her. His kiss was fiery, passionate, unrestrained, as though finally unleashing every feeling he had buried, every emotion he denied. He laced his fingers through her hair and held her close, exploring her with his desperate mouth. She mewed quietly as though surrendering herself, her tension releasing as she leaned into him. She parted her mouth, wordlessly submitting herself to him. God, she tasted sweet, warm and inviting, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted her, all of her. Body, heart, and soul. She owned him.

  “Why?” she whispered, easing out of his kiss, her eyes searching his.

  “Because I’m in love with you,” he confessed, pausing before pressing his mouth on hers again.

  She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him back, slow, sensual and deliberate, like she couldn’t believe he was real and wanted more evidence. He sizzled under her touch, her kiss an electric charge flowing through every circuit in his body, feeding his need, arousing him.

  “Mimi, I want you,” he confessed, his breath hot in her ear, begging for her consent. She hungrily nodded her head, her eyes penetrating his.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  It was all he needed. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door open in his haste. He eased her onto the unmade bed and tore open her blouse, sending the buttons flying. She stared at him wide-eyed, a combination of surprise and desire adorning her beautiful face. He smiled wildly and growled, burying his face in her neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling the sensitive flesh, her delicate scent fueling his exploration. He traced his tongue assertively down her body, tasting every delicious pore, memorizing her curves. He was hard for her.

  Luke slowly undressed her, his fingertips teasing her long limbs as he peeled down her jeans. She shuddered under his touch, her quiet moans encouraging him. She was wearing simple, white cotton panties but they were sexy as hell, promising what was beneath them would take him to church...and worship her he would.

  He knelt between her knees and kissed her mound, gently at first, teasing her clit through the soft material. She squirmed beneath him, raising her hips in invitation. He looked up at her and chuckled, pleased with her feedback. She placed her hands gently on his head, encouraging him to continue. Luke didn’t need to be asked twice and proceeded to bite, suck and lick her through her panties until they were soaking wet, appreciating the taste of her juices through the damp material, a savory-sweet appetizer teasing of the entrée to come. He sensed her pleasure mounting and obeyed her cues, roughly tearing her panties away so he could plunge his long fingers inside of her. He continued to devour her pussy, slipping his fingers in and out of her soaking wet hole, her body tensing under his touch, moaning her approval. He needed to make her cum, to offer her pleasure far greater than the pain he had caused. He needed her to know what was in his heart, that she was his, now and always. She always had been.

  Mimi came quickly, releasing a deep, sexy moan, bucking and grinding into his face as she climaxed, coating his tongue with her sexy spice. She held nothing back from him, as pleasure rushed through her body, rewarding him with her fieriness, validating him. Luke hungrily lapped at her pussy, desperate to prolong her pleasure, until her climax released its sensuous hold on her, and she calmed beneath him.

  She took a moment to catch her breath, gently combing her fingers through his hair while he rested his head on her stomach. Normally he shied away from such intimacies, but with her, the tender moment felt right.

  “Can I kiss you?” she breathed, raising his head with her hands. He looked up, over the landscape of her beautiful curves, and smiled.

  “Hell ya,” he gushed, raising himself over her. He eagerly kissed her, his cock anxiously pressing against her through his slacks.

  “Mmm, I do taste good,” she teased, her tongue exploring his mouth.

  “Ya, you do,” he agreed between kisses.

  “Take this off,” she begged, loosening his tie. He was still fully dressed in his business suit. “Take it all off!”

  She slipped the tie through his collar and eyed it provocatively, grinning suggestively at him. He knew exactly what she wanted and chuckled in agreement, taking it from her hands. He quickly kissed her then rolled to his side, shifting his weight off her.

  “Shimmy up the bed, Mimi, right now,” he commanded, peeling away her torn blouse. She did exactly as he asked, happy to please him. Breathlessly, he stared at her nakedness, appreciating every womanly curve, from her soft, full breasts all the way down to her rounded hips and juicy ass. She was divinely perfect. Eve, personified.

  Luke crawled up the bed beside her and raised her arms, wrapping his tie tightly around her wrists, grinning wickedly at her. She inhaled deeply, enjoying his sexy assault. He fastened her bound wrists to the headboard, tugging tightly against the binds to ensure she couldn’t escape, then kissed her on the mouth, hard, demonstrating who was in charge.

  He quickly undressed, freeing his angry cock, and straddled himself over her squirming, defenseless body. She wiggled beneath him, testing the binds, her eyes begging him to ravish her. He’d never felt more aroused than he did in that moment, her vulnerability and need fueling his passion.

  “I want you in my mouth,” she panted, her chest heaving beneath him. He raised his brows, thrilled by her carnal confession, and eased the tip of his cock to her mouth, glossing her lips with his pre-cum. She licked the saltiness away, then opened her mouth to him, inviting him to penetrate her. He entered her slowly, allowing her to milk his cock, pulling him into her throat, deeper and deeper, her lips tight against his shaft. His arousal was thick, tightening and straining in his core, threatening to explode in her mouth. Her throaty moans sent a shiver up his spine, making his cock
beg for release, but Luke restrained himself.

  “I’m going to fuck you, woman,” he growled, slipping out of her eager mouth. Mimi glanced up at him and smirked, her soft eyes heavy with desire. He kissed her again, wrapping his fingers tightly through her hair. She returned it with an urgency that begged to be fucked, spreading her legs as further proof. He didn’t hesitate, plunging himself into her, sheathing his swollen cock in her womb.

  He fucked his woman well but could feel his orgasm surging, way too quickly, his rebellious cock surly and impatient, building with an intensity that shook him to the core.

  He raised her ass higher, dangerously rocking his hips, a slave to his demanding cock. She writhed and moaned beneath him, tightening her grip on his ass, squeezing her thighs tightly around him while she climaxed. She screamed out his name, her body bucking beneath him, pulling at her restraints. He matched her passion, desperately driving himself into her until he exploded inside, spilling his hot seed into her hungry pussy.

  Exhausted, he rested himself on top of her, allowing his cock to grow flaccid inside her, gently sucking and kissing her pert nipples. She moaned softly, the rise and fall of her breath strangely reassuring.

  “Luke?” she whispered, squeezing him with her thighs.

  “Mmm?”

  “Can you untie me?”

  “Uh-uh”, he chuckled, pulling a tight nipple into his mouth. She giggled softly and relaxed beneath him.

  “You can’t keep me tied up and vulnerable forever” she teased softly, wiggling her body beneath him.

  “Why not?” he mused, raising his head, grinning sheepishly at her.

  She shook her head and laughed, “I don’t really have a good answer.”

  “Me either,” he agreed, raising himself to kiss her.

  Chapter 42

  Luke carefully rolled himself off of her and perched on the side of the bed, slipping his slacks back on. She watched him fish into his pocket, searching for something, which he quickly palmed in his hand. He turned back and smiled at her, reaching up to untie her binds, slipping something over her finger before freeing her.

  She pulled her arms down and massaged her biceps, glancing at her left hand. She looked up at Luke, her shock a sharp contrast to his confident smile.

  “What is this?” she gasped, raising her hand to get a better look. Luke pulled up the sheets, tenderly tucking them around her.

  “Mimi, do you remember when we kissed in grade nine drama class? You were the first woman I ever kissed.”

  “I was?” she asked softly, her eyes locked to his.

  “You were. Why I didn’t do something about it then, I’ll never know. Maybe we both had a lot of growing to do, lessons to learn, life to live. I’m just grateful that we stayed in each other’s lives. You’re my best friend,” he shared, visibly shaken. She reached out and took his hand, both comforting him and encouraging him to continue.

  “I was an asshole, I know that. What happened at that party never should have happened. I was jealous of Arran, I admit it. I know I nudged you toward him because I was fucking scared, but when I realized that you could actually fall for him, it made me crazy! I thought if you knew what I was thinking...how I was falling in love with you, that you would push away from me. That it would end our friendship. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Speechless, she nodded at him to continue, sitting up and gathering the sheets tightly around her.

  “That night, after we made love, I was so ashamed about what I did. I couldn’t look you in the eye and pretend that nothing had changed. I changed. Forgive me. I’ll never hurt you again.”

  “I do, I forgive you,” she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly.

  “Mimi, when I found out you were going away with him, I honestly thought I might lose you. I knew it was my own fucking fault but it didn’t hurt any less. I promise, I was going to talk to you when you came back, come clean about everything, the party, my feelings, all of it, but then you showed up at my place last night...”.

  She nodded solemnly, dropping her eyes, recalling how angry she’d been.

  “Why didn’t you leave with Arran?”

  She swallowed hard, and shook her head, not wanting to admit how stupid she’d been.

  “He was just so wrong for me, Luke,” she mumbled, hoping he would leave it at that. He puckered his lips, as though biting his tongue. She cupped his chin gently and pulled him forward for a sweet kiss.

  “Yes,” he breathed beneath her lips. “Do you love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Marry me,” he whispered, his forehead against hers. “Be the last woman I ever kiss.”

  She eased back and looked deep into his eyes, witnessing his deepest truth. She was his. She was always his.

  “Yes.”

  He wiped away her tears and kissed her again. When he released her, she smiled and raised her hand, admiring her new hardware.

  “The ring is beautiful, Luke.”

  “It was my grandmother’s” he noted, taking her hand, nostalgically twirling the ring around her finger. “I stopped at my mom’s today and asked her for it.”

  “Oh!” she smiled, “I loved your grandma. She was always so sweet to me.”

  “Yes, sweet and sour. She was the only other woman who ever called me out on my shit,” he grinned, squeezing her fingers.

  “What can I say,” she teased, “I can only be me.”

  “That’s enough for me, Mims,” he growled, “It’s always been enough.”

  “Does this mean we can’t play outside anymore?” she smirked, her question playfully apprehensive.

  “Hell no, Cinderella!” he promised, pushing her back on the bed. “All that was only the opening act...”

  The Baby Favor

  CHANCE CARTER

  Chapter 1

  Derek

  “A baby,” he growled, his wheezy cough interrupting him mid-sentence. “That’s the only thing that matters, son. A baby. An heir. If you don’t have a baby before I die, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Personally, having a kid wasn’t at the tippy top of my priority list. I mean, in order to have a baby, you first need a woman, and even that wasn’t at the top of my list.

  Not the type of woman I’d want to start a family with, at least.

  But my father was leaving me in no doubt. Starting a family was the only thing that would gain his approval.

  I didn’t understand it. My dad, with no less than four failed marriages under his belt, was disappointed in me because I hadn’t yet provided the family with an heir.

  I was only thirty-four, after all, and had plenty of time. I was too busy running the company he’d passed on to me to think about marriage and children.

  I looked at the letter from his doctors. It had been in my hands since opening it an hour ago.

  “Three months,” it said.

  That’s how long my father could expect to live.

  Lung cancer.

  He’d been battling it for two years. Who would have thought that a rich, clever, obstinate old man who knew how to get his way whatever the cost, would be dying because he refused to give up his smoking habit.

  It broke my heart.

  I’d just gotten back from visiting him for the weekend and my doorman handed me the note.

  “It is our professional opinion that your father will expire during the next three months.”

  I struggled to read the words through the tears in my eyes.

  We’d never been especially close. He was a tough son of a gun. He was never satisfied with anything, least of all me. I’d spent the last few years of my life trying to make amends for my mistakes, building up his company into a billion dollar empire in the few years I’d been CEO, but no matter what I did, it was never enough.

  “What use is an empire if it has no heir?” he’d wheezed into my face when I went to his room to say goodbye.

  “I’ve got years ahead of me to start a family,” I told him.

  “Gah,” he
spat, waving his hand at me to show his disgust. “No heir, no inheritance.”

  I didn’t care about inheritance. Despite our wealth, money wasn’t the motivating factor in my life.

  “And no inheritance, and you won’t be carrying on our family name. I’ll disown you, son. Do you hear me? I’ll wipe the records clear of you. The family line will end with me and you won’t even be permitted to attend my funeral.”

  Now that hurt.

  Despite my seemingly carefree youth, my playboy ways, my lack of a wife or children, family was the most important thing in my life. The bonds of blood, the loyalty of family, that’s what I cared about. And he knew it.

  Things devolved quickly after that. He banned me from attending his funeral, he said he was cutting me out of the family, and he screamed at me to get out of his sight.

  His butler apologized as he escorted me from the room, but I got the distinct impression that if the old man asked him to, he and the other staff would ban me from the entire premises, would ban me from the funeral, and would see that every letter of my father’s will was carried out to a tee.

  “There’s nothing I can do to please that man,” I muttered to myself, placing my head in my hands and massaging my temples.

  I had to come up with a way to fix this.

  I’d regret it the rest of my life if my father died while being mad at me over this.

  Despite our rocky relationship, he was still my father—my old, dying father—and I was not ready to let him go. Not without bridging the gap between us first.

  But he was sort of putting me in an impossible position. I couldn’t just snap my fingers and provide him with the heir he so desperately wanted.

  I wasn’t dating anyone, and apart from flings and one night stands, I hadn’t been with a woman in years. I knew I could find a wife and start a family eventually, but in three months?

  Impossible.

  I went to bed exhausted. Fighting with my father always wore me out. During the night, I dreamt that I was driving toward the cemetery where all my family have been buried for generations. As I approached the big, brass gates, my father’s butler waved me over to the side of the road.

 

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