My heart almost stops. Prince Brandon is on his way? I leap to my feet and scurry to the standing, cracked mirror in the corner of my room. I stare at myself. My hair is matted and my gaunt, puffy-eyed face is blotchy. My rags hang on my bones. In a word, I look terrible. I hastily smooth my hair and wipe away my tears, but nothing can disguise my pathetic state of being. An impatient Katrina shouts out my name again. With Gucci trailing behind me, I trudge downstairs.
My eyes grow wide. Katrina has all but emptied her walk-in closet. Glittery jewel-colored gowns are strewn everywhere—on couches, chairs, tables, and more. She tosses them about as if they’re confetti.
“Oh, Mommy, I don’t know what to wear. I hate being seen in the same thing twice!”
Nearby Enid surveys Katrina’s choices. “Darling, what about the coral gown you wore to the ball. It was divine. And for sure, The Prince will recognize you in it.”
Katrina scrunches her face. “I had it sent to the dry cleaner. Thanks to some fat whore, I took a tumble on the dance floor.”
For the first time in ages, I inwardly smile at the memory of Prince Brandon shoving her out of the way. She shoots me a scathing look.
“Zoella, I need a new dress immediately! I want you to go to Barneys right this very minute!”
“B-but…” Oh no! If I go, I’ll lose my chance to see The Prince. That’s all I want…the chance to see His Gorgeousness once again. I desperately search for an excuse. “But the store doesn’t open for another two hours.”
“That’s exactly the point. I want you to beat rush hour traffic and be there when the doors open. I’ll arrange for my personal shopper to meet you. And besides, I don’t want you around when The Prince arrives.” She casts her venomous eyes down at Gucci. “Oh, and you can take that mangy mutt with you. The last thing I want is for him to bite Brandon.”
Gucci growls at her. My heart sinks. Scooping up the little dog, I make a beeline for the front door. The roar of a motor and blasting horns stop me dead in my tracks. Spooked, Gucci jumps out of my arms and scoots away. A loud knock on the door follows.
“Open up!” bellows an unfamiliar voice. “His Royal Highness, Prince Brandon, requests an entrance.”
My heart pounds in anticipation. Oh my goodness! The Prince is here!
Katrina screams in a panic. “Zoella, get your fat ass to the front door. But don’t let The Prince in until I change into something appropriate. Stall him.” Frenzy-eyed, she turns to her mother. “Mommy, help me!”
Enid scowls at me. “Zoella, what the hell are you waiting for? Go! Chop chop!” A double clap of her bony hands accompanies her last words.
My heart racing, I dash to the front door and open it slowly. My heart practically beats out of my chest. Standing before me on a rolled out red carpet is his Royal Gorgeousness dressed in his royal finery. A magnificent tux that’s tailored to his inhumanly perfect body and complemented by his signature regal purple bowtie. On the street, an entourage of black limos is lined up behind his official car—a gleaming white Aston Martin convertible.
His violet eyes, two glistening jewels, meet mine. Neither of us can speak. Sparks fill my vision and my ears. I wonder if he can hear and see them too. That dazzling smile curls up the corners of his luscious lips, and he breaks the silence.
“Hi, do you live here?”
I clear my throat. Brain to voice, come in please. “I-I’m just a servant here. This house used to be my papa’s, but now it belongs to my stepmother and her daughter.”
He calls out to one of his entourage. “Niall, the shoe please.”
At his command, a tall wiry man delivers the shoe on a purple velvet cushion. I inwardly gasp. It’s the sparkling glass slipper I lost when I ran away from him at the palace.
“I am looking for the woman whose foot fits this shoe. If the shoe fits, something else will too. There’s only one woman in the entire kingdom made for me.”
Hot tingles all but consume me. Flushed, I glance down at my ratty sneaker-clad feet. To my astonishment, he tilts up my head by pressing his thumb under my chin. At his tender touch, I quiver with desire and lust.
His gaze holds me fierce. “Are you going to let me in?”
In my head, I spread my legs wide and offer him the entrance to my pussy. I so long to have his royal cock inside me and to have his body on mine.
Before I can get my mouth to move, Katrina’s sharp voice pierces my ears.
“Oh, Your Highness. I’m so glad you’re here. You’ve come to the right place,” she says breathily, joining us at the front door. She’s dolled up in a bright yellow sequined gown that could light up the sky and a pair of matching stilettos. With her platinum hair cascading over her shoulders, the tall willowy blonde looks stunning. Frumpy me pales in comparison and a cloud of despair sweeps over me. I don’t stand a chance with Prince Brandon.
She eyes the glass slipper. “Oh, Princey-Poo, did you bring that for me?”
“It belongs to the woman whose pussy fits my cock. I’m having every woman in Lalaland try it on. Whoever it fits will be my princess bride.”
Katrina’s feline green eyes light up. “What are we waiting for?” She shoots me a look that could kill. “Get lost, Zo-ey.”
“Zoey?” The Prince repeats.
Before he can say another word, I do as I’m told. With a heavy heart, I retreat to my quarters. Little Gucci follows me.
I slump down on my rickety bed and bury my face in my hands. In no time, my palms are soaked from a deluge of tears. My chest heaves and my sobs sound in my ears. Beautiful Prince Brandon—the love of my life—will never be mine.
Only the sound of Gucci barking madly brings me out of my misery. I part my hands and glance down. There he is before me with the other glass slipper dangling from his mouth. It’s one of his favorite toys. He drops it at my feet and then barks again at me. Woof! Woof! Woof! He’s trying to communicate with me.
“What is it, little boy?” I sniffle.
Wagging his fuzzy tail, he picks up the shoe again in his mouth and runs toward the door to my chamber. With his front paw, he scratches at the slab of wood. I get it. He wants me to open it and follow him.
As I turn the knob, I hear Katrina screech. “Zo-eeeeee! Get your ugly face down here immediately. I need you!”
I wonder what my evil stepsister wants as I wind down the stairs with Gucci trailing closely behind me.
“It’s about time you got here,” she snaps as I set foot in the living room.
“Push harder!” screams her mother, rolling her eyes.
“I can’t!” grunts Katrina.
I have to bite down on my bottom lip to contain my laughter. Katrina is trying to squeeze her size nine foot into my size six shoe. No matter how much she tries, she can’t. With each squeeze and grunt, she turns redder than the crimson sole of her Louboutin.
“Zoella, use your hands, for God’s sake, to stretch out the shoe,” she yells.
“Katrina, it’s not going to stretch. It’s made of glass.”
“Glass, my ass. Just do it!”
“Chop chop!” snaps a frustrated Enid.
Having no choice, I oblige. Taking the shoe into my hand, I tug at it. Of course, it doesn’t budge. I need a glassblower. Prince Brandon’s gaze stays on my hands—the same hands that once locked with his and circled his majestic shaft.
“Zoey, your hands are exquisite. Almost magical,” he says.
“Thank you,” I reply softly and then silently thank my beloved late Mama from whom I inherited my long, slender fingers.
The Prince’s glimmering eyes remain on me. “Zoey, why don’t you try on the slipper?”
“What!” shrieks Katrina before I can say a word. “There’s no way that peasant’s skanky foot belongs in that shoe. It’s fit for a Beverly Hills princess like me!”
Brandon ignores her and, to my astonishment, bends down to untie my grungy sneaker. He tugs it off my right foot and flings it. My eyes stay on him as he caresses my sensitive sole, r
ubbing a spot in the center that sends a rush of tingles straight to my sex. There must be a string attached. Then, he reverently kisses the instep. His warm lips on my flesh make me melt. It takes all I have to keep my balance. My bones liquid, I’m falling apart.
“Zoey, your feet are as beautiful as your hands. So soft and tender.” He takes the glass slipper from me before it falls out of my trembling hand. I’m close to swooning.
“Zoey, hold on to me while I slip on the shoe.”
I grasp his powerful bicep as he gingerly slides the sparkling slipper onto my foot. My foot is halfway in it when suddenly a hand snatches the shoe away. Katrina!
“Say goodbye to your future!” she sneers, and on my next breath, she hurls the delicate slipper to the hardwood floor. Smash!
“No!” I cry out. Tears fill my eyes as I watch it splinter into smithereens, the spiky six-inch heel detaching from the sole.
Katrina smiles smugly. “Brandon, you’re wasting your time with this slovenly peon. I’m the one for you. Let’s just get the hell out of here and ride your Aston Martin into the sunset. Mommy will start planning the wedding. I’ll be your Cinderella bride.”
She clutches a stunned Brandon’s arm and yanks him away from me.
“Wait!” With a sharp jerk that sends my evil stepsister flying, he breaks away from her. “Look!”
Craning my neck, I follow his gaze. Oh my God! It’s Gucci, carrying the other slipper in his mouth. He scampers up to us, and before the little dog deposits the shoe, Prince Brandon seizes and beholds it.
“It’s the other slipper!” His eyes, lit with excitement, burn into mine. “I have at last found my princess bride. I just knew it the minute I set my eyes on you. It’s you, Zoey! The woman I’ve dreamt about and searched high and low for.”
“What!” screams a shocked Katrina as he effortlessly slips the stiletto onto my left foot. It fits perfectly. On my next rapid heartbeat, he scoops me up in his strong arms and his lips come crashing down on mine. My tongue finds his, and entwined, they waltz just like they once did at the ball. A sweeping, sensuous dance of love fills the walls of my mouth. Cupping his gorgeous face, I squeeze my eyes shut as I fall deeper into his passionate embrace. I’m seeing stars.
“Mommy, do something!” Katrina whines like a bratty two-year old, but there’s nothing either she or her mother can do. My Prince has come, and I’m never going to lose him. He’s mine. And I’m his. Our mouths stay locked as he carries me out the door.
“Ow, you fucking beast!” I hear Katrina cry out.
Peeking with one eye, I glance her way. HA! Gucci has bitten her, giving the bitch what she deserves. Proudly wagging his tail, the little dog follows us outside. He belongs to The Prince and me now.
When we reach The Prince’s stately car, he finally breaks the kiss and dismisses his entourage. Opening both eyes, I watch the fleet of black limos drive away.
“Are you taking me back to your palace?” I ask between little kisses on his face and neck. He tastes so delicious.
He sets me down on the hood, close to the edge. “Zoey, I can’t wait that long. I’m taking you right here. Right now.” Removing the glass slipper and throwing it into the regal convertible, he simultaneously yanks off my sweats and little lace panties. My sweatshirt and bra are next. He tosses everything to the pavement. I’m totally bared to him in broad daylight. His lust-filled eyes roam down my curvaceous body inch by inch.
“Oh, my sweet Princess, you’re so exquisite. Even more beautiful than I remember.” He gropes my heavy breasts and lifts them to his mouth. His mouth clamps down on my nipples and he sucks them. I’m so aroused a puddle must be pooling on the Aston.
A hand reaches for my pussy, and he caresses it. A soft moan escapes my lips.
“Oh, my beautiful, sexy princess, it feels just like I remember it. So silky and wet.” He finds my clit and rubs it with his thumb. My head arches back in pure ecstasy.
“Don’t stop!” I plead.
“Hold on, baby.” With glazed eyes, I watch as he undoes his pants. His enormous cock springs out as they slide down his long muscular legs. I can’t help but reach for it, wrapping my fingers around the base. It feels like hot pulsing velvet.
“Oh, baby, that feels so fucking good. The perfect fit. Only you. Spread your legs and put it where it belongs.”
He leans into me as I part my thighs at his command and put his mighty crown to my entrance. I’m so soaking wet that he shoves the entirety with all its glory into me on a single thrust, taking me to the hilt. I cry out from the tinge of exquisite pain and then scream with divine pleasure as he begins to fuck me royally. I wrap my legs around his hips as he slides me closer.
“Oh, my Lord! My master! Fuck me hard!” I grip his broad shoulders so not to slip off the car and rock my hips to meet his powerful thrusts. I clench my muscles around his relentless rigid length as he claims me.
“There’s only one way with you, my beautiful princess. You’re mine now. Totally mine. Yes, I’m your Lord. Your master. I’m going to fuck you for eternity. Love you until forever. And give you the happily ever after you’ve always wanted and truly deserved. But tell me, I’m yours.”
“Oh my gorgeous Lord, I’m yours for forever. I’ve never stopped loving you. And will never. Even in death, you will live in my heart. You have my undying love.”
“Jesus, my little princess. You’re making me crazy with your sweet surrender. I’m going to give you an orgasm you’ll never forget. Everyone in the kingdom will hear you cry out my name. But I want you to come with me. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I pant out, unsure if I can, as much as I want to please him and have that incredible experience of oneness. Waves of ecstasy sweep through my body as I gauge his own climax. He’s close, so very close because I can feel his searing length pulsate inside me.
Then, suddenly, he stops pummeling me and after a deep, feral grunt, he roars out my name. It’s more like a wail—the cry of a wild animal that’s been mortally wounded. I don’t think he’s come. I would have felt the explosion and his release. He collapses upon me, his dead weight almost knocking me over. I snap open my eyes and gasp. Hovering over us is Katrina. A wicked, triumphant smile snakes across her face.
“Say goodbye to your Prince Charming!” she snickers.
“What have you done?” A sudden wave of panic washes over me, and then reality stabs me so hard I feel my heart bleed.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!!” My six-inch glass heel is wedged deep in Brandon’s back. An inordinate amount of blood soaks through the fine fabric of his jacket. I watch in horror as she slowly withdraws the sharp, bloodied spike. I immediately put my hand to Brandon’s wound, hoping I can stop the flow of his blood. It’s futile. The warm crimson liquid seeps through my fingers, but I can feel his labored breaths. The small rise and fall of his chest. Oh my God. He’s still alive but barely.
“Oh, my Prince. My Lord. My Master! Please don’t die on me! Please!!! His cock grows limp inside me. All life is ebbing from him. Sobs wrack my body. With my free hand, I fist his silky hair and lift up his head from my breasts. His eyes are open just a sliver, allowing a glint of violet light to slip through the lids. He sees me, and the faintest of smiles curls his lush lips.
“I swore, I would kill for you…and die for you, my sweet princess. Only for you.” His voice is a mere whisper.
“No, No, No! Oh Brandon, my love! Take that back! Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me! You promised you’d love me forever!”
“I…will…love…you…” Each word is a harsh breath. “For—”
Impulsively, as he takes his last breath, I slam my lips onto his, and parting them, I breathe into his mouth. Aren’t kisses in fairy tales magical? The kisses of life?
In my ears, Katrina’s maniacal laugh reverberates. “You pathetic girl. Fairy tales don’t come true. Such stupid urban myths. There’s only an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth. You took him away from me. And now, I’ve taken him away from you.”
She laughs again, more maniacally and louder.
“You wicked bitch!” I sob out. The sequins of her dress blind me.
“You know what they say. Nice girls finish last. Time to say goodbye to your life, you fat slut!”
“NOOOOOOO!!!!” A deafening scream pours out of my mouth as she aims the sharp heel dripping with blood between my eyes. Gucci barks madly, but it’s too late…
Fade to black. In a cold sweat, I blink my eyes open and try to take hold of my bearings. I’m dazed and confused. And sobbing.
“Are you okay, Ms. Hart?” comes an unfamiliar female voice before I can get a grip. How does she know my name?
Reality slaps me across the face at the realization of my real-life unhappily ever after. Still blubbering, I nod. I’m on a plane, heading back to LA. I must have fallen asleep and had a terrifying nightmare. Katrina took Brandon away from me. Destroyed my fairy tale dream. My waking life, however, is far more devastating. Brandon succumbed to her. He chose her over me. And he let me go. I’m bereft of both the job and the man I loved with all my heart and soul. Beautiful memories of Cannes do a slow, sad dance in my head until they’re abruptly curtailed by the email Brandon sent me. With my eidetic memory, I can see the cold-hearted words in my mind as if I’m reading them off a computer screen. I have no choice but to terminate your employment contract effective immediately. He even threatened me with legal action should I ever talk to the media about him. I hit delete, but the bone-crushing words are permanently etched on my brain. I wish I could forget them. And forget him. Delete him from my mind. Rip him out of my heart. My soreness prevents me. I can still feel the sting of his lashes on my ass and the throb of my pussy with the hum of the plane. My clit aches as much as an open wound. I know these sensations will go away, but the ache in my heart will always stay. Brandon Taylor will always be unforgettable. My shoulders heave and my wails grow louder.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” asks the flight attendant again, her eyes narrowing with concern. “Are you having some kind of episode?”
Unforgettable 3 (Hollywood Love Story #3) Page 2