Waking His Princess_A Sleeping Beauty Romance

by Parker Grey

  “Stop,” I whisper. “Someone’s coming.”

  “They won’t be the only one.”

  I blink at him for a few seconds, and then I understand the entendre and I blush even harder. The voices get closer, and I can tell that they’re just around a bend in the path, but Leo still doesn’t stop, his finger surprisingly rough but still milking pleasure out of me, even here, now.

  “Leo,” I whimper.

  He finally stops, and then in a split second he’s grabbed me by the hand, nearly pulling me off my feet, and he’s pulling me through a gap in some bushes, holding the thorns back while I pass through just as the voices get louder, clearer, and I can finally hear what they’re saying.

  “I think it’s quite a fascinating proposition,” one says, and I hold my breath.

  It’s Count von Messer, one of my father’s closest advisors.

  “Fascinating, yes, but it might also be unwise,” cautions another voice, this one belonging to the Earl of Strathem, another of my father’s right-hand men.

  Leo and I are in a small grassy area between two rows of bushes, and we’re out of sight but we’re not exactly hidden. If we do anything or make any noise, they’ll hear us for sure, and they’re walking with excruciating slowness.

  “I think if the right provisions were made in the tariff, then we could...”

  Leo stands behind me, his hands on my shoulders, and he bites my ear.

  I gasp as a thrill runs through my body, nipples stiffening instantly.

  The conversation beyond the bushes stops for a moment.

  “Did you hear something?” the Count asks.

  “There are stray cats who wander the gardens at night,” the Earl says, dismissively. “As I was saying...”

  Leo’s tongue runs along the shell of my ear, and I bite my lip, forcing myself not to make any noise as his hand slithers down my body, over one hard nipple, and to the place where my hip meets my thigh.

  “Better stay still and not make any noise,” he growls, his voice barely registering.

  I could leave. I know I could leave. He’s not even holding me, I’m here completely of my own volition, letting this wild man touch me however he wants.

  Hell, I don’t even have to leave. I just have to scream and this is over, but I don’t. I lean my head back against his thick, strong shoulder and sigh as he pulls the long skirt of my gown up to my waist, then slides his hand between my legs.

  My legs turn to jelly almost instantly, and Leo has to wrap his arm around my chest to keep me upright as his thick, rough fingers part my lower lips roughly, slick and dripping with my juices. He strokes me slowly, barely touching me, teasing me.

  I think my father’s advisors have stopped walking and are just standing beyond the hedge. They haven’t moved in long, long seconds, simply debating some point of economics.

  “That could encourage trade, but might encourage industry to move...”

  “Most of our neighboring nations have similar provisions in place...”

  Leo’s fingers swipe along my drooling seam and then finally find the sensitive button of my clit. My whole body jolts as he does, though I manage not to make any noise as he does it again and again, teasing me for a few moments, then stopping.

  I’m fully leaning back against his hard, thick body. It’s taking everything I have not to moan out loud, whimper, or sigh, because even though this is risky and dangerous, I’ve never wanted anything more.

  Slowly, he circles my clit faster and faster, his fingers moving harder and harder. I’m in the throes of reverie, toes curling in my shoes. I can barely stay upright, and I’m arching my back against him, his thick, rock-hard erection pressing urgently between my buttocks.

  He’s completely and utterly in control, so in control that he doesn’t even have to keep me there physically.

  And I like it. I like it and I want more, I want him to push me to my hands and knees right now, grab my hair, and plunge himself into me hard and deep and with no mercy.

  I want it so bad I can feel my juices running down the inside of my leg and my breath hitches in my throat.

  “Come quietly,” Leo whispers, his voice so low I think I might be imagining it. “Like a good girl.”

  His fingers slide over my clit one more time, and that’s all it takes for the pleasure to break over me like a waterfall, rivulets of pleasure running through my body, on the inside of my skin, as every muscle jolts and jerks again and again.

  He doesn’t stop until I’m completely finished, gasping for breath, my body trembling against him, his arm still holding me tight. Leo keeps stroking me softly after I’ve come, dipping his fingers between my soaked lips, and even though I just finished I desperately want him to push inside me, stroke my sensitive inner wall while I moan.

  “I disagree that the wider economic landscape would be so affected...” I hear the Earl say, and swallow hard.

  I’d nearly forgotten that they were there, and that I can’t imagine what would happen if my ultra-strict father’s two closest advisors found his middle daughter in the bushes with Prince Leo of all people, her dress around her hips.

  “Frankly, the only way to know what would happen is...” the Count answers, his voice fainter.

  I don’t move, even though Leo keeps stroking me, teasing me, almost sliding his fingers into my tight entrance but then moving away. Slowly, I hear their footsteps move off, and finally, Leo stops, taking his hand out of my panties.

  “Do you like it when I make you come?” he growls, and I turn my head.

  He licks his fingers off, one by one, locking eyes with me as he does.

  Chapter Eight

  Leo

  Princess Josephine is fucking delicious. I’ve thought a thousand times about tasting her sweet nectar, about licking and tongue-fucking her until she came, but it’s even better than I thought it could be.

  Fuck, I didn’t even eat her out. I’m just licking her juices from my fingers while she watches, still so fucking hard I think my cock could break a cinderblock in half.

  “Answer me, Princess,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” she says, her voice barely audible.

  I turn her around and kiss her hard. I know I taste like her but I want her to taste herself on my lips, to know how much I like devouring her.

  This might be the first time, but it won’t be the last.

  “Good,” I say. “Because I’ve got every intention of doing it again and again. Princess, I’m going to make you come in ways you’ve never even thought of.”

  I swallow hard, trying to keep the darkness inside in check.

  Just because she let you get her off in the garden doesn’t mean she’ll like anything else, I remind myself.

  Go slow. You have to go slow, because sweet Josephine doesn’t deserve to experience it all at once.

  But now she’s looking at me again, her eyes wide and innocent but with that unnameable hunger deep inside, the spark that catches something inside me and burns my body from the inside out.

  She didn’t have to do any of this. She didn’t have to let me kiss her, touch her, make her come while two people stood just feet away.

  But she did. She did and she liked it, her juices flowing over my fingers and down her legs, her body trembling and jerking as she came hard, and now I crave her even more.

  Princess Josephine runs one hand down my chest, her hand small and delicate and gentle, sliding between two buttons on my shirt, but I catch her wrist.

  “Not now,” I tell her, still keeping my voice low. “Now you go back to your bedchamber.”

  “But you didn’t—“

  “Go,” I tell her, and step around her to open the bushes for her, holding back the sharp thorns and branches.

  Reluctantly, the princess — my princess — steps through, back onto the moonlit path. She takes a deep breath, then finally seems to collect herself, looking around like she’s been dreaming.

  “It was lovely to run into you, Prince Leo,” she finall
y says, and curtsies neatly.

  “Likewise, a pleasure,” I say, and bow.

  Just before we walk in opposite directions, our eyes lock.

  And I swear my sweet, innocent princess is smiling.

  The second I’m through the door of my chambers, I’ve got my cock out and in my hand, and I lean back against the shut door as I stroke it.

  Jesus, it’s a relief. It’s not what I want, but it’s a fucking relief all the same.

  I can’t believe she was there, willing, ready and so wet for me and I didn’t do anything about it. I could have bent Princess Josephine over and fucked her hard behind those bushes, while her father’s men droned on about economics on the other side, and I didn’t.

  I’ve been with dozens of women. My reputation as the prince who’s never left his castle? Not true. All it takes is the bare minimum of a disguise — a hat, some glasses — and I’d hit the city. Women flock to me, practically falling over each other to sit in my lap, touch my scar. I’ve gotten blowjobs in nearly every bar bathroom back in Szegravia.

  But all I did was get Josephine off.

  I stroke myself harder, my thick cock filling my hand. It’s horrified more than one potential lay because of its size, but it’s delighted way, way more.

  I sigh explosively, the fire gathering in my lower belly. More than anything I need to sink my monster into my princess, feel her tight, hot channel around me. Listen to her moan with pleasure as I fill her slowly, the first man to ever be inside her

  The only man to ever be inside her, one hand in her hair as I fuck her deep, finding that perfect spot that makes her scream my name as she submits to me completely, her tight little cunt spasming around my shaft as she comes—

  I pump my fist one more time and then I come with a growl, cum arcing halfway across the room and landing on a throw rug as I gasp, my cock spurting again and again.

  When it’s over, I lean my head back against the door. I know the relief is only temporary, and I’ll wake up hard as a rock tomorrow morning, dreaming of her soft, tight body under mine.

  But for now, at least I can sleep.

  The next morning, I’m informed by young man in palace livery that King Edward and Queen Carolina wish to have breakfast with me. I’m disappointed, because I was looking forward to seeing Josephine for breakfast, but it’s not as if I can refuse her parents.

  Particularly when they’re the King and Queen.

  I meet them in their private dining room, a sunlit space with its own kitchen that overlooks the garden.

  As I walk in, I can’t help but look for the spot where I was last night, and something tightens in my stomach, even as I think about Josephine, beautiful in the throes of ecstasy, her body so tight against my cock that it was nearly torture.

  All while her father’s advisors stood five feet away.

  “Your Majesties,” I say, glancing at the gardens one more time.

  Both of them nod politely, and the King gestures at an empty chair, so I sit.

  Be on your best fucking behavior, I tell myself. Use the right fucking fork and the right fucking knife, you brute.

  A servant comes by and deposits a china teacup at my elbow, and I pick it up, sipping as delicately as I can, even though it looks comical in my thick, scarred hands.

  “Prince Leopold, I’ll cut right to the chase,” the King says. “You’re here because you’ve expressed an interest in marrying my daughter Josephine.”

  “Yes,” I say, forcing my voice to its politest tones.

  “We believe that a match between our countries could be quite advantageous,” he goes on. “Your father and mother, the King and Queen of Szegravia, have been close allies of ours for years. When the crown princess died, it shook us all deeply.”

  I swallow hard as something black and ugly begins to blossom inside me. I don’t think about my older sister often. Not any more, at least. God knows I used to think about it almost constantly.

  “Thank you,” I say. “It was truly an ordeal.”

  They have no fucking clue. Nadia’s death was only the beginning of it, because after the funeral was finished, after the mourning period was over, my parents were still broken people.

  And me? I was the target for more than a decade’s worth of speculation.

  I was ten when it happened. A child. Not that it mattered to any of the wolves, jackals, and vultures that spread the rumors afterward.

  “And we’re sorry for what you’ve gone through since then,” Queen Carolina says, her voice soft and gentle. For a moment, I’m amazed at how much Josephine sounds like her.

  “Thank you,” I say again. I know I’ve learned a thousand ways to say thank you in my life, but I can’t think of any others right now.

  “We would be pleased for you to marry Josephine, is what we’re getting at,” the King says.

  The knot in my chest unravels a little.

  “But we would never force our daughter to marry someone against her will,” the Queen says. “And... I’m afraid that Josephine doesn’t know your family like we do.”

  I swallow tea.

  “Does she believe the rumors?” I ask.

  She can’t believe them that much, I think, flashing back to last night for the thousandth time.

  “I think Josephine is uncertain,” Queen Carolina says. “And to that end, we’d like for you to spend some time with her today.”

  I nearly laugh in her face.

  That’s it? That’s all?

  I thought they were going to tell me we’d been caught last night and send me home packing. I thought I’d be stuck stealing my princess away in the dead of night instead of marrying her in a full state ceremony.

  But no. They want us to go on a date.

  “I’d be delighted and honored,” I say, taking another sip of my tea like a goddamn fancy gentleman.

  Chapter Nine

  Josephine

  Prince Leo picks up a finger sandwich. His back is perfectly rigid, and he looks at it like it’s suspicious, some sort of strange, exotic food.

  Then he takes a single, dainty, careful bite. It looks completely ridiculous, because he’s huge and the sandwich is so tiny, but it’s oddly sweet.

  I know he’s only here, trying to be polite and civilized, because of me, and because we’ve got two lunch attendants right now, watching us.

  “These are very good,” he growls.

  “I’ll give your compliments to the chef,” I say.

  When I told my parents that I needed to spend more time with Prince Leo, this wasn’t exactly what I meant, being watched by the staff while we eat finger sandwiches. But it’s better than nothing, and no matter what my body is telling me right now, we need to have conversations once in a while.

  Though admittedly, just staring at his hands and knowing what they can do has me wet.

  And I can’t stop fantasizing about him pushing me down on this table. Commanding me to bend over for him, his thick monstrous cock nudging against my slick, wet opening.

  I want him to distraction, and I’ve never wanted anyone before.

  “This game preserve is quite nice,” he says, conversationally. “What sort of game do you hunt here?”

  “Oh, I don’t hunt,” I say, laughing a little. “In fact, hardly anyone does any more. There are some deer and maybe a flock of pheasants, but it’s been a long time since anyone actually shot one.”

  He lifts one eyebrow, leaning forward slightly.

  “Why?” he asks.

  I shrug.

  “It seems a little uncivilized,” I say. “Unsporting, maybe? To keep nearly-tame animals on your land and then shoot them for fun.”

  “I see,” he says.

  “Does Szegravia still have the game preserve?” I ask.

  “It’s also in disuse,” he says. “Though we’ve not kept up the paths or the buildings like you have. I’m afraid it’s gone back to nature, nothing but wilderness. Every few years we have to hack it back before it overruns the castle.”


  I frown slightly, looking down at the table, then turn my head to the waiter, standing attentively at the end of the table.

  “I think we’re ready for dessert now, please,” I say.

  He nods professionally, then walks away. We’re in a building that was once a greenhouse, used to grow flowers and vegetables, though now it’s simply a pleasant place to spend an afternoon.

  “I’d rather have you for dessert, Princess,” Leo growls once the man is gone.

  I blush bright red. Even though I knew what would happen, and even though all day he’s been whispering filthy things to me whenever we’re out of the attendants’ earshot, I can’t help but have this reaction.

  “You’re meant to be proving yourself to me as a royal gentleman,” I murmur.

  He smiles, and it’s almost feral.

  “I’ve been the perfect gentleman where it counts,” he says, a half-smile creeping over his face. “Princess, all day I’ve been behaving myself impeccably, if I may say so.”

  I look down at the table. It’s true. When Prince Leo wants to be, he’s literally everything I could wish for in a prince: handsome, charming, perfectly mannered. He even threw his jacket over a mud puddle that was in my path this morning.

  But I’ve still got this lingering, nagging sense of doubt. Leo in person is so different from the Leo of rumor and conjecture that I’ve heard about, again and again.

  There’s no possible way he could be the monster he’s alleged to be, right? He’s a little uncouth, not a killer.

  I play with a fork on the table, rotating it between my fingers hesitantly. I know that I just need to ask, but I don’t know how to form the words.

  “You’re still afraid of me,” he says simply, and I look up at him, into his scarred face, his deep, beautiful eyes.

  “No,” I say, and I’m not lying. “I was. I’m not now, but…”

  I take a deep breath.

  “I’ve heard things and I need to know the truth,” I tell him.

  We’re both silent for a moment, and the servant standing at the end of the table shifts uncomfortably. I dismiss him with a nod of my head, and he disappears through a door into the kitchen.