by Frankie Love
I set down my beer, grunt a yes, and walk through the crowded bar toward Iris.
“Hello, Garrick,” she says, smiling and offering me her cheek to kiss. I lean over and brush my lips on her skin—then, unable to restrain myself, I pull her mouth to mine.
She doesn’t pull away; instead, she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me more deeply. Her breasts are pressed against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her waist.
The customers seem to like our royal PDA, because they start whooping and hollering.
When we pull apart, Iris’s face is flushed with the heat pulsing between us. It’s a relief to know our chemistry wasn’t a one-off, and the meltdown from this morning seems long gone.
I didn’t think it was possible for her to be more attractive, but seeing her walk into the bar in a winter coat and sturdy boots only turns me on more.
“You want a drink?” I ask. I need to let her know I’m not going to make her suffer. She wants electricity? Fine, I’ll give her electricity.
I want this marriage to work.
Besides wanting to work her over, I also want to take care of her, want to be a man she can rely on. So I’ll fix up the cabin to her liking if that’s what she needs.
Iris beams at me, and takes my hand. “I would love a drink, Garrick. I thought you’d never ask.”
I lead her to the bar, where Kurt introduces himself.
“So you’re the woman stuck with this bloke?” Kurt cocks his head in my direction.
“I suppose so,” Iris says, grinning. “But you know, I’ve been doing quite a bit of shopping today and, along the way, plenty of people let me know exactly what they thought about my new husband. Seems that you have quite a reputation, Garrick.”
Iris spins on her barstool to face me. I just shake my head, not sure I want to know what she heard.
I order us both beers. “You hungry?”
“Starved.”
I place an order for bratwurst, schnitzel, and hot pretzels. Kurt places two pilsners in front of us.
“Don’t you want to hear the word on the street?” she tempts me.
“All right, all right. So what did you hear?” I steel myself for the hard truth. If she’s been talking to my mother or any of her friends, I don’t think I want to know the details.
“It was actually all good. It sounds like I married a man most people around here find helpful and generous.” She raises her stein of beer and clinks it against mine. After taking a not so dainty sip, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Kurt,” she says. “That’s delicious. Do you brew this yourself?”
I take a hard look at Iris, realizing this girl knows how to turn the charm on anyone. My parents loved her because she got me to come to the reception last night, the city loves her because she shoved cake in my face, and I can’t help but think I could love her, considering the way she rode me all night long.
And also the way she marched into the bar so confidently and kissed me without a second thought.
“We do brew it, right here. It’s nice to know Prince Garrick’s wife appreciates local brew.”
“Well, back home in Elexia we didn’t have beer. Rum punch, that was our brew. Fresh coconuts filled with tar-barreled rum. Trouble with a capital T.” Iris smiles and flashes her bright eyes at him, and I swear to God, Kurt blushes.
Kurt, a man who has sworn off women for over a decade. Kurt, who stands behind this bar with an apron stretched across his beer belly. Smitten with Iris in a matter of minutes.
“Sounds like my kind of party.” Kurt claps his hand against the bar. “You two shouldn’t be here. Go have yourselves a tropical honeymoon in paradise, drinking rum out of coconuts. What I wouldn’t give for that.” He gives Iris a wink before heading back to the kitchen.
“He’s a keeper,” Iris says, watching the kitchen door swing shut behind Kurt.
I nod, appreciating that she immediately warmed to Kurt. I wasn’t sure if my princess would be able to handle a greasy pub. The fact that she isn’t put off by it gives me another reason to see her as something other than the typical royalty I anticipated when my parents told me they’d chosen my bride.
Iris is pretty down to earth. She didn’t show up here wearing designer clothes or carrying fancy luggage. And the fact that she had to come because her father was bankrupt reminds me that she probably isn’t accustomed to the finer things in life.
Which is good, considering what I’ve been offering her is one step up from an outhouse.
She’s still here. She didn’t flee the country or insist on an annulment. She isn’t the high-maintenance girl I pegged her for.
“What?” she asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?’
I shrug, slightly embarrassed with how much I’m thinking about her. “So,” I begin, wanting to change the subject. “You were talking about me around town, is that right?” I lean closer so our shoulders touch.
“Are you fishing for compliments?” Iris smirks.
“Maybe I am. Is that so bad? Because, to be honest, I don’t get too many compliments when I’m around my family. So the idea of my wife liking what she sees, I swear to God it gets me hard just thinking about it.”
“Oh, Prince Garrick has a bruised ego? Not enough attention from his mommy and daddy?” Iris’s eyes raise, her smile widens. Teasing. Trouble.
“I don’t need my parents to make me feel better.”
“Oh?” Iris bites her bottom lip. “And what would make you feel better, husband?”
I shake my head, knowing she’s up to no good. And I’m fucking loving every second of this flirtation. Iris seems to bring out a playful side of me that no one else does. “I know exactly what would make me feel better.”
My mouth is on hers in an instant. She’s hot and charged, and I’m horny as hell. I had a taste of her last night and I want another. And seeing her in those boots and this heavy coat—I can see, in some small way, her concession. No way would she have bought those clothes if she planned on leaving any time soon.
Her mouth parts, and my tongue finds hers. I sink into the kiss, pulling her into my lap, my hand on her waist,
My cock hard as fuck.
“I want you so bad,” I growl in her ear.
“Oh yeah?” she moans, nibbling at my ear in return. “I want you too, Garrick. I keep thinking about last night.” She sighs, her eyes full of desire.
“Princess, I can’t wait.” I take her hand, leading her to the back of the bar. I need to touch her skin, take all of her. “I need you. Now.”
“Garrick, will someone see?” She turns her head, knowing the rest of the bar is watching our every move. Welcome to being a royal fucking couple.
“Do you care if someone sees?”
She smiles, shaking her head and pressing her hand against my chest. “Take me somewhere, Garrick. Let me finish what I didn’t get to do last night.”
I moan, adjusting myself in my pants, and grab her hand. Electricity shoots between us with that simple touch.
I lead her down a stairwell, out of the public eye, and pull her into a bathroom.
17
Locking the door behind us, Garrick flicks on the lights. We’re both breathing heavily, and I can’t seem to keep my hands off him. Seeing him in the bar reminded me just how much I want to be in this man’s presence.
It doesn’t take long before my hands are on his belt buckle, taking it off and whipping the leather to the floor. He has my back against the wall, and it reminds me of the night before, in his childhood bedroom, when he took my virginity. When he made me a woman.
I want that feeling again, that feeling of being wanted and desired, that feeling of being his. And I have it now.
I know it may be incredibly naïve to think that Garrick actually wants me for more than just my body, but in this moment I think being wanted for that might just be enough.
“Oh, Princess, you’re magnificent.” Garrick’s mouth is on mine again, kissing me. His hands run through m
y long hair, the braid untangling under his fingers. Our lips are bruised and swollen as we hungrily devour one another.
His tongue against mine causes my pussy to ache. I clench my thighs together, so horny, so consumed with the idea of him and me—and for a moment, I forget about my ultimatum. About my plan.
I forget the lingerie underneath my clothes, under this big winter coat. The red lacy bra and thong I bought.
I forget about all that, because all I can think about is Garrick’s cock bulging between us. I pull down his pants, my fingers on the waistband of his boxers, ready to inch them over his massive rod. The one I saw last night, the one I felt inside of me last night—but not one I had a chance to lick, to suck.
And maybe I made an ultimatum about what I would give him with my body. But I didn’t make any ultimatums about what I would give him with my mouth.
And with my mouth right now? I plan on opening it as wide as it needs to go, sucking him until he fills my mouth with that seed that he filled my pussy with last night. I want to taste his come and swallow it. I want him, so fucking bad.
“Oh, Princess, don’t tease me,” he says, as I reach my hands into his boxers. I pull them off, my hand wrapping around his length.
“You like that? You like it when I touch you, Prince?”
His head falls back, and a groan escapes his mouth.
I like making him feel this way. I like making him feel so much. Because that’s exactly the way he’s made me feel.
His back is against the wall. With my fingers splayed out on him, I run them over his chiseled abs, then lower, until they land on his bare ass. I squeeze his tight cheeks as I rest on my knees.
“Princess, that feels so fucking good.”
His affirmation is all I need. I take his length with one hand and roll his balls with my other. His cock is so hard, firm and veiny. His tip already dripping with pre-come. I lick the bead of cream away, licking my lips after I swallow.
I raise my eyes, lock them on him. Garrick shakes his head ever so slightly, his cock thrumming with life. The intensity of this act, of this moment, causes the world to become so small. In this moment, it’s just us.
I open my mouth, suddenly nervous. I pause, looking back up at him. “You’ll tell me how to do this, won’t you?”
He nods.
I ask, “Is this right? Is this what you want in my mouth?”
“I want you everywhere. There is no way you could do this wrong. Everything you do is so fucking right.”
My lips tighten around his length, and I fill my mouth with his largeness until the tip hits the back of my throat.
When Garrick moans above me, his hands resting lightly on the crown of my head, it causes my pussy to seep with pleasure. I’m so wet, and that just gets me more excited.
With my nipples tight and my pussy swollen, I begin to suck vigorously. My fingers roll his balls, and I suck him hard. In and out, in and out, my eyes closed, my mouth full. Everything about this moment feels so right.
The more he groans, the tighter his cock becomes, and I can tell that he’s inching toward release.
I pull him out, wanting to lick his balls, suck those, too. I drop one in my mouth and suck it, as my hand wraps around his length and pulls slowly up and down.
I love sucking his balls, rolling them in my mouth, and then I let my tongue lick him again, rolling over his top, and put his tip back in my mouth and suck.
“I’m so fucking close,” Garrick tells me. “I’m going to come.”
It only makes me want to do better.
More.
And so I do.
I suck him until he starts to explode, coating my throat with his milky seed. I swallow him, letting his salty release fill my mouth.
I keep sucking until every last drop is gone, until his thick cock tempers itself. I pull him from my mouth, kissing his length as I do, kissing his tip. I love the way his massive cock looks, love the way it fits in my mouth and fits in my pussy.
Like it was made just for me.
“You taste so good,” I tell him, wiping my mouth again. I don’t want to let go of his cock, even if that sounds insane. It’s just so warm and powerful. It makes me feel like a goddess. Powerful, wanted.
I want to feel like this always.
“I want your pussy,” he tells me. “Your pussy must be aching for me.” He reaches for my hands, helps me stand.
I feel delirious, intoxicated. And I know it wasn’t the beer. It was swallowing his release.
“Let me take you now,” he says.
I blink, wanting this—but then I remember my stipulation. I’m not giving him my pussy unless he moves me out of that shitty shack.
Is that shallow? Probably. But the stupid words are already out of my mouth.
“My pussy does want you,” I say. “But does that mean you’re ready to agree to my ultimatum, as you called it?”
It’s too late to take the words back.
His eyes narrow; his lips curl in confusion.
“Back to that already, are we?” he asks.
I press my lips together, not knowing how to edge my way out of this, wanting him to give me what I want without any strings attached.
I gave him a blowjob because I wanted to. I was completely swept up in the moment. Getting on my knees and submitting to Garrick felt so right, so natural. So hot.
But now he’s looking at me like he has no intention of moving an inch from where he is perched with his opinions, and that makes my head spin in frustration.
A knock on the bathroom door tears us even further apart than we already are, then we became in a matter of seconds.
Garrick pulls up his pants, buckles his belt. We lock eyes.
“We need to discuss these terms,” he says, nodding curtly, before pulling open the door.
18
We head up the stairs and my eyes are on her perfect ass the entire time. I just had the blow job of my life, and come to find out, my wife doesn’t want me to return the favor.
We find our seats on the stools, and Iris eyes me with frustration. Which is bullshit—I’m the one who just got turned away.
Fuck, every time I feel like she and I make an inroad, something comes between us. I need a chance to explain that I’ve come to my fucking senses.
Before I can speak, the kitchen door swings open and Kurt appears. He’s carrying hot pretzels and sausages in his hand, and he drops them before us with a flourish.
“For the princess. I hope the food is to your liking.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be just wonderful, Kurt. It smells delicious.” Iris smiles tightly. I want her to tell me everything she is thinking.
This greasy pub is anything but fine dining, but once again I’m reminded that Iris is gracious and kind to anyone she comes across. I swallow, realizing I don’t have that same skill whatsoever.
Sure, I’m able to get along with people here in the village. But the people at my parents’ castle, the place I need to be putting in more time, paying my dues? I can’t seem to make peace with my royal obligations and my own desire.
And damn, right now my own desires are growing.
Needing to take my mind off my still-hard cock and what it wants to do with Iris, I order another round.
Kurt quickly takes our steins and fills them. He sets them down before our plates of food and then leaves to attend the other customers. The customers still watch Iris and I closely, but I don’t pay them any mind.
Right now, I only have eyes for her.
“You ready to talk about the ultimatum?” I ask.
She exhales, picking up a skewered sausage and taking a bite. Ignoring my question. “This food is really good,” she says. “Do you eat out often?”
“I eat here most days, to be honest. As you saw, our house isn’t exactly set up for cooking.”
With my reference to my one room cabin, I see Iris physically bristle. Reminding her of our place just seems to remind her of the ways I have refused to give in
.
“So that’s the plan then, we’re just going to eat out every day?” The sexual chemistry from the bathroom has dissipated.
“I don’t really know what the plan is, Iris. We just got married yesterday.”
“I know when we got married, Garrick.” Iris rolls her eyes.
I run my hand through my hair. “Damn, Iris, I thought a shopping spree would lighten you up. And I thought, downstairs, that you and I were seeing things eye to eye. But I swear to god you want to get all wound up over nothing.”
“Nothing?” Iris huffs.
“Not nothing,” I amend. Fuck, she might not like my compromise. She’s back to insisting we move out, for good. “Can we just set our differences aside for a moment and enjoy a meal?” I take a deep breath, not wanting to fight.
“Fine. Let’s talk about something less political.” She picks up her beer and chugs in a very un-lady-like manner.
It’s fucking hot as hell, and I realize, as she sets the half-downed beer on the bar, she’s not very happy with the conversation.
I hate that.
I hate that I’ve done any of that to her.
She needs to know that I think she’s amazing in a spirited, don’t mess with me way. In a way that has me reconsidering everything I ever thought about women, about my life.
Why would I want to be a lone ranger when this princess could be my partner in crime?
“Well, Princess, I must say you look really cute in those clothes.”
She gives me a sidelong glance, and a slight smile emerges from the corner of her mouth. We aren’t through here. “Oh yeah?”
“Iris, I mean it. You look fucking fantastic. I know this morning we got off on the wrong foot—”
“Wrong foot?” Her head swivels so fast, her eyes ablaze and locked on mine. She’s not letting me off the hook easily.
And maybe that’s the exact sort of woman I need. A woman who won’t take any bullshit. Who says it like it is.
“Garrick, that was not the wrong foot. That was a full-on fight.”
“Okay,” I say, raising my hands in defeat. “A full-on fight. And I’m sorry for that.”