Unexpected Daddies

by Lively, R. S.

  "Do you think your parents are done looking at the giant pumpkins yet?" I ask.

  Miriam and Arthur have acted like giddy children since we first got here. They've spent the day telling me all the things about the fair that are so similar to ones back in Cambria, and then discovering something new and different they have to try. I laugh as I watch them. I find it hilarious to see the King and Queen of Cambria in what they consider casual clothes, moving throughout the crowd with no concern as to whether people recognize them or not. I've seen a few people look at them for a few seconds longer than necessary, puzzled looks on their faces. I wonder what went through their mind as their brains recognized the royal couple's faces, and then tried to reconcile that with them carrying a baby from exhibit to exhibit at a Virginia fair. Nobody sees our security detail because they're so well disguised with the crowd. But I notice them. They've become a common part of my daily existence and having them here is just another way the chapters of my life are melding together.

  "I'm not sure," Christian says. "They were pretty fascinated by them."

  I laugh.

  "Why? You have pumpkins in Cambria."

  "Not ones that weigh over a thousand pounds," he says.

  "Maybe we can fix that," I say.

  "You want our next adventure to be growing competitive oversized produce?"

  I laugh again.

  "Why not? An adventure is an adventure, and I don't want to go another day of my life without an adventure with you."

  * * *

  Christian

  "You are the most unbelievable person I have ever known," I say.

  It's completely true. In the little over a year that I've known her, Piper has taken over everything. She never leaves my mind. When I'm not near her, I miss her with a ferocity I never would have thought possible. When I'm with her, I'm relaxed and fulfilled.

  I sigh as she leans forward to rest her forehead against mine.

  "Let's go ride the Ferris wheel," she says.

  "Absolutely."

  I look around us as we walk along the midway. Around us, couples are holding hands, families playing games, and time seems to be standing still. This is real life. There are no responsibilities hanging over me, or strict rules to follow. This is why I wanted to bring Piper here. When Tabitha told me about the picture her father kept with him, I knew it was a piece of my wife I hadn't discovered yet. I was worried when she seemed so upset when we first got here. I thought I made a mistake planning this as a surprise. But that is the point of the trips we planned for our honeymoon. Not just a vacation, but a celebration of us. That means celebrating not just the life we have together now, and the one we've chosen to continue, but the lives we had before finding each other. I will be forever grateful for every minute she lived before running through that airport, and every minute of my own life before she bounced off my luggage cart. Even the painful ones. Even the dark ones. Even ones we've managed to make disappear from our minds. It's those minutes that brought us to each other, to right now.

  The Ferris wheel car rocks slightly as we climb in. It's large enough to accommodate at least six people, but the attendant closes the door with just the two of us inside. Piper tucks herself against my side, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close. The wheel moves us up into the sky much more quickly than I expected before stopping at the top. I look out over the edge of the car, struck by how beautiful the fair looks from our high vantage point. This world of colors is surreal, and the air flowing through my hair is cold, but still laced with the sounds and smells from the festivities below. It reminds me of the Ferris wheel in Cambria, the one I told Piper about when we first met. I make a note to myself to visit again when we get home. Maybe I'll bring Aurora on it with me, and start a new tradition of our own.

  Piper doesn't know this is only the beginning of the surprise I have planned for her. Tomorrow we leave for our real honeymoon. The private island is a complete departure from anything we've experienced together yet, and I can't wait to be there with her. Traveling around and playing tourist has been fun, but I need some alone time with my wife. I don’t think I can ever get enough of her, but I am more than willing to try.

  * * *

  I open the door to the hotel room and push it open with my hip, making sure not to spill the ice bucket I’m carefully balancing in my hands. Not having room service interrupting to bring us everything we need is well worth the indulgent isolation of the private resort. This is especially true when I know my wife is waiting for me.

  The room smells of scented candles, and the door to the balcony is open, letting sunlight and salty air pour into the room. Piper lies on the bed, dressed in a black lace bra and panty set, her black thigh-highs attached to a garter with a tiny white bow.

  I pull off the light cotton t-shirt I had thrown on that morning and toss it onto a chair near the balcony door. Piper giggles and I grin, knowing that sound means she is feeling playful. I unbutton my shorts and let them drop. I walk over to the side of the bed and Piper sits up, beckoning me to lay down next to her.

  I lie down and reach to pull off my boxers, but Piper rolls over onto my legs, clasping my hands with hers and pushing forward for a deep, intense kiss.

  "Let me," she says, moving my hands out of her way.

  Slowly, she pulls down on my underwear until my cock springs forth from them. Once they have been tossed to the ground, she resumes her position on my legs, hovering over my cock.

  Achingly slowly, she moves her face down, maintaining constant eye contact with me until she is at the base of my shaft. Her tongue slips out and she runs it along the bottom of my length before sliding up it, all the way to the top, where sweet sticky fluids have already formed. She licks me until I am breathless and lightheaded with desire.

  Piper's eyes never leave mine as she places her mouth over the head and sucks gently. Opening her mouth, she takes my entire cock between her lips, and the sudden warmth and softness of her mouth overpowers every rational part of my brain. I can think of nothing I want more in this moment than Piper. She strokes me with one hand while squeezing her mouth around my cock with just the right amount of pressure, sending me quickly to the edge of orgasm.

  I know I won't last long, and I reach to stop her, but she pushes my hand down forcefully. This simple act of control from her emboldens and pushes me closer to my release. I can feel my insides beginning to clench and the muscles in my thighs tighten.

  "I'm going to come," I say, and Piper slides her mouth all the way down to the base.

  I explode into her, the orgasm so strong that I’m temporarily struck mute. She milks me with her hand and her mouth, swallowing with a satisfied whimper as she cleans me thoroughly with her tongue.

  She sits up, slowly continuing to stroke me, fully aware of how sensitive I am right now. Silently she crawls forward until her core is above my face, and I can feel the heat of her radiating down on me. I hunger for her, but I want to give her this moment of control, allow her to fulfill her needs before I take what I want from her again. Already my cock is on its way back to full hardness as she moves her panties aside. She lowers slightly, and I slide my tongue out to find her. I hear her gasp as I slide it inside.

  * * *

  Piper

  Christian thrusts his tongue inside of me before removing it and sweeping up the sides of my pussy. He is enjoying this moment, and so am I. The power of the man beneath me is so palpable, but I know he’s restraining himself to allow me this control. I know at any moment now he is going to take me, as I can see his erection has recovered and is standing as stiff as when I first removed his boxers.

  I feel his hands move to cup my ass. Just his touch alone sends a shiver of lust through me. His tongue is still lazily working its way toward my clit, finding its way to my most sensitive area. One of his hands moves, and I feel it slide down my ass and to my tight slit. At this moment, he begins to gently suck on my tight clit, and I moan loudly. A finger slides inside of me and his other
hand reaches up to my breast, massaging it through my bra.

  Concentrating on the feeling of his fingers and tongue inside me, I focus on removing the bra to give him free access to my breasts. Once it's off, his fingers reach for one, kneading the breast, and twirling his thumb around the sensitive peak. I use one hand to do the same to the other and I can feel myself barreling toward an orgasm. Christian begins to ramp up the speed of his tongue, and his finger begins to slide in and out of me, mimicking the motion his cock will do soon. I hear myself moaning in pleasure, and the abandon in my own voice sends me even higher. The wave begins to crash around me, and I buck my pelvis over Christian's face. He knows I’m about to come, and he clasps onto my thighs and applies harder pressure with his tongue on my clit, and I scream out his name as a dizzying orgasm roars through my body.

  Still enjoying my orgasm, I scoot down his body to his cock, and Christian pulls me into position before ripping my panties off me. I feel him slide into me effortlessly, and I begin to ride him. My speed increases until he picks me up and flips me onto my back. Christian has reached the point where he can no longer resist, and his renewed sense of control sends a new surge of ecstasy through me. I ride wave after wave of pleasure as he pounds into me relentlessly. My arms reach above me to push against the wall, and I arch my hips up to meet his thrusts.

  Christian takes the opportunity to take my breast in his mouth and as his tongue twirls around my nipple, his hands reach down and lift my ass off the bed. He doesn't stop his rhythm and instead only increases speed, his mouth now sucking furiously on my breast. I reach my leg up and Christian puts his arm underneath it, folding it back onto me so that one leg is in the air. He slides off the bed now, never leaving me, and stands on the wooden floor. One arm is holding my leg, and I can feel him kiss my ankle. He continues to ram into me and I feel myself losing all control, all sense of reason.

  I begin to shake with an intense orgasm, and Christian drops my leg to place both hands on my hips, so he can slam into me as hard as he can. My vision begins to blur as I focus intently on the pleasure of our bodies. A few more hard thrusts, and I feel his cock inside me begin to throb and erupt. He pumps a few more times, a loud growl coming from deep in his chest as he comes inside of me. I feel his cock pulse over and over until he is finally spent and slides back into bed beside me. I curl into Christian, my back to him, his face resting in the crook of my neck. He kisses me gently there and I turn my face to kiss him once more. He cups my breast in his hand, and I hear him let out a long, satisfied sigh.

  This honeymoon has been more than I ever could have dreamed of. Knowing Aurora is in the caring hands of her grandparents, and the nanny who traveled to help them, allows me to relax completely. I don’t have to think about anything but being with Christian. I never want this bliss to end, but I’m also looking forward to everything we have ahead of us. After our honeymoon, the three of us will spend several months in the States before heading back to Cambria. Splitting our time is the only way we both can continue our lives while still building a future together. There will come a time when we won’t have as much freedom, so we’re cherishing every bit of it now.

  In my short time as Christian’s true wife, I’ve discovered all the incredible humanitarian opportunities available to me because of my new role. I can’t wait to get involved in as many as possible. We’re going to make a real difference in the lives of others. Together Christian and I are exploring ways to do more, both in Cambria, and the rest of the world.

  More than anything, I look forward to living happily with him and our perfect daughter, as I cherish the love he gives me, and my new life as his princess.

  THE END

  Book Five - My Billionaire Protector

  Chapter One

  Carter

  Twenty Years Ago...

  “What's up, Carter?”

  I look up from my book, annoyed at the sudden interruption, to see Gary standing there looking at me. He's the closest thing I have to a friend, but I don’t really like him all that much. He does what I say – usually without questioning me – so, he's not completely useless.

  And, if I'm being honest, having a conversation with him from time to time is better than pure solitude all day, every day. I can only stand the sound of my own voice – of being trapped inside my head – for so long.

  “What do you want, Gary?” I ask.

  “New kid's getting his ass kicked,” Gary says, a wide, gap-toothed grin on his face.

  “Where?”

  “They're on the field out back.”

  Field is a pretty generous description for the twenty-by-twenty dirt lot that butts up against the back of the home. But, when you're an orphan, you take what you can get. It's not like we have much of a choice in the matter anyway, so we make the best we can with what we got. Which really don't amount to shit.

  “Who's doing the beating?” I ask.

  “Luke,” he said.

  I sigh and shake my head as I shut my book. I've already told Luke a dozen times that he is not to lay a finger on anybody in the home. Not without my permission, at least. That's the rules. Everyone knows I'm the one calling the shots around here, and nothing happens without my say-so.

  And Luke sure as hell doesn’t have my permission to be beatin' on the newbies.

  “Show me,” I instruct and stand up, following Gary out to the back.

  Growing up in New York ain't like growing up in other places. This city will eat you alive if you let it. It takes a different kinda person to grow up here. Requires a certain mental toughness other places don't.

  That goes double when you grow up in Hell's Kitchen, which has some of the toughest streets in all of New York – maybe even the entire country. And when you're an orphan, growing up in a home in Hell's Kitchen, you have it the toughest of all. It forces you to grow up fast and grow up hard. When you're an orphan in the Kitchen, you're looked down on and treated like shit by every single asshole out there.

  Of course, they tend to lose that attitude real quick after you beat the crap outta them. They tend to lose it pretty damn fast, in fact.

  It was that reputation – that of the kid you don't fuck with – that I've been building, and nurturing during my time at St. Agatha's Home for Children. Somebody you don't want to mess with.

  I make damn sure that everyone knows I am not somebody you screw with. Not if you want to stay upright and among the living.

  Being tough, being an asshole, and taking no shit, is pretty much the only way to survive in a place like St. Agatha's.

  The fact of the matter is that most of us are in this damn home until we turn eighteen – which means, I still have four years of this shit to suffer through. Four years of trying to keep myself on top and trying to survive.

  The nuns tell me to be positive, and to keep my head up.

  They like to say that life can change in the blink of an eye, and all it takes is for one special person to come in here and connect with me. Yeah, I try to be respectful of them, but I want to tell them they can peddle those feel good fantasies somewhere else, because I ain't buyin' them.

  I ain't foolin' myself. I'm not an idiot. I'm a realist. And I really doubt anyone’s gonna come waltzing in here, decide their life is incomplete without me, and whisk me away to some grand estate somewhere out in the country with fresh air, sunshine, and animals galore. Life isn’t some fairy tale.

  All these idiots who still have those stupid dreams of fairy tale endings and a loving family floating around in their heads, make me sick. It ain't gonna happen. No matter how many times you click your damn heels together, or how many stars you wish upon, you're probably going to be stuck in the home until you're no longer a responsibility of the state. After that, well, you're on your own.

  So, whenever some new kid rolls in here all full of hope and optimism, and when they talk – usually spouting rainbows, sunshine, and glittery crap, about how it's only a matter of time before they find a forever home – I want to slap t
hem with a cold dose of fuckin' reality. A few times actually, since some people are slower to learn than others. They need to learn about the real world, and how it doesn't give a damn about any of us.

  Suffice it to say, I don't have a lot of friends in here. The flip side of having this kind of reputation is that you spend a lotta time alone. People are afraid to get near you, so you better like your own company. Fortunately, I do. I feel most comfortable on my own, alone with my thoughts and books, to be honest. I don't want or need anybody. Never have, never will. I'm independent as hell, and plan to stay that way.

  Aa long as I have my books, I don’t need anybody. In fact, in a strange way, my books were what started me on the road to building the reputation I have. The one I've been nurturing for a while now.

  I was barely ten when I was dropped off at St. Aggie's with nothing but a change of clothes and a bag filled with books. My parents – if you want to call them that – got tired of having a kid around. Apparently, I put a real damper on their life and after a few years, they wanted to party, not raise a family.

  That was fine though. I'm better off without them. Honestly, who knows what kind of sad shit I'd be if they'd kept me immersed in their drug and booze-riddled lifestyle.

  The only time it was tough was around Christmas. I hated seeing TV programs or movies that showed families on Christmas, laughing and enjoying each other, opening gifts, or doing anything families do, really. Hated it with a white-hot, burning passion.

  Sitting alone in a place as depressing as St. Aggie's, with no holiday cheer to speak of, knowing you're not going to wake up to see a hundred presents under the tree or the smiling faces of family, hear their laughter and joy, or have a hot meal, like ham with all of the side dishes, at a table filled with love and happiness – yeah, it sucked. It left me bitter and resentful. Made me really come to despise all the things I never had, but secretly wanted.