by Mia Madison
He squeezes my mound so the flesh presses between his fist, allowing him more to suck between his firm lips. His tongue laps across the hard point and shards of electricity shiver through me, heading directly underwater to my pussy.
He lifts his head up, gasping at the air and his eyes find mine, boring into me. Then he rips off the other half of the bra and tugs my other breast into his mouth, licking and ravaging the nipple and all the surrounding flesh like he’s starving. I dagger my fingers through his hair and cup his head to pull him down onto me, wanting him to suction up all of my flesh into his hot mouth. The raging need in me is unbearable. I can’t think, I don’t care what boundaries are between us. I need him pushing between my thighs right now.
He shoves the underside of both breasts so they lift out of the water and goes from one to the other like he needs to imbibe all of me. My clit is pounding so hard I can feel the beat of my pulse as the blood rushes though the agonized point. I lift my thigh, with difficulty, as I need to balance myself in the water. I wrap it around Lucien’s hip, as high as I can manage.
He becomes a wild thing then. His mouth sucks and laps at my nipples as his fingers slide over my tummy to push inside the crotch of my bikini bottoms and glide across my slippery wetness. I’m wet from the water and even wetter from the slickness pouring out of my pussy.
“Oh god,” I moan and it echoes around the stone walls of the cave.
I pull up tight as Lucien’s hard fingers rub circles around my clit, knowing exactly what to do, of course. He moves smoothly with perfect pressure around my folds, avoiding the pounding in the triangle point at the center, sending me deranged with want.
“Fuck me,” I plead. “I want you inside me.”
His fingers pick up the pace, occasionally gliding across my clit sending sparkles through my body in showers. My climax is rising fast and I need him filling me when it explodes.
“Please,” I beg him, urgently, tugging at his hair twined around my finger. “Please, fuck me.”
His thumb finds the hollow of my entrance and rubs circular motions around the hole without pushing inside. I bob in the water trying to urge him, force him inside me.
An explosion of white light fires and I’m so close to the massive O of my life I can’t believe it when Lucien pulls away from me. He swims fast as a lightning ray to the side of the cave and yanks the photographer standing on a ledge into the water.
The heavy guy crashes in with a roar and a huge splash then comes up flailing as Lucien pounds his fist into his jaw over and over. The guy doesn't defend himself, only desperately clings to his camera which is in a waterproof casing. Lucien stops pummeling him, yanks the camera from his hands and lifts it to smash it down on the rocks.
“No,” I screech, knowing that could get him into big trouble and I don't want that on my account.
He hears me and freezes midway. Instead he tears open the casing, finds the latch to the compartment and pulls out the digital card holding the images. He dumps the camera on the rock for the pap to retrieve then comes swimming back to me.
“Come on Baby, this place is ruined now.”
He guides me to the cave mouth opening and waits while I dive down, then follows me. We swim deep then he grasps my hand and squeezes as we point up toward the light.
We come bobbing up for air together and he keeps my hand in his to pull me in toward his Neptune, God of the Sea wide and glittering torso.
Chapter FOURTEEN
Lucien
Those assholes aren't going to get a shot of her. I carefully reposition her bikini top around her gorgeous tits, not allowing my fingers to connect her flesh this time. Forcing myself to glaze over eyes and mind, I’m not allowing the insane heat to build in me again. I was seconds away from thrusting inside her back in the cave. She was so wet and so eager, begging me to take her.
It’s ripping me up how much I still want to.
We swim back to the boat.
“You might have broken that guys nose,” Kennedy murmurs, when I help her back on board.
“I don’t give a shit. Don’t I deserve some privacy in my life to be with my girl?”
Fuck, I shouldn’t have put it that way.
She’s not my girl and can’t ever be.
“Maybe I should have shaken his hand,” I snap, throwing the throttle back to lift the nose and plane the powerful speedboat across the water so none of those garbage boats can keep up with us.
“Why,” she asks softly.
Her voice trembles slightly. Her eyes are trawling back and forth across mine, hardly daring to ask.
“Because that should never have happened,” I tell her brusquely.
She turns her face and glares proudly ahead out to sea. I can’t stop looking at her. Her wet hair is lifted by the counter force, streaming out behind her. She looks like a goddess, standing at the prow of my boat, her perfect tits covered by tiny triangles of fabric, swaying firmly on every wave landing.
“Why’s that?” she says, not looking at me. “I know you want me just as much as I want you.”
“Because I don’t want to steal your virginity. It’s the most precious thing you can bring the man you will marry some day.”
She cracks a rueful smile and shakes her head. Silence descends on us, driving us apart.
“There’s a State Dinner you’ll have to attend this evening,” I inform her, coldly.
Forcing the need in me back down.
“Fine,” she says. “But I want Daddy there.”
“That wont be possible,” I say.
“Then I won’t be attending. I’m not leaving him alone in his room two nights in a row.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her he’ll be dining alone for years soon but I can’t do that to her. She looks so fucking regal, like a real little queen when she’s mad. As well as being my own perfect princess.
“Fine,” I say, in her cold manner.
We ride the rest of the distance in silence. When I berth at the marina, she allows a waiting footman to hand her out before me. She takes off for the palace without waiting to be wrapped into the robe being held out for her, and without a backward glance.
I don't chase after her and already I regret that. Instead I allow the footman to enrobe me then head to the equerry’s office to make sure my orders from this morning were carried out. He tells me everything is perfect so I head to my suite to take care of a little business before the State Dinner.
When the gong sounds for us to go down to the huge event, I leave my room immediately. Kennedy and I aren't yet married so protocol demands that we enter the reception separately. That being the case, I don't go to the yellow room to collect her but head directly down to where the invited guests are waiting. A round of applause rings out as I come down the stairs.
I scour all around, desperate for a glimpse, but I can’t see Kennedy anywhere. Her father is at the bar, talking shit eagerly to some diplomat. He looks like a smarmy car salesman but that’s probably my jaded view of him.
My heart rate picks up. If Kennedy’s going to pull a stunt on me by not showing up, she’s going to be in for a spanking that will make the last one seem like a caress.
My father appears at the top of the stairs and makes his slow progress down, relishing the accolade. Cocktails over, the gong sounds for us all to go into dinner now that the King’s arrived.
I’m beside myself with annoyance at her for letting me down and then an ‘ooh’ swishes through the assembly. I look up, following their gazes and a fucking princess is at the top of the stairs. I have never seen a woman so stunning. Her hair is rolled up into a formal style that she manages to make look incredibly sexy with some loose tendrils hanging down her back. Her dress is by one of the Paris designers that I told the equerry to order. They could send over some creations if they wanted to be front page news and copied everywhere this season.
Sure enough, Kennedy came home after our swimming disaster to find a pile of designer gowns waiting
for her from which to make her choice. And fuck, she chose brilliantly. Her body looks delicious in an off the shoulder low backed full length white gown. I see she’s also wearing shoes with red soles – the genuine article, screaming high like I like on a woman. And she’s wobbling just a tiny bit as she comes down the stairs, looking out at everyone clapping with her face shining.
I flick my eyes away from her to see my father has stopped his progression in to dinner to take a look at her and I get that he doesn't find her lacking.
I take the bottom stairs, trying not to dash but remain majestic as I extend an arm to her. She takes in my white tie dress suit, probably thinking I’m the worlds biggest stiff. Then she beams a smile at me and slips her arm into mine like she adores me and only me in the entire world. Fuck what I wouldn't give to have a woman gaze at me with genuine affection like that.
“You look exquisite,” I whisper.
“Good enough to fuck?” she hisses through a fixed smile.
“Definitely.”
Fuck protocol. I bring her into my arm so she can lean onto me for support and walk at my side not behind. The final touch I made this afternoon was switch the place cards at the table, same as I did as a joke when I was a boy. Kennedy is now seated beside me and I settle her into her chair before taking mine. She’s looking wide-eyed at the gold edged plates, the hand calligraphied menu of eight courses.
“Just follow my lead,” I lean in to whisper the aroma from her skin and hair almost blasts my head off with the surge of desire.
“Anywhere,” she whispers back.
The wine glasses in a line intrigue her.
“Are we getting bombed?”
“Not with the President of Tayrona sitting right across from us.”
She gets into the swing of the dinner, speaking intelligently to the diplomat on her other side when he asks her a question about the United States. I glow as proudly as if she actually were mine.
“You really thought I was a virgin?” she whispers when everyone’s busy with the poultry course.
“I thought – I -” How do I tell her it was her father who told me that?
“I’m twenty four years old, If you want a virgin these days you’d have to grab one at the school gates.”
I make a distasteful face that she finds amusing. Like I’m the uptight one.
“What is it with all you guys and virgins anyways?” she hiss-whispers so no one can even read her lips. I must admit, she’s good at this statecraft.
“Maybe we want to be the only one. Ever.”
“You would be the only one. In the here and now, and then forever,” she says. “Any guy in my past is staying there. But only for a man that treats me like a woman, not like some doll that isn’t allowed to have lived a little or know her own mind.”
“I doubt that would ever be your character.” I say,
“Thank fuck,” she hisses.
“Yeah, thank fuck.” A grin spreads across my face. I’m enjoying a State Dinner for the first time ever.
“I wouldn't want a man that’s so insecure he can’t tolerate the idea of me having enjoyed any other experience in life.”
“Is that me?”
“Is it?”
“Have you ever had sex at one of these shindigs?”
I almost choke on my wine.
“I told you, I’ve never had a woman in the palace with me.”
“A state dinner virgin.”
She slips a hand under the tablecloth and runs her fingers tantalizingly up my thigh. She reaches the bulge in my fitted dress pants and doesn't stop there, she rubs it using her wrist joint so there’s no action above the table and I’m ready to fucking explode seeing as I’m still raging from this afternoon. She fingers my zipper and I hiss an order at her.
“Don’t you dare.”
She looks up at me innocent and adoring as she slides the zipper down and slips her hand inside.
“Oh,” she purrs softly. Finding me commando and stiff as fucking stone.
I curse through gritted teeth and scour the table length. No one’s looking at us. Until the President looks up and smiles at me. Fuck, I curse again.
Kennedy looks around like Her Serene Highness and starts stroking my length firmly, provocatively. My breathing hitches and a little smile curls on her perfect pink lips. I know she plans to keep going until she makes me explode right here in front of the king, the president, her father and half the world’s diplomatic corp.
I reach under the cloth and grab her hand, resettle myself and then rise, holding my napkin strategically.
“Excuse us,” I announce to the table, “My fianceé requires my assistance.”
Chapter FIFTEEN
Kennedy
“Are you going to spank me again,” I ask, breathless as I struggle to keep up with him dragging me out of the huge dining room. “I’m not wearing any panties,” I add, making him emit a low growl.
I trot along, trying not to trip in the tight dress and heels, his hand gripping me hard enough to bruise but I don't care. I want his hands hard on me, all over me. “I was hoping you’d be the one getting me off under the table, seeing as you like virgins so much.”
He stops in the middle of the wide hallway and rounds on me to clamp both my upper arms in his huge palms. His eyes gouge so hard into mine I feel sharded into pieces. At first I think he’s furious with me for stroking his perfect thick shaft, so huge, so steely under the soft skin. It was like stroking cashmere, right in front of all those dignitary types.
I want more of that. His lids lower into a gaze of such urgent need, he looks almost tortured. Is that all for me?
Luc whips around, keeping one hand on my arm to bring me flying along with him. He heads straight for the wall, then presses a panel so a section pops open. He kicks it back far enough to pull me through behind him and I go tumbling into him against the side of his muscular chest.
We’re in some sort of serving pantry. I hear low talking, laughter and people walking up and down on the other side. Then my attention tears away from that, back to the huge man bearing down on me. Even before he heels the panel shut behind us, Luc’s hands are covering me. His mouth slams down over mine, sucking up my tongue along the underside, the top side, twining around and around so my head starts to swirl.
Luc possesses me with his kiss and his hands drag down the length of my back, over the curve of my ass where his fingers claw into my dress. He takes the flesh along as he drags the length of the long silk velvet skirt up my legs.
“I need you, Kennedy. I can’t play this game any longer. I need to be buried inside you right now.”
He’s panting a little harder as his mouth steals hard kisses, almost lip bites down the side of my neck.
“I need your tight pussy around me. My cock is insane for you. Only you.”
“Yes,” I urge him on. Then softer, more pleading, “Yes.”
I cling to his solid back, my fingers clawing at the smooth wool of his jacket. I can feel every taut muscle flex as he tips forward to bury his face into the side of my neck making goosebumps rise all along my arms. They even feel like they’re running down my tummy but that’s only because he’s clawed my full length dress up to my hips and discovered I am actually wearing underwear.
“Naughty girl, telling me whoppers,” he husks into my skin so it shivers.
“Seems I’ll do anything to entice you,” I moan, my breath hitching as I tip my head back and allow him access to more of my throat and chest.
But Lucien isn’t wasting time. He’s a crazed beast and now the impediment of my tight skirt is raised, he pulls me up onto him. In one move he sweeps all the bottles lined up on the serving station to one side. They all go crashing and toppling against the wall.
Thankfully, they don’t smash to the floor, bringing a hundred, or a thousand servants to discover us in here. But the Crown Prince doesn’t seem to care. He spreads my legs to shove himself between them, wedging me open as he shoves me up onto the table
.
I’m fumbling and tugging at all the buttons and hooks on his jacket, the waistband. In a rage of frustration I tug at the zipper and yank it part way down, feeling the head of his huge shaft burst free.
His hands have traveled frantically up my body, caressing every last inch of me with ravenous need, squeezing, stroking. He pulls down one side of my dress and growls out a low feral sound as my breast pops free and he finds me topless, like he likes me. My nipple goes into his mouth where he’s licking and biting all at once as his free hand pulls down the other side and palms the entire mound into his squeezing grasp.
He can’t get enough all at once. I cling to him as his hand shoves down between my legs and tears back the flimsy crotch of my panties.
It’s absolutely soaked through and he moans into my mouth as his fingers glide into my slick folds.
“You’re so fucking wet, Baby.”
“You made me wait so long,” I whimper.
All I can do is claw his back, clinging onto him as he rides roughshod across every part of my body like a man possessed. He’s so hard it’s almost brutal but at the same time tender, filled with so much hungry yearning I feel more desirable than ever before. My neck stretches further, my mouth opening to drag at the air that seems to have sucked out of the tiny space. Lucien fills it with his powerful body and huge need.
His finger slides across my swollen clit and into the hollow of my pussy mouth.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he croaks.
“Don’t wait,” I purr, pleading. If he takes any more time this may not happen. Anyone might come in.
“Please. Don’t. Wait.” Each word comes out of my mouth with a hitch of breath.
His fingers are gliding circles in my wetness, every nerve ending is tingling and reaching at his touch. Even my pores want him. The desperate yearning for his beautiful prick pushing through my slickness is overwhelming, making me breathless. My hands drag over his back and try to shove his jacket off but then there’s all the buttons of the white waistcoat and my need is too desperate. I press between us to palm his cock but he slaps my hand away.