by Parker Grey
He’s just laughing at jokes, sure, but still.
Finally, breakfast is over, and we all stand to leave the room. But as I walk out there’s a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see my brother’s serious face.
“Aurora,” he says. “A word?”
My heart takes a swan dive into my stomach, but I force myself to smile anyway.
“Sure,” I say, and let him pull me back into the breakfast room.
He looks tired, probably the result of having a three-month-old son, but his eyes search mine anyway.
“The head of security told me that you were out and about very late last night,” he says. “Is everything all right?”
“Grayson, I’m allowed to take a walk in the palace, I’m not—”
He holds up one hand, looking startled.
“Aurora, I wasn’t saying that. Of course you are,” he says. “I’m just asking if everything is all right.”
I swallow hard, fighting down my nerves.
Don’t get too defensive, I tell myself. Act normal.
“Sorry,” I say, forcing myself to smile. “I just couldn’t sleep last night, so I’m a little tired and on edge today.”
“You’re not in any trouble, are you?”
I laugh. Too loudly, much too loudly.
“What? No! Trouble, pshaw,” I say. “Just taking a late walk because of insomnia.”
He nods, his eyes suspicious again.
“Good,” he says. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
We walk out of the breakfast room for the second time, and Grayson changes the subject, talking about tonight’s banquet and the dance that’ll follow. Stefan’s christening is a solid week’s worth of activities, all meticulously planned and executed.
But he knows about the gown and the shoes, I think.
That means he knows you’re probably lying.
You have to warn Declan somehow.
And you definitely can’t meet him tonight.
That last thought is the worst thought I’ve had in a long, long time.
Chapter Eighteen
Declan
I wasn’t kidding yesterday when I mentioned how tedious the palace and palace life can be, particularly when you’re being watched like a hawk. I’m glad I came for Stefan’s christening — my God am I glad I came — but frankly? It’s boring.
Aurora’s made it slightly less boring, of course, but right now I’ve been drafted at the last minute to give two visiting dignitaries from Inner Mongolia a tour of the grounds and gardens, and it’s dreadful. I’m doing it for Grayson, and because I’m well aware that as the prince of a neighboring kingdom, there are certain duties that come along with a royal rank, but I’d rather be nearly anywhere else.
Like between Aurora’s thighs again, for instance. I’ve already replayed last night in my head about a million times, thought about what I’m going to do to her tonight, her naked body spread below me, willing, wet, and waiting.
I think I’ll start by having her kneel. I like it when she’s naked and I’m not, when I can let my eyes feast on her perfect body, her big eyes looking up at me as she slowly opens her mouth for my cock, my hand fastened in her hair.
Her warm, wet mouth stretched wide as she takes me in, eyes watering. What it would feel like as Aurora relaxes her throat and—
“What is this, please?” the interpreter asks, holding one hand out at an ancient-looking wooden gazebo, thorny roses crawling up the sides.
It’s a fucking gazebo, I think. Who cares?
“I believe that’s the commemorative gazebo built by Edward IV, two hundred years ago, when he successfully fought off the Montessian invaders at Trolong Pass,” I say.
I know that there is a commemorative gazebo around here somewhere. Is it this one? Who knows.
The interpreter passes this possibly-true information along to the visiting dignitaries. They all stand there for a moment, considering the gazebo, their faces serious.
The whole tour of the grounds and gardens have been exactly like this: long periods of silence while my mind wanders to the filthy things I’d much rather be doing to Aurora, they ask another question, repeat.
They say something to the interpreter. The interpreter thinks for a moment, because as I understand it, our languages are pretty different.
“They say it’s lovely and a fitting monument,” he tells me.
Great.
We continue on like that for what seems like days, until we’re finally within sight of the palace again, and I’m praying that they won’t ask for a tour of the art collections or some similar bullshit.
Then, as I’m saying something about the particular rose bushes they’re gawking at, I see a head of flaming hair on the other side, and my heart jumps in my chest.
My dick also jumps. She has that effect on me.
“And these are, uh, painted blood roses,” I say, no longer paying the visitors any mind at all, simply tossing words together. “They’re quite rare and difficult to grow.”
Again, probably true.
On the other side of the roses, Aurora’s head turns toward me. I can barely see her over the bushes, but I try to look around them, my heart thumping in my chest.
She’s alone. If I could ditch these visitors, we could go back to the gazebo, or even somewhere in the palace, and I could show her what I’ve been thinking about all day...
The interpreter clears his throat loudly, like he’s been trying to get my attention.
“Yes?” I ask.
“They would like to know whether these are grown from the seeds at the renowned seed depository in Oslo, or whether they’re an heirloom variety...”
The question goes on, but Aurora’s coming around the rose bushes, and in seconds, she appears on the path in front of me. She’s facing away, wearing a long-sleeved dress, stockings, and a coat, but the shape of her body underneath all that still makes the blood rush to my dick.
“The seed depository,” I say, simply echoing the first thing he said.
Aurora glances over her shoulder, her face beautiful and innocent and open, cheeks and lips red in the cold.
I know how to warm her up, I think, cock getting harder.
And best of all, she’s alone.
The interpreter turns back to the visitors, and starts saying something. Aurora meanders down the path, all my attention on her, looking over her shoulder at me one more time.
The message is clear as fucking day. She can’t wait until tonight, either, and it doesn’t matter that I’m about to ditch some important people.
“And that’s the tour of Naralta Palace,” I say, not even looking at the visitors. “The royal family is so glad you could make it, an honor to meet you, it’s been lovely.”
I duck down a narrow path, away from the guests as the interpreter sputters, voices rising in mild confusion. But’s pretty fucking hard to get lost here — head toward the giant building, you’ll get to the palace.
Silently, I pace along an empty path, watching Aurora through the bushes until I can sneak through, out of sight of everyone else, and I grab her arm.
“Oh!” she exclaims softly as I pull her in, instantly covering her mouth with mine. Even though it’s barely been twelve hours, I want her again, need to claim her.
“Declan,” she breathes when I pull back, her lips puffy from the force of our kiss.
“You were looking for me,” I growl, running a thumb along her chin. “Well, you found me, Princess, and I’ve got everything you want.”
I press my hand into her lower back, pushing her hips against my rock-hard cock, and Aurora bites her lip, alarmed. I don’t care that we’re pretty much in public, or that we could be discovered by anyone strolling through the grounds right now.
I want her. I need her, and I’ve got half a mind to push her to her knees and take her, right here. I bend my head to capture her lips again, but instead she speaks.
“It’s Grayson,” she says, one of the few things she could say to mak
e me stop.
“What about him?” I ask.
“I’m afraid he knows,” she whispers. “This morning, after breakfast, he...”
Suddenly, I hear voices coming up the path: male, several of them, and they’re walking purposefully. Even if I don’t recognize them by voice, I’m not chancing Aurora being discovered here with me.
“Meet me in the gazebo,” I say, pointing. “Tell me there.”
Aurora nods, and we leave the bush onto different paths.
Chapter Nineteen
Aurora
After a bit of chit-chat and polite smiling at my father’s advisors, and after nearly having a heart attack because of how close they came to finding me with Declan, I melt away into the gardens, and make my way to the gazebo.
It’s not technically a gazebo, because its enclosed instead of open for some reason that I can never remember, but it’s gazebo shaped. I push the door open slowly, so it doesn’t make a sound, and close it behind myself.
“Dec—” I ask, but before I can even get his name out of my mouth he’s on me again, crushing his lips against mine, so hard I think I might bruise.
I groan, even though I try to bite back the noise, and Declan instantly reaches up my skirt and squeezes my ass in appreciation, hoisting my legs around his waist.
“You couldn’t wait either, could you?” he murmurs into my ear.
Already he’s tugging my tights down, slipping his hand inside.
“That’s not why—”
His fingers push underneath my lace panties, the wetness beneath betraying me.
“Liar,” he says, his voice a rough, needy whisper. “You want to know what happens when you lie to me, Princess?”
As he says it he strokes my clit lightly, his touch teasing, spreading my wetness all around. I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning, remembering the way I licked my own juices from his fingers last night.
I can’t believe I did that.
And I can’t believe I liked it.
“Do you fuck me in this gazebo?” I whisper, feeling impossibly brave.
He chuckles.
“Close,” he says, and takes his hand from my panties.
He holds it to my lips again, and this time, I know just what to do. I open my mouth greedily and he pushes them in as I suck, swirling my tongue around his thick fingers, lapping up every drop of my own salty-sweet juices.
With his other hand, he reaches down, unzips his pants. Automatically I reach for him, desire flooding through my body at the mere thought of his thick member in my fist one more time.
But instead, Declan takes his fingers out of my mouth and grabs my wrist.
“No,” he says, his smile and eyes absolutely wicked.
“I can’t touch?” I whisper. “Please?”
I’m pulsing with desire, heat flowing through my core like a river of lava because I need him again, need to feel him inside me, rubbing on exactly all the right places while I moan his name.
His hand locks in my hair, and I gasp, my head going back slightly. He kisses me one more time, this one even harder, rougher, needier.
“Not with your hands,” he whispers, and pushes me to my knees.
I go instantly, willingly, the wooden floor of the gazebo rough below my knees. The huge, rounded head of his cock is staring me in the face, and in the dim light I can just barely see a single shining drop of precum gathered at the tip.
I’ve never done this before, of course, and my stomach nearly explodes with butterflies.
What if I bite him? What if it doesn’t fit? What if I don’t do it right, and...
“Open up, Princess,” he murmurs, and I obey.
The moment I do, he pushes my open lips forward, onto the tip, and my mouth engulfs him as he fills me up, velvety and firm. Above me, Declan groans quietly, and I anchor my hands on his hips, sucking greedily on him.
After a moment, he pulls my head back by the hair, drawing my lips back over the head of his cock to the very tip, my tongue still exploring him. He pushes me back down, slowly this time, and I give in completely to his control.
I swirl my tongue around the tip of Declan’s cock, tasting his salty precum. I suck hard on him, take him into my mouth as far as I can, my tongue on the underside, and I listen to his groans as he pushes me harder and harder, his cock invading my mouth.
My eyes sting, and I can feel tears start to form as Declan’s hand tightens even in more in my hair, as he thrusts even further into my mouth, pushing at the opening to my throat.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I open my eyes, looking up as Declan thrusts his cock into my mouth again. Two tears make their way down my face, but I suck as hard as I can, tongue swirling.
I feel dirty right now, used, on my knees in front of this man, totally under his control. But I’m also incredibly wet right now, even more turned on than I was before, and every time he moves my head down his thick shaft, it just makes me wetter.
“Aurora,” he says, still looking at me, my lips slowly sliding down his shaft. “Relax.”
I blink at him, more tears running down my face, not understanding.
But then the tip of his cock nudges at the entrance of my throat, insistently. His hand tightens in my hair, and then I understand.
I force my throat to relax, and Declan groans quietly, puts his other hand on the wall in front of him.
“Relax, Aurora,” he whispers again. “God, it feels so good when you let me—”
Suddenly the head of his cock pops through, into my throat, and Declan grunts through his teeth.
“Jesus fucking christ, Aurora,” he gasps, looking down at me.
I’m wide-eyed, tears streaming down my face, his hand in my hair.
Impossibly aroused.
“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy this is?” he hisses, like he can barely control himself. “Watching you take my whole cock, on your knees?”
I can’t respond, can only push my lips down even further, until my nose is in the short, tiny hairs at the base of his cock. Declan’s still standing, grunting for breath for a long moment before he finally pulls me back, gasping.
I suck in a deep breath even as I slurp his cock from my mouth, panting for breath even as I lick every inch of his long, thick cock as he pulls it from my mouth, sucking hard at the tip before he pushes it back into my mouth.
This time I know what to do, and I look up at Declan, eyes streaming, and take him down my throat.
He groans again, his hand in my hair shoving me against him until my nose is pressed to his belly, finally pulls back when I need to breathe, pushes his cock into me again as he groans and moans, clearly on the edge.
It’s driving me wild, knowing that I’m the one doing this to him, knowing that it’s me making Declan this hard, this uncontrolled. I gulp him down greedily, silently begging him with my eyes to let me swallow him when he comes. He’s half-curled over me, my back against the wall as he leans against it, desperately fucking my mouth like his life depends on it.
“Swallow it,” he finally growls, pushing his cock down my throat even more roughly than before, my pussy pounding with excitement. “I’m gonna come down your throat, Princess, and you’re going to—”
I push him even deeper, even further. Declan groans even more loudly and then his cock is pulsing in my mouth, his seed rushing down my throat.
I swallow him convulsively, wanting to get every single drop that he’s got to give me as he bucks and thrusts into my mouth, more out of control than I’ve ever seen him.
And it was me. I did this to Declan, I made him feel this way.
“God,” he finally whispers. “Jesus, Aurora, you’re going to get me in bad trouble someday.”
I swallow one more time, and his whole body jerks. Slowly, he pulls his cock out of my mouth, inch by inch.
“But first, clean me up,” he whispers, but I’m already doing it. My tongue is going over every square inch of his slowly-softening cock, licking up a comb
ination of my saliva and his semen, until the whole huge monster is perfectly clean.
“Stand up,” he says, tucking himself back into his pants.
I obey, watching the zipper of his pants go up with a hollow ache between my legs. Even though I know he just came, I was hoping for something more, too.
But before I can say anything, I’m back against the wall again, Declan’s mouth on mine. He shoves my skirt above my waist, tugs my tights down so I’m bare-assed against the rough wood, his fingers already on my dripping wet slit.
“Is sucking my cock what made you this wet?” he murmurs.
I nod, and he pushes two fingers inside me, instantly hitting the sensitive spot along my front wall.
“Say it,” he growls.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Abruptly, he takes his hand away and pulls me from the wall. My tights are still around my thighs, but before I know what’s happening I’m bent over a crate in the middle of the gazebo, my face against the bare wood, my skirt bunched around my waist, my ass in the air.
“Good,” he says. “Because every part of your body is mine, Princess. Your mouth, your clit...”
He pushes one thumb over my clit, making all my nerves sizzle with pleasure.
“Your tight little pussy is mine,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers inside me.
I gasp, squeezing him reflexively, wanting more.
“Your virgin asshole is mine,” he murmurs, and then touches something warm and flexible to it.
He’s fingering my ass, I think, my whole body tensing up at once with the strange sensation.
No.
That’s not his finger.
I’m horrified. I can’t believe that Declan is even thinking about my ass, let alone licking it right now, but...
...It feels good. It’s dirty, filthy, and we shouldn’t be doing it in a private bedroom, let alone this gazebo, but I think I like it.