by Adele Hart
When Addison reaches me, I take her hand from her mother’s and smile at her. Her eyes are glistening and I know she’s trying not to cry. Lifting her veil, I can’t wait. I lower my face to hers and kiss her like my life depends on it.
The vicar clears his throat. “Your Highness. We’re not at that part of the ceremony just yet.”
The crowd laughs and I just keep on kissing her, pulling her to me as though I haven’t seen her every day for the past two years. Finally, we stop and I look down at her.
“Should we do this?” she asks, glancing at the vicar.
“I suppose. I mean, we are all dressed up.”
***
The ceremony is a blur. I barely hear the words of the vicar or the people who do the readings. I barely notice anything other than the woman standing next to me. When we start our vows though, it’s like I’m suddenly more awake than I have ever been. I smile down at her and pledge my undying love, fidelity, and devotion to her in a clear voice so everyone in the church can hear. Then she does the same and I feel like my heart will burst with joy.
And before I know it, we are pronounced husband and wife.
I dip her and say, “Let’s show them how it’s done.” Then I kiss her again with everything I’ve got in me.
***
It’s late by the time the reception ends. Instead of retiring to a room at the palace, we drive up to the lodge so we can be truly alone for our wedding night. When we arrive, the snow crunches under my shoes as I carry her from the car to the front door. Opening it with one hand, I then lift her through the doors as we kiss some more.
“We did it.” She says, as I set her down carefully.
“We sure did.”
Turning her back to me, she says, “Now, you better get started on these buttons. There’s like a thousand of them and I need you to get me naked already.”
So I do.
Epilogue 2
Addison - Five Years later
It’s our fifth anniversary. I can’t believe we’ve been married so long already and I’m only now starting to get used to people calling me Princess Addison. Except at work. No one calls me that at the law firm here in Tanovia where I work. I put in two days a week pro bono, working on international civil rights cases.
Henry and I have two children, little Anika, who just turned two, and Charles, who is nearly four. If Henry has his way, we’ll be getting started on number three tonight. We’ve gone up to the lodge, just the two of us. The kids are tucked in bed back in the palace, safe and warm with their grandparents to watch over them. My mom lives at the palace as well. She hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol for over seven years, and we’ve never been closer. She’s happy, surrounded by love and acceptance here, which makes my life all the more complete.
Henry goes to get a bottle of champagne for us and I strip down to a sexy black bra and panty set with garters holding up my tights.
Henry walks in to find me standing at the foot of the four-poster bed. I smile as I watch his eyes grow wide. “You should go sit down for a minute.”
He sets down the champagne and glasses, then loosens his tie as he makes his way to the armchair in front of the fire. I wait until he sits down then saunter over in my heels and kneel in front of him.
I tug off his tie and set it aside, then slowly unbutton the cuffs of his shirt, then each button down the front until I reveal what I’ve been waiting for. His sculpted chest is exposed and calling to me.
He shrugs off his shirt, and I unbuckle his pants, freeing his waiting cock. I stare up at him as I lower my mouth over him, leaving a ring of red lipstick as close the base as I can get. I lick and suck on his smooth, perfect shaft as though I’m starving and this is the only thing that will satisfy me. Because it is. He is.
I bob my mouth up and down while I stroke his cock and rub his balls with my fingers. Gripping the back of my head, Henry is careful not to push me down. Instead he stops me.
“Wait. I want us to finish together.”
He holds his hands out to me and helps me up off my knees, then stands so we’re facing each other. A few seconds later, he’s completely nude in front of me and his hands are on my waist. He tugs at the fabric covering my breasts, and they pop out the top, my nipples already beading with desire. His mouth covers one nipple and he swirls his tongue around it before taking me in between his teeth. I gasp a little and feel a warmth pool in my thong. The second time he does it, I almost come. I grip his perfect backside and pull him closer so his erection is against my tummy now.
Our kisses grow more urgent as he backs me over to the bear skin rug and lays me down. He kneels before me, then with a quick tug, my panties are ripped off and I’m bared to him in the soft light of the fire.
He lowers his face between my thighs, spreading my legs apart with his big hands to make room for his mouth. His tongue is feather-soft, fluttering around my clit, making me wild with desire. Finally, when I can’t take it anymore, he plunges his tongue inside my pussy, lapping up my juices and thrusting until I come undone, spilling my essence all over his mouth.
He stays there for a good, long time, drawing out every last ounce of my orgasm. When it’s over, I hold my head up for a minute and grin down at him. “I thought we were supposed to come together.”
“For our anniversary, I’m giving you multiple orgasms tonight.” He grins as he straightens up and runs his hands over my thighs.
“And all I got you was a tie.”
“That’s okay, you’ll make it up to me.”
Laying on top of me, he works his long, hard cock in between my pussy lips. With one hard thrust, he plunges inside me, making me gasp, then moan with pleasure. The feeling is incredible. We kiss and I run my hands over his muscly body as he fills me and pumps himself into me slowly but forcefully. I start to come, squeezing my pussy around his huge dick. I scream out his name and soak his cock, finally rewarded with him pulsing and tensing inside me. He slams himself into me over and over, each time lifting my ass off the floor while he fills me with his seed. When it’s done, he stays inside me, laying down on top of me, then flipping us onto our sides so he isn’t putting his full weight on me. He holds my cheek with one hand and kisses me again. We stay like this until I feel that he’s hard again.
I pout when he pulls out, but then he lays on his back and pulls me on top of him, so I’m sitting on his lap.
“Already, Henry?” I ask.
“We’re finally alone. I’m going to make use of every second of this night,” he says, pulling my face down for a kiss. “I’m going to make sure I take you home pregnant.”
I lean down and kiss him while I wiggle my hips and find his hard cock with my pussy. He slides inside me and we start again, knowing that this is forever. I’ll always be the prince’s bride.
Also by Adele Hart
Alphas and Virgins Titles
Thrill Me
Tempt Me
Take Me
Choose Me
Kiss Me
Devour Me
Make Me Titles
Make Me Yours
Make Me Crazy
Make Me Wet
Make Me Wild
Make Me Happy
Make Me Love You
Hot Heroes Titles
My Toy Boy
My Crazy Cowboy
My Naughty Professor
Bad Boys and Good Girls
Slow, Hard Puck
Fast, Hard Ride
Long, Hard Pass
Boxsets
Alphas and Virgins Collection One
Alphas and Virgins Collection Two
Make Me Volume One
Make Me Volume Two
Deliciously Dirty
Guilty Pleasures
My Hot Hero
Hard
Bad Boys and Bands
Your to Love
Naughty Royal Romances
The Prince’s Bride
Yours to Love-Sneak Peek
He could ruin me.
> The folder in front of me held at least a hundred pages. Pages filled with pictures and details of my new assignment—my only assignment because once a girl hits the spotlight she isn’t used again. A face could only be fresh once.
Arm Candy was particular about their employees, but not so much when it came to their clients. The more troubled, the better. The farther they fell, the higher they could rise.
Abel Kincaid had hit several layers beneath the surface. He was almost in the pits of hell, hanging on to the bedrock with raw, bloodied fingers.
Bullet points detailed his lesser transgressions.
Public Drunkenness
Public Nudity
Shoplifting
Destruction of property
And that’s where I come in. Basically I’d be a highly paid babysitter. Babysitting was a job I excelled in. I’d been watching over my father for years.
Dad limped into the living room. “Morning, Gia.” His face had lost some of the purple bruising he’d received from last week’s beat down.
“Coffee?” I asked.
He groaned as he sat. “Thank you, honey.”
My chair screeched across the linoleum floor of my tiny kitchen. My apartment wasn’t much, but it was paid for and no one was coming knocking because I owed them money. My job as receptionist at Arm Candy barely paid all my bills, but they were paid.
“I don’t want you doing this. You’re not selling yourself to a man to pay my debts. He’s worse than me.” Dad shuffled through the papers and shoved them aside.
I handed him a cup of coffee. He took his bitter and dark. He said he liked it in its purest form. I thought he liked the way it blended with his personality. Dad had never been the same since mom left him five years ago. That’s when all the trouble started.
I plopped into the chair beside him and straightened the pages. My eyes continued to focus on one photo. It was a candid shot of Abel smiling. He was caught in an unfiltered moment. That was my goal. To get him to smile like that again.
“I’m not selling myself. I’m simply running adult day care.” I looked at the man who was supposed to be looking after me. At twenty-eight, I hadn’t outgrown the need for a father figure, but it had been a long time since I had one. “As for being as bad as you? Something tells me he doesn’t owe a loan shark ten grand with interest compounding daily.” I held up the latest photo of my new project. Abel was a handsome man with a beard to die for. “He seems to have missed the meaty fists of Igor.”
Dad touched his Rocky Balboa eyes and winced.
“If he does anything to you, I’ll—”
“Beat him with your cast?”
Dad’s shoulders sank.
“Consider us lucky that none of the usual recruits wanted the job.” The assignment came up so fast that no one was available to take it, which is why it was offered to me.
Dad shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. Along with his broken arm and beaten face, he had two broken ribs, and contusions all over his body. I was pretty sure there wasn’t a place on his body that didn’t hurt. Most people would think Dad would learn his lesson and not borrow money from bad men only to give it to worse men at illegal poker games, but this was the second time in two years he’d fallen short of being able to pay his debt. Two times the interest he owed was taken out in flesh.
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’m following him on tour, making sure he gets from point A to point B. Keeping him focused and on his game.”
“Where will you sleep?”
I sipped my creamy, sweet coffee and decided to pull my dad’s chain. “On the tour bus, spooned between the lead guitarist and the bass player.”
“If I wasn’t so sore, I’d throw you over my lap and paddle you.”
I gathered the papers and put them in the folder. “You lost that privilege years ago, but it might be nice if you took up adulting again.”
“I’m trying.”
I gently patted him on the back. “Try harder.” I finished my coffee and put my cup in the sink. “Behave yourself while I’m gone. If I find out you stepped foot in any backroom poker game or spent a dime on anything that didn’t nourish your body, I’ll beat you myself.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I love you Dad, but sorry doesn’t pay the bills.”
“I’m done gambling. It’s become too painful. I promise to pay you back.” He drank his coffee. “How much are they paying you for this job anyway?”
I wasn’t giving him an exact number. There was no way I’d tell him I was getting five hundred a day plus expenses. No doubt he’d figure out a way to gamble away my future earnings. “Enough to get you clear so you can get back to work without fear someone’s going to murder you.” Grateful didn’t begin to describe how I felt when they broke his arm instead of his legs. At least he’d be back on the construction site in a few weeks. “I’ve gotta pack.”
When dad moved in last month, I gave him my room. It seemed the respectful thing to do. No matter how irresponsible Frank Simone was, he was still my dad. In the tiny room at the end of the hall, I yanked the black suitcase covered in flower stickers from under my twin bed. Was it possible to pack a month’s worth of clothes in so little space? Did I have a month of clothes? The answer to both questions was no. Pack smart.
I rolled and folded nearly everything I had and when I finished I laid on the bed and stared at the smiling photo of Abel. What put that grin on his face? The key to my success was finding out.
Arm Candy didn’t send their receptionists on most assignments. In fact, this was a first, but the record label hiring me didn’t want a bombshell beauty to distract Abel, and they needed someone fast. They weren’t looking for the kind of woman pretty enough to be mistaken as a love interest. They needed a woman who could get him from point A to point B. That was something any grown man should be able to do for himself but Abel didn’t seem that able.
I pulled my computer on top of my thighs and began my personal research. Everything was in the details. Mr. Kincaid was a paparazzi favorite. As hard as it was to take my eyes off of him, I looked in the background. Abel was quite a surprise. While people around him drank Cristal and top shelf booze, my bad boy was never without an orange soda in his hand. In several photos, his crew raced around on Ducatis and various other crotch rockets. My troublemaker went old school with a Harley.
I had to say, the wind caressed his hair into a perfect, just-got-laid look. That took my mind in a totally different direction. Obviously, Abel had his choice of women, but he rarely had one on his arm. I wrote down my stalkerish findings just as the theme song from Survivor played on my phone. Martine didn’t make me eat worms, sleep in a tent, or wear a buff, but she threw down challenge after challenge. This assignment felt like a tribal council. If I screwed up, I’d be voted off the island.
“Hello, Martine.” No surprise she was calling. I’d been briefed on the client a dozen times, but she wasn’t confident that I could pull it off. “Before you ask, I’m packed and ready to go.”
“You have—”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“You were going to ask if I had his schedule memorized. If I knew the passcodes to his tour bus? Then you were going to ask me if I’d packed my hard outer shell because he won’t be receptive to the idea of a shadow.”
Martine was silent, unusual for a woman who was never at a loss for words. “How did you know?”
“You pay me to know.” She didn’t pay me enough. Fifteen an hour only made ends meet. Even at five hundred a day, I was getting paid fifty percent of the standard rate. “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”
“All right,” she huffed. “Call me when you get to Los Angeles.”
“No problem.” Lord, I hoped there wouldn’t be any problems. How difficult could a spoiled musician be?
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About the Author
Adele Hart is a stay-at-hom
e mom who secretly writes sexy stories whenever she gets a chance. After reading hundreds of romances, she decided to skip all the angst and ugliness, and just get to the good stuff. You know, the part that makes you say, 'Oh my!'
So if you're like Adele, and you want to indulge your guilty pleasures with naughty but nice, fast and fun stories about super hot, practically perfect men and the sweet women who love them, then you've come to the right place.
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