Dirty Prince

by Vanessa Waltz

  “Good luck with getting me nine more times with everybody staring at us.”

  Traditional Anglefell music plays in the background as the waiters approach with flutes of champagne. It’s all I can do to down the whole thing. The waiters begin serving the first course, which is some sort of soup with shells of pasta and roughly sliced carrots.

  “It’s capon broth. Very traditional.”

  What the fuck is a capon?

  I try it, sipping the golden liquid. Chicken. It tastes just like chicken. We’re barely into the soup when guests begin rattling their silverware against the glasses. Liam puts down his spoon, and butterflies soar as he grabs my chin and kisses me. The crowd roars its approval as I feel like disappearing on the spot.

  The courses fly from my table, arriving one at a time on white porcelain plates. There’s stuffed Cornish hens, steamed cod on a bed of seaweed, and many other local dishes sourced from the sea. It’s all delicious, and then finally Liam stands to cut the cake.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!”

  He pretends to trip over my dress, his hand momentarily squeezing my breast as though to catch his fall.

  “I’m so sorry, love.” And then he drops his voice to a whisper. “Two.”

  “Subtle. Very subtle.”

  I take Liam’s hand as he leads me to the towering, white cake. Beautiful, soft-yellow daises made of fondant cling to the sides of the cake. Then I look at the bride and groom figurines at the top of the cake. The bride has a noticeably large bust.

  “What the hell?”

  Liam grins as the photographer makes his way through the guests. “I told the chef to enhance your bosom a little.”

  “Hilarious.”

  He touches the sculpture. “Three. Four.”

  I snatch his hand away. “That does not count!”

  “Sure it does. It’s a representation of you, so figuratively I’m touching your tits.”

  “Figuratively doesn’t count!”

  “It’s not my problem you didn’t make the rules ironclad.” He rips his hand from my grasp, laughing at my outrage. “Five.”

  “Stop doing that!”

  The guests gather around us, screaming for us to cut the cake. Liam grabs the knife and poses beside me as the photographer takes pictures. The knife slides into the buttercream frosting as he cuts a sizable chunk. He holds a large piece in his fingers.

  Oh no. Not this part.

  Too late. He presses a morsel to my lips, and I open before he can smear cake over my face. My mouth explodes with the rich vanilla-and-lemon flavor, and he keeps pushing the piece in. Something cold tumbles between my cleavage, and I recoil.

  “Oops, sorry. I’ll get it.”

  He reaches into my dress, his fingers sliding between my tits to grab the piece of cake. My skin blazes as he lifts it to screams of laughter and then pops it in his mouth. The glasses tinkle with applause again, and I barely swallow the piece of cake before Liam’s sugary lips descend upon mine again. Blood roars in my ears, my heart still pounding from having the whole reception witness Liam’s hand down my dress. He pulls back only slightly. “That’s easily worth at least three.”

  “No cheating.”

  “Fine. Seven, then. I touched them both.”

  I’m starting to regret this stupid game.

  We sit back down with plates of cake. I poke the sugared daisies with the dessert fork, and one of the petals slides off. Everything about this wedding is perfect. My eyes glaze over with tears and I furiously blink them away.

  “Let’s take a pic for my Instagram.”

  Liam’s phone swings in front of me, and I grab a random glass on the table to lift to my head as he takes a picture. He types in several hundred hashtags: #wifey, #romeoandjuliet, #loveknowsnobounds, #iloveher, #noonecanbreakus, and #newprincess.

  Alcohol slips down my throat like oil as I drain the glass. I can’t believe I’m actually married. This is actually happening.

  The dance floor seems like a perfect opportunity for Liam to win points, but it’s harder than you’d expect with the classical music. He waves over an aide after we open the floor and whispers something in his ear.

  “Is Your Highness serious?”

  “Of course! It’s my wedding.”

  Looking pale, the aide dashes to the DJ in the corner. Oh God.

  I glance at the head table, where the king is still tucking in his slice of cake as Rihanna’s thunderous voice crashes from the speakers. The crowd cheers as Liam gyrates against my body, abandoning all princely decorum to shamelessly grind his cock against my ass. Rihanna’s voice pounds in my chest as he plants hot kisses on my neck. I don’t think I can’t take much more of the crowd’s jeers, or my heart pounding for more of him. I can’t stop thinking of his hands on my naked skin and how his massive cock would feel inside me.

  “Liam, can we get out of here?”

  “I would love to, but I have a game to win.”

  “Fuck the game.”

  He makes a sound of surprise. “Oh Daisy, are you eager to leave?”

  Damn him. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  “It’s been torture all these weeks, hasn’t it? And now that we’re married, it’s finally okay for us to fuck.”

  “It’s more like I’m tired and I want to go.”

  Yeah right.

  “Just admit you want me, and I will forget you’re forfeiting the game.”

  Suddenly I forget why I wanted to win the stupid game.

  “Fine, I’ll say it.”

  “I’m listening.”

  I’ve never seen anyone so pleased with himself.

  “Take me to our room, Dirty Prince. I want every inch of you buried inside me.”

  “That’s a tall request. You think you can handle that much cock?”

  “I know I can.”

  He touches my lips. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

  Then I know he’s remembering my lips crushed against his groin as I swallowed him.

  “Take me to our room.”

  He takes me to our room after a half hour of shaking hands and passing out wedding favors (espresso cups with an elaborate L & D in black lettering).

  The doors slam shut, and Liam’s face transforms. His demeanor shifts as he grabs his shirt collar, ripping open his military jacket and setting his heavy crown aside on the mantelpiece as if it’s a nuisance. He looks darker somehow. Prince Charming, or whatever’s left of him, is gone.

  My heart swells as he takes a couple swift steps forward. I’m ready for this. I want this. I run my fingers on the sharp edges of the crown.

  “No,” he says in a hoarse voice. “Leave it. I’m going to fuck you while you’re wearing it.”

  The jacket falls from his arms. Then his hands are in my hair. I suck in breath as his teeth graze my neck. My skin breaks out into a sweat. We’re going to do this. Oh my God, I’m really going to do this.

  It’s been years. Two, actually.

  Agony suddenly blackens the desire heating my body. Ben. His face flashes in my mind again, and the guilt pours in. I’m starting to resent the memory of him, like it’s some sort of curse hanging over my head wherever I go.

  I have a curse, but there’s a cure. It involves fucking a prince.

  “How are you going to fuck me with this thing on my head? It’ll fall off.”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  The zipper slides down my back as he unzips my dress all the way to my tailbone. I swallow hard as he rolls the sleeves down my shoulders and lets the dress fall. He lifts the crown for a second and puts it back on my head when my neck is free. I wrap my arms around my breasts, trembling from head to foot.

  God, this is awkward.

  I feel him move, and then he kneels at my feet. His fingers singe my skin as he removes my heels. It takes only a second of his touch to want those hands all over my body. I walk out of the dress as Liam stands up slowly.

  His pillowy lips part for a second as he rakes his darkened ga
ze over my body. Even in the shadows, Liam’s good looks are impossible to miss. My heart makes a little clench when his hooded eyes meet mine. His brown hair, though cut short, falls in front of his eyes with a casual sort of elegance that would be impossible to achieve on any other man. I glance at his hand, the one with the wedding band, and my heart does a jump.

  This is my husband.

  He roughly grabs my hips, sliding his fingers over the gray lace panties.

  “You’re shaking.”

  Of course I am. It’s been years since a guy has looked at me naked.

  “I want you, it’s just…”

  I don’t know what it is. I’m scared.

  He seems to guess the truth. “You have no reason to be scared or ashamed when you’re with me.”

  “We have to set some ground rules.”

  “Like?”

  I steel myself. “The arrangement we made was supposed to be strictly—”

  I can’t even think of an appropriate word.

  A playful smile dances on his face. “This arrangement was me giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card, and I agreed because I saw a hot girl in distress without a friend in the whole country. Sometimes the prince in me wakens and does something noble.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure getting into my pants wasn’t part of the equation. This is beside the point. I want this to be purely physical. I don’t want emotions getting involved. We’re friends with benefits, minus the friends.”

  He blinks. “So just two people who fuck?”

  “Just sex. Think you can handle that?”

  “Can I handle meaningless sex? I think so.”

  “A-All right, then.”

  A darkly playful look materializes over his face. “The last time we were alone, you left me standing in the mud with my pants down. You gave me a fantastic blowjob, and then you just left me there. Unfinished.”

  I remember the way his cock looked like a sad flag as I walked away, but it’s not like I didn’t let him come in my mouth.

  “I promised you one blowjob, and that’s what I gave you.”

  “Rule number fifty-seven: Never leave a royal’s cock at full-mast. If that’s not a law, I’m making it one when I’m crowned king.”

  “Good. I’m making a law in the morning stating that royals who demand sex from their subjects get their dicks chopped off immediately.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I can do whatever I want,” I say, throwing his own words back at him.

  “I can. You can’t. You married into the family. It’s different.”

  “Wait, so I don’t actually have any power?”

  He shakes his head. “Your husband has the power,” he says with a smirk in his voice. “And your husband and prince commands you to stop covering those fantastic tits.”

  We’re standing in front of a gilded, floor-length mirror. I see my frightened reflection and Liam’s hot one holding me from behind. He gently tugs my arms.

  “There. Look at how gorgeous… Shit.”

  His grip tightens over my wrists as he pulls my arms back, crossing them over my butt. It pulls back my shoulders, making my tits stand out more. My reflection’s cheeks go pink as Liam’s bares his teeth in a sort of carnal smile. I can’t get over the stupid crown on my head, but he seems to love it. The breath hitches in my chest as he gropes my breasts with his free hand. I watch him do it in the mirror, and if it weren’t for the sensations I would think it was happening to someone else. He grabs one of my nipples in a ruthless pinch, and his mouth closes over my neck, kissing with a bite.

  “Now, I’m going to take my time fucking you, Princess, because I sense you are delicate. You’re going to heed my commands not because I’m the prince, but because you want to. Because servicing my cock is the only thing you care about. Now take your panties off.”

  Oh God what am I doing?

  I watch myself in slow motion as Liam takes my hips and I bend over at the waist, slipping my panties down my legs as I’m overcome with violent shivers. The image in the mirror changes as the girl straightens. The man wraps his arms around her waist. I feel them like heavy weights.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been fucked?”

  I’m fucking naked. In his arms.

  “Um… about two years.”

  “I was right. You are starved of cock. My poor Princess Daisy. We’ll make it right, don’t you worry. I’m going to ruin you for any man after tonight.”

  All the snark disappears from my head. I don’t want to jab at him when he’s making me feel so good. I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.

  He takes me by the neck, pinning my arms behind my back again. I’ve never done anything like this. Never felt this speeding of my blood.

  His hand splays over my chest and runs over my curves.

  “Spread your legs.”

  When I’m slow to comply, his hand disappears to give me a sharp slap on my ass. It stings, but I do what he says anyway. What the hell is with that?

  I watch him play with my pussy, watch my sides heave as he dips his fingers between my folds. My skin tingles as he releases my wrists to take my chin, turn it to the side, and kiss me. Two long, hard fingers slide into my pussy, anchoring in as his lips form a seal with mine. I clench around him as ecstasy hits my blood like fire. It’s instant. He breaks from my lips, both of us breathing hard, and then he turns my jaw, forcing me to look at myself.

  “Does it please you to see yourself being used as my toy?”

  I don’t think I’ll ever get over the sight of his hand claiming my pussy, my naked body within his grasp.

  “You will answer your prince.”

  Another smarting smack makes me stammer out a response.

  “I-I don’t… what was the question?”

  I can’t think when you’re knuckle-deep inside me.

  He laughs, kissing the shell of my ear. “Oh, Princess. I am going to defile you in so many ways.”

  I’m aware that he has some sort of kinky power fantasy going on, but I had no idea I had the same fantasy. How did he—why do I love this so much?

  He suddenly thrusts hard, burying his fingers deep and hitting a nerve that ignites a thousand pleasurable sensations. I feel them spreading over the surface of my skin, tingling. Then he slips his hand out of me, and the coolness stings my pussy.

  He pushes his wet fingers against my lip until I realize he wants me to suck them clean, and I do it. I taste myself on his hands and swirl my tongue over his fingers.

  “Suck them as if they’re my cock.”

  He fists my hair, and I move my jaw forward and back. The fingers slide out of my mouth. He watches me, lust simmering in his eyes.

  “Good girl.”

  Then his fingers seize hard, and my scalp burns with pain as he crushes his mouth against mine. His tongue roughly invades, tasting me right after I’ve sucked the juice from my own pussy. Liam doesn’t give a shit. He deepens the kiss. When we pull back, it’s only to breathe.

  “Dirty.”

  “Kneel, Princess.”

  I follow the pressure of his hand without thinking, too turned on to stop whatever the hell this is. I fall to my knees, naked, the crown bouncing on my head. The mirror shows Liam’s waist directly at the level of my head. He unbuckles his belt. I reach up, feeling the solid warmth of his cock. Then I pull his pants down, and a jolt of excitement hits my chest when the black briefs slide over his thickness. God, what would it be like to actually have him inside me?

  He pushes my head until my lips wrap around him. I slide his briefs down, running my hands over his muscular legs as my tongue and lips work his length.

  “Spread your knees apart. I want to look at you as you suck my cock. You’re beautiful in this position.” He actually strokes my cheek.

  I spread my legs, opening myself to his lustful gaze as his eyes devour my body. I grab his firm ass and rock my head, sucking down his huge length. He pulls out, allowing me to breathe, and slides his
wet cock over my face.

  He really does want to defile me.

  Then he sinks back into my waiting mouth, and I take him deep, loving the groans that rip from him. I watch myself in the mirror, taking his cock as he grabs my head and ruts me.

  “Suck your prince’s cock. That’s it, love.”

  I grab his cock, squeezing him hard. I lick the underside of him and suck his head. It’s almost the dirtiest thing I’ve ever done, and my pussy glows with need as I watch myself taking him deep. The back muscles of his legs flex as he thrusts. Then my lips touch the base of his cock, and he pulls out swiftly.

  “Get up.”

  He yanks my arms to make me stand. His red face makes me think he’s lost a measure of control. I touch his neck, relishing the contact of his bare skin. I unbutton his shirt, exposing his broad, muscled chest. He rips it off, and then we begin a frenzied, lust-fueled attack that somehow leads to Liam sitting in one of the armless chairs and me in his lap.

  He sucks in his lip and bites it after taking in a deep breath. Neither of us can take this much longer. Control fades from his brown eyes as his cock grows under my ass.

  “I am trying very hard to be gentle with you, Princess. I was made to fuck, not to make love.”

  I make a face. “I don’t want you to make love.”

  He seizes my nipples and twists, and then he bends his neck, catching one of my breasts in his mouth. He sucks hard, and I feel the jolt in my pussy as he raises my hips. The blunt pressure of his cock makes me gasp, and then he yanks me down. He impales me. There’s no other word for it when you get fucked by the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.

  Liam trembles, biting into my breast as he holds me down, waiting for me to adjust. My walls feel so fucking tight. It’s been so many years.

  He lets go of my breast, and a red patch shines on the wet skin as I lift my hips, thrusting my tits into his face. He makes me plunge back down, and the shock of his length crashes through me in a violent but pleasurable wave.

  I grab the head of the chair and bounce my hips, squeezing him as I go down. God, this is what I wanted for years. This is what I’ve needed. I wrap my arms around his neck, grinding down, taking every inch of him even though it hurts. His hands remain on my hips, guiding me, using me as leverage for his thrusts.