Royal Engagement

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Royal Engagement Page 117

by Chance Carter


  “Show me how naughty I’ve been, daddy.”

  Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

  My butt was pink and burning and I wriggled it at him sassily.

  He pressed himself against me, squeezing my thick buttocks and kissing my neck. Alexander’s swollen flesh was warm against mine as he pulled down his pants and boxers to let it break free. Hot and bothered, I turned to face him and gripped his cock in one hand. With the other hand, I felt up his spectacular muscles. He let out a satisfied moan that only made me want to squeeze harder and kiss deeper.

  I ran my hands up and down his creamy skin as I clawed with desperation. Beads of sweat from his body soaked mine. He found his way on top of me and alternated between kissing my neck and caressing my perky tits with his tongue. I felt my nipples grow tight, and my mouth fought to find his. His perfect, juicy tongue danced with mine as I searched for an outlet for my passion.

  Alexander stood up, bringing me with him. Our bodies were one. I felt his strong hands grip my ass as we landed on the floor in a tangle. We didn’t miss a beat. I got on top of him, and, though he had a brief look of confusion, he let me take the lead. Before having our bodies collide once again, I moved downward and took his raging erection deep into my mouth. I felt up his rock-hard abdomen as I caressed his growing shaft with my tongue.

  I continued toying with his cock, running my tongue around the head in circles, until I felt it throb in pre-orgasmic pleasure.

  It was time.

  I adjusted my body on top of him to let him fill me completely. He slid inside me so perfectly it made me cry out in pure joy.

  His hardness felt like pure bliss as I rocked back and forth. I went fast and let him absorb me. He was big in every way possible. I breathed in slow, desperate rhythms as Alexander teased my breasts. With each careful move, I felt him deeper, stronger inside of me. I could feel my soft flesh becoming drenched in excitement, and I rode him until shots of pleasure began to surge through my body. I felt his warm, wet orgasm inside of me as I screamed out in pleasure.

  As my orgasms washed over me, he poured spurts of cum powerfully into the very core of my body. The sensation was mind-bending. I cried out with each surge of his semen, the orgasms refusing to give way.

  Eventually, my body was too exhausted for any more pleasure and the orgasms subsided.

  I was numb. My inner thighs were stiff as I shuddered in completion. The explosion of release filled me, and I couldn’t move for several moments. I had never felt such intense release. “Wow,” was all Alexander could muster, much like how I’d been the first time we had made love. He’d said what I was thinking. This had, by far, exceeded every wild fantasy of mine.

  We laid in a clumsy pile on the floor as we let our fingers intertwine. “I love you,” I said.

  “I love you, too,” Alexander said. The desire in the air was palpable, and we laid in blissful silence for several minutes, basking in our passion. Without so much as another word, we dove in for another round of lovemaking.

  Our hands felt every part of one another as we let our lips do most of the work this time. Alexander’s kiss was intoxicating. Our tongues slipped between each other’s lips as we made our way back onto the bed. I decided to let Alexander take the lead this time. As our lips remained magnetized to one another, his delicate but firm fingers made their way inside of me. I moaned as he slowly made his way further. His moves with his fingers were just as deliberate and sexy as his moves with his cock. He made his way toward my most sensitive spot as I cried out with pleasure as another shower of orgasms washed over me.

  If I had to rate our motel room on a scale of one to ten, as compared to the room we received upon our arrival at the Sheraton, it would have been a negative five. Though the Rowdy Motor Inn was the site of deep pleasure, it was the epitome of seedy motels. The Sheraton was gorgeous from the moment we stepped inside. I felt like we were on a luxurious vacation, instead of simply on a trip to see Alexander’s family. From the lobby, the outdoor pool, an oasis complete with lounge chairs and a hot tub, was visible, and I also learned from Alexander that there was an indoor pool.

  The hotel room was the biggest of any I’d ever stayed in. Of course, this wasn’t saying much, as most of my getaways had been with college friends on a tight budget. Suites had never even been on my radar. Nonetheless, having a living area and a bedroom in the same hotel room was something completely new to me.

  “Wow,” I whispered as I put my bags down.

  “You like?” Alexander half-said, half-asked. I nodded. “Only the best for my beautiful girlfriend.”

  Feeling the baby kick in my stomach, the word “girlfriend” sent me taking the smallest step backward, but only because it felt like such a measly word in relation to our situation. I suppose it sounded better than “baby mama”, so I shrugged it off. I wouldn’t let my oversensitivity ruin our stay. Alexander leaned in for a kiss, and I obliged. “Everything has been incredible, babe,” I said.

  Alexander smiled. “I’m glad.” He changed into workout clothes and headed off to tone his already-perfect muscles at the fitness center. I stayed back in the comfort of the fluffy hotel bed and basked in the magnificence of this trip.

  Chapter 22

  Alexander

  Christmas Eve day in the Preston family was no big deal, but Christmas Eve was even more exciting than Christmas day. For as long as I could remember, we’d have Christmas Eve dinner at six o’clock—always with my mother’s famous cooking—and hang the Christmas ornaments, open presents, and head to a light show at a nearby field.

  It was something we’d all looked forward to since Connor and Patrick were old enough to walk and talk. I was excited, albeit a bit nervous, to have Casey with us to participate in the festivities this year. I’d watched enough awful TV movies to know that Christmas was a horrible time of year for those who came from broken—or nonexistent— families, so I just hoped that Casey would be alright with the big hoopla we put on every year.

  Casey woke up with bad morning sickness, so our morning was spent lounging around the hotel room and watching Law & Order reruns in between her trips to the bathroom. I wished desperately that I could help her feel better, but that was one thing beyond my control. When she was finally feeling better, we decided to head down to the indoor pool on the fourth floor so I could swim laps and Casey could relax.

  “I look ridiculous in my bathing suit,” Casey said, looking in the full-length mirror as she tugged the suit over her bump.

  I pulled up my swim trunks and turned to face her. How could she think that? She was stunning, even with a frown on her face. The sunlight from the window was hitting her at just the right angle, and her skin was glowing as if she were an angel. “Don’t be silly, babe,” I said. “You look gorgeous.” I walked over and planted two kisses, one on her lips, and one on the bit of skin that was showing in her two-piece.

  An hour at the pool turned into an hour showering and getting ready. Finally, it was time for the Preston family Christmas festivities to begin. “You don’t have to participate in anything you’re not comfortable with,” I said to Casey on the car ride over. “I know some of our traditions are ridiculous. If you don’t want to go to the light show or hang ornaments, we can always—”

  “Don’t be silly,” Casey laughed. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since you told me about it.” Her smile reassured me that Christmas Eve was going to be fine.

  I shrugged. “You’ve been warned.”

  Connor greeted us at the door and led us into the living room, where Christmas ornaments were dispersed across the floor. The aroma of lasagna wafted through the air and made me hope this year’s ornament shuffle would go faster than last year’s. “Time to decorate the tree!” Mom chirped.

  All six of us took turns shuffling through the ornaments, deciding which ones would make the cut this year. I was pleasantly surprised to see how fast Emily and Casey clicked. Emily was entering her final semester of her medical residency, and Casey
worked at a fertility clinic, so I supposed they had that in common. They also happened to be two of the most talkative and fashionable women I knew.

  “Look at this one,” Dad said, holding an ornament out in Casey’s direction. “This is from when Alexander was two years old.” I didn’t have to look at the ornament he was holding to know that it was the one with a photo of me in my underwear holding maracas. Everyone had a nice laugh at my expense.

  “This one’s my favorite,” Emily said, holding up a crystal ornament with all of our names for everyone to see.

  “How about you, sweetie?” my mom asked, turning to me. “Do you have a favorite for the tree?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Whichever one will get me the lasagna the fastest.” As my joke sent my family into a frenzy of laughter, I noticed Casey walk off to the corner of the room. She dug through her purse and came back holding a small box.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Preston,” she said. Everyone stopped to look at her.

  “Please, call us Lynn and Marc,” Mom replied.

  Casey looked nervous as she adjusted her oversized dress to cover her bump. “Lynn and Marc, I just want to thank you for having me this Christmas. Alexander told me about your tradition and I thought maybe I could contribute.”

  My mom took the box Casey’s hands and carefully removed the ribbon. “Oh my goodness, dear,” Mom said, staring intently at the contents of the box. “This is stunning!”

  “Let us see,” Emily said.

  “Yes, Lynn, can we see what it is?” my father asked, though it sounded like more of a statement than a question.

  Mom held up a multicolored ornament that had “Preston” written in large letters, and each of our names below it in a gorgeous script. I was just as surprised by the ornament as the rest of my family. I’d initially mistaken my mother’s fawning as fake, but I could tell by the looks on everyone’s faces that they genuinely loved the ornament.

  “It’s perfect, Casey,” Emily said. “Where on earth did you get it?”

  Casey’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pinkish-red. “Actually…umm…I made it.” Everyone—my dopy brothers included—told Casey how beautiful the ornament was and how talented an artist she was. We decided that the perfect spot for it on the tree was right next to my maraca ornament.

  “Babe, that was so sweet of you,” I whispered as we made our way to the dinner table. “I didn’t know you could paint.”

  Casey shrugged. “Just a little hobby of mine.” The smile she gave me was a sight I wouldn’t have minded seeing every day for the rest of my life. She made me feel like a teenager again. Still mesmerized by how well my family was taking to Casey, I took my seat between her and Patrick. It was time for Mom’s famous lasagna.

  As I turned to pass the bowl of Caesar salad to Casey, I found her facing the other way, engaged in conversation with my sister and mother. It had been one day since Casey had met my family, and already she was comfortable having conversations without needing me there. She really was incredible.

  Christmas Eve was the most exciting dinner in the Preston household, but also one of the quietest. We were all too busy chowing down on lasagna, meatballs, and salad. My parents asked Casey all the normal questions you might ask someone you’re getting to know—where she grew up, what she liked to do for fun—that they hadn’t already asked upon meeting her. She answered each question with grace and seemed to satisfy and impress my family. I almost spilled the beans about the pregnancy when I started to make a crack about Casey eating for two, but I stopped myself just in time.

  “So, do you do any other art besides painting gorgeous ornaments?” Mom asked Casey with a mouth full of a food.

  “Not too much,” Casey said. “Actually, that’s the first ornament I’ve ever painted. I like to draw from time to time, and make some crafts I see online, but that’s about it.”

  Mom nodded and swallowed her bite of food. “Well, next time you guys visit, Emily and I will have to take you to a local paint studio we love.” My mother said “next time”. That was a good indication she not only liked Casey, but liked the two of us together and wanted to spend extra time with her.

  “I’d love that,” Casey said.

  Per usual, Mom offered everyone extra helpings of every dish half a dozen times before concluding that dinner was over. “I guess that means it’s present time,” she exclaimed.

  My siblings ran into the living room the same way they had for the past twenty years. I guess some things never change. It suddenly occurred to me that, other than a gift I had for Casey back at the hotel, she had no Christmas gifts waiting for her. “Mom,” I said, motioning for her to come over. Instead, she ignored me and walked over to Casey.

  “I know this probably seems bizarre,” Mom said to Casey as they walked over to the living room. I followed closely behind. “It’s one of our favorite Christmas traditions, opening up our presents on Christmas Eve.”

  “And a silly one at that,” Dad chimed in. “Your family do anything silly like this?” He immediately realized his mistake, and I wanted so badly to rewind time to save Casey from hearing the question. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I spoke without thinking.”

  “It’s fine, really,” Casey said. I knew her well enough to know the smile she had on was fake, but I was grateful that she was trying to make my dad feel better. I was sure he felt terrible about the slip of the tongue. He had a tough exterior, but, deep down inside, he was a big softie.

  Mom motioned to everyone to be quiet. “Alright, everyone. Find the pile with your name on the gift labels and take a seat.”

  I looked over at Casey, whose eyes were glued to her shoes. I didn’t blame her for feeling uncomfortable. Sure, we’d done the whole present thing for years, but I figured surely my mom would adjust our traditions so Casey wouldn’t feel left out.

  “Alexander, over here,” Patrick called from the other side of the living room.

  “One sec.” I walked over to my mother and lowered my voice to a whisper. “Mom, do you really think this is the best idea? I mean, Casey—”

  “Casey, sweetheart,” my mother started. “Your pile is next to Alexander’s.” She shot me a knowing look. I probably shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was, given that my mother was pretty much always right about everything, but the sigh of relief I breathed was loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Really?” Casey asked. My mom nodded. I could see tears forming in the corners of Casey’s eyes, and I realized this was probably the first Christmas she’d celebrated with family since her mom had passed away. I sat next to her and wrapped her in a hug.

  “Who wants to go first?” Dad asked.

  “How about you go, my dear?” Mom said. “Us parents always go last.” My dad opened up his first present to reveal a new wallet, and I hoped that, no matter how old I got, my presents were never quite that lame. Christmas was the one time of year when I truly felt like a kid again, and I never wanted that feeling to go away. The first round of presents brought me a tie, Emily a new stethoscope, Connor a new history book he’d been hinting at, and Patrick a watch. I was nervous to see what my family had picked out for Casey.

  Casey carefully removed the tissue paper from the Christmas tree-covered gift bag. Her eyes lit up as she pulled out a pair of earrings. “They’re stunning, and they match the bracelet I always wear,” she said, putting her wrist out into the circle. She turned toward my parents. “Thank you so much.”

  “Of course,” Mom said. “Emily and I had bought you a different pair before we met you yesterday, but we decided those weren’t your style. When we saw these at a boutique, they had your name all over them!”

  “They’re perfect.” For what felt like the hundredth time of the night, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was as though Casey was meant to be part of this family.

  My mom was next. She unwrapped her first gift, a blender she had purchased—and wrapped—herself. Since we were running late for the light show, we opted to make the next two rounds of gif
ts a free for all. “1…2…3…” we all yelled. We tore into our presents like wild animals.

  I was less-than-impressed with the button-down shirt my mother had picked as my second present, but I decided I’d save it to wear for next Christmas. My final present was in an envelope. Though I expected it to be a gift card to a restaurant or department store, I was pleasantly surprised to see the MLB logo peeking out from the card. It was tickets to see the Yankees take on the Atlanta Braves.

  “Thank you,” I said to Mom. “I love it!” Sure, I could afford a pair of tickets to a baseball game on my own. But there was just something special about receiving gifts from your parents. I turned over to Casey, who was showing off her gifts to Connor. “What’d you get?”

  “A necklace to match the earrings and a gorgeous scarf,” Casey said with a grin. “I can’t believe your parents got me all this! They just met me!”

  I smirked. “Guess that means they like you.” We collected the mess of wrapping paper, gift bags, and tissue paper and threw them in a trash bag on our way outside. My brothers and sister rode with my parents, while Casey and I enjoyed a few minutes of quiet before the chaos of the light show.

  Following my mom’s forest green minivan down Chester Lane, I glanced over at Casey. I’d driven this road hundreds of times before, but never with someone I cared so much about. When I asked Casey if she was enjoying herself, her only answer was a toothy smile. As we pulled onto the field, I frowned, knowing none of the lights there would be anywhere near as bright as that smile of hers.

  Chapter 23

  Casey

  “Your family’s great,” I said to Alexander, as we walked up the stairs to our second-floor suite.

  “I’m glad you liked them,” Alexander replied. “I could tell they absolutely adored you.” I felt it too, but it was nice to get reassurance from the person I needed it from the most.

  Something was tugging at the back of my mind, and I had spent most of the night swatting it away. I figured now was as good a time as any to come clean. “I have to confess,” I started. “There’s something that’s been bugging me all night.”

 

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