by Avery Wilde
His hands suddenly moved down, lifting me up, and I realized he wanted to change positions. I happily turned over and got on my hands and knees—no small feat for a curvy girl on a slightly wonky couch—and I felt his hand come down on my ass cheeks in a gentle smack as I arched my back.
“Oh!” I said, pleasurable heat radiating from where he’d lightly spanked me. It was as if he already knew everything about my body; as if he could see into my mind and know exactly what would bring me the most pleasure.
Then he was inside me again, thrusting deeply, and I gasped as I quickly reached my tipping point again, knowing I was about to explode.
“That’s right…come on my cock,” Andrew grunted, knowing how close I was, and his words were enough to send me over the edge.
I gripped the top of the sofa as an orgasm unlike anything I’d ever felt before began to overtake me, and my whole body convulsed and tensed as it flooded my body. White-hot light seemed to explode in front of my eyes as it tore through me like a whirlwind, and all my senses seemed to fail. All I could register was the intense feeling of pleasure wracking every inch of me.
As I came, Andrew pulled out and then slammed back into me, hard and deep. My body stretched around him again and then squeezed him as another wave of pleasure descended over me. Harder and harder, faster and faster…he was fucking me senseless, and I had no idea how much time had passed before I approached another climax with a gasp. He flexed his hips in one last thrust, one more delicious push that sent me falling over the edge. Thrown onto a wave of pure ecstasy, I was so enraptured that I barely heard his low groan as he came, his cock pulsing within me, each throb so strong that I could feel every inch of him inside me despite how soaking wet I was.
He disposed of the condom and quickly cleaned himself up, and I collapsed onto the sofa a moment later, my body coated in a sheen of sweat. Andrew grinned as he sat down next to me, watching me struggle to regain my bearings.
“That was fucking amazing,” he said, still panting slightly.
I smiled at him. “You’re not so bad yourself. Out of all the royalty I’ve been with, you’re definitely in the top five.”
He grinned. “Funny. I guess there’s some truth to those rumors that we’re sleeping together, huh?”
“There is now, yeah.”
I was too dizzy with post-coital bliss to worry about how bad it was that we’d just done that. I’d made such a big deal about how awful it was that people might think we were sleeping together, and then I’d practically fallen right into bed with him. Well, not exactly a bed, but the point was still the same. I’d done something unbelievably bad…but god, there was no way anyone could convince me it wasn’t the best thing in the world right now.
I knew the creeping sensation of guilt would return soon enough, though. I’d always been a good girl, responsible and independent. I didn’t sleep with bad boy princes—or my boss, for that matter—but here I was, practically drooling at the idea of letting him screw me again, if and when that happened for us. I was completely and utterly powerless to stop the thoughts, because Andrew had me.
He really had me.
As arrogant and presumptuous as he could be sometimes, he had an undeniable hold on me…and I couldn’t wait for more.
Chapter 10
Keira
The phrase ‘rollercoaster day’ gets thrown about all too much these days; people apply it to quite ordinary days in which they happened to find a coin in the street but also chipped a nail—wow, what a roller-coaster. But I felt pretty comfortable in applying the phrase to the day I’d just experienced. It’d had its lows (being shouted at by Michael) and its relative highs (seeing the paintings in the Long Gallery), but boy had it finished on a real high.
If I’d had time to think beforehand then I might have wondered what to expect of Andrew, but in the heat of the moment there hadn’t been time—it had simply happened.
Twice.
The first, an experience of animal intensity that had permanently scorched every nerve in my body with white hot trails of pleasure then blown the top of my head off. The second time had lasted longer; it had been slower and gentler and yet, in its own way, it had been even more intense, the pleasure concentrated to a fine edge, the slow build making the final, ecstatic release all the more overwhelming. For a moment I’d thought I might cry, and I shared that deeply personal moment with Andrew, staring into his eyes and knowing that he was feeling the same. Sex, at least in my experience, had never been more deeply personal and intimate. Between the two times, when we’d been trying to get our breath back and recover our strength after that first athletic session, we’d lain close, feeling each other’s nakedness against our own, holding hands and smiling about what we’d just done. A moment of peace and pure, shining happiness. In its own way, that period had been as intimate as the act itself.
We finally parted with a kiss. Andrew headed for the stairs and I floated to the bus stop, which took me home, bathed in a cloud of rainbows and stars. As soon as I was safely back in my apartment—one of the apartments which were given to royal staff at a decent rental rate—I got out my laptop and tried to Skype with Sarah. The events of the evening were of course, a complete secret and not to be told to anyone for fear of press intrusion, but I knew I could trust Sarah. Besides, I had to tell someone!
“You what?” Sarah goggled disbelievingly from my laptop five minutes later. I’d filled her in on what happened, but I’d used a code word for Andrew on the very slim chance that some crazy hacker was listening in on my chat sessions. She’d immediately known who and what I was talking about, and I daresay I’d never seen her look more surprised.
I could only grin like a Cheshire cat. “I know.”
“When you fumbled that ball in New York it never occurred to me that you’d be able to pick it up again.”
“I know.”
“This is incredible!” Sarah seemed to be more excited than me.
“Obviously,” I finally remembered to say, “you can’t tell anyone about this.”
Sarah nodded. “Good point.” She turned around. “Get out.”
“What?” a male voice asked from off-camera.
“I’ve got to talk to my friend.”
I tried not to stare as a half-naked man wandered across the background of the onscreen image. “Hope I didn’t call at a bad time.”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think he had another in him anyway. Now, back on you, I want to know every… actually, no, broad strokes first. In one word; describe it.”
So many words went through my head, it’d been the sort of evening that made me grasp for superlatives, but when asked for one word there was only one that would do. “Beautiful.”
Sarah shrugged. “I think you may be talking about a different ‘it’ to me. Although not necessarily. But we can circle back to that. I mean, I know you didn’t have a tape measure on you, but a general description will do.”
“I’ve missed you,” I said, grinning.
“Not tonight, I bet.”
“Maybe not…”
“Now,” Sarah picked up her laptop and moved it so she could relax in a comfortable chair. “One second.” She hopped up and returned with a large glass of wine. “Right, now, tell me everything. And I mean everything. I want the full blow by blow, so to speak. Omit no detail, however filthy. In fact, focus on the filthy.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Spoilsport.”
I shrugged. “I just don’t want to make you jealous.”
Sarah leaned eagerly forward. “He was that good, was he?”
I grinned. “Better.”
Through wheedling and teasing and prying and cajoling, Sarah managed to extract a few more details about the experience out of me, who after tussling between ladylike discretion and a desire to brag about how amazing my night had been, settled for a happy middle-ground between the two.
“So now you’re the prince’s plaything,” Sarah said when she’
d got all the specifics she was going to get out of me. “Bit of a cliché though, eh? The prince and the maid.”
“It’s not like that,” I insisted, although a persistent voice at the back of my mind wondered…could it be like that?
Sarah sighed, and for the first time seemed serious. “Look, Keira, I can tell you’re excited and I don’t blame you, and I don’t want to be a wet blanket but…maybe take it easy? You met the guy and he lied to you to get you into bed. You met him again and he acted in a way that couldn’t be called romantic. Then you met him again, had one nice—albeit brief—conversation, and you had sex in a changing room. You take those events in isolation and this does not sound like the sort of man you’re looking for. It sounds like the sort of man I’m looking for. Trust me, I’ve been with my share of guys like that.”
“I guess.”
“Trust me, I’m not saying this to put a downer on your night. My point is: okay, maybe he’s changed, maybe he’s not the guy we know from all the papers and magazines and dodgy photos on Twitter. But nothing you’ve described to me completely convinces me of that.”
“If you’d just heard what he said…” I began.
“Guys will say anything to get laid,” Sarah said bluntly with a deal of authority. “I’m not saying he’s definitely using you. For all I know he’s completely on the same level and this is just the perfect little love story. I’m just saying, that doesn’t happen very often, so tread carefully and don’t get your hopes up.”
It was good advice, and it came from a good place, and I had to admit that in the darkest recesses of my mind, I’d been wondering the same sort of thing ever since I’d started to make my way home. And not just that.
“I don’t know what to do next,” I admitted. “I mean…I’m having an affair with the boss. That’s just not me, it’s more…”
“Me?” Sarah suggested.
“I didn’t say that!”
She snickered. “Its fine, I said it. It’s true. And you and I are very different people who look for different things from the guys we hook up with. You’re playing in a different league now. In fact, I think you’re playing a different sport, and one with very different rules. And as a veteran of this particular sport, I gotta tell you…people play dirty.”
I smiled. It was so easy talking to Sarah; nothing was off-limits, I could say anything in complete security and confidence and knew that the advice I would get back would be honest and well-meaning, if not always good.
“There’s the whole royal thing as well.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not really…” I struggled for the word. “Appropriate.”
“Appropriate?” Sarah pulled a face. “What are you now, the Queen of England?”
“She’s actually quite nice if you catch her on the right day.”
“I’m sure that over there in merry old England there’s all sorts of things that aren’t ‘appropriate’,” Sarah continued with the authority of one who had never left US soil. “Cold beer, sandwiches with the crusts left on, forgetting to tug your forelock when the lord of the manor comes past.”
“I haven’t travelled back in time,” I said with a grin. “Does all your information on England come from watching repeats of Downton Abbey?”
“Pretty much,” Sarah admitted. “But my point remains, who gives a rat’s ass what’s ‘appropriate’? You’re a woman, he’s a man, and the rest is all bullshit.”
“I’m working for his family,” I said. “Office romances are doomed at the best of times, and when you add in the fact that the tabloid press would have a field day if they found out, then…I really don’t want my face on the front page of The Sport.”
“The what?”
“It’s a newspaper over here.”
“Dumb name.”
“Maybe, but that’s not the point. I can just see this going so badly.”
Sarah shook her head. “You see, you’re condemned out of your own words: office romance. And you’re right, office romances never work. But a casual fumble in the stationery cupboard during lunch break is absolutely fine. You’re already looking at this as a romance and I say again—be careful. He just doesn’t seem to me like that kind of guy. He’s been trying to get you into bed since he met you and you think that now he’s succeeded, he’s all of a sudden looking for something long term and heartfelt? I don’t want to smash your dreams, Keira, I really don’t, but I’m not seeing it.”
I nodded glumly. “You’re right. I won’t let it happen again.”
Sarah nearly choked on her red wine. “What, are you high?! I never said that! I said be careful. Be hopeful that its love, but be aware that it might just be sex. And be grateful that if it is just sex, at least it’s good sex. Don’t break up with the best you’ve ever had! I didn’t suggest that even remotely.”
“I don’t want it to be just sex. I like him. Despite everything, I like him.”
Sarah leaned forward. “Be honest with yourself. If you found out that for him, this was about nothing but sex…would you want to stop having it?”
I opened my mouth to reply. Of course I would stop, I wasn’t interested in meaningless sex, especially with someone for whom I might have real feelings. That could only end badly for both of us. But the words to express that just didn’t come as my mind took me back to the events of earlier that evening.
Could I really give up that kind of mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex under any circumstances?
Maybe not…
“That’s what I thought,” Sarah said smugly, catching the look on my face. “If you want my advice, hope for the best, expect the worst, and in the meantime, lie back and enjoy the ride.”
And, although it was starkly contrary to everything I’d ever believed about myself, I thought that in this particular situation and with this particular man, that was pretty good advice. Of course, it was also probably a really stupid thing to do, opening me up to getting my heart broken and my face on the front of every tabloid newspaper in Britain, but after a lifetime of alternating the decision-making process between my head and my heart, I thought it might be a good idea to let my libido have a turn in charge.
It was about time, right?
Chapter 11
Andrew
The sound of a vacuum cleaner going in my room first thing in the morning was usually enough for me to start the day in a bad mood, but this morning it was music to my ears. The girl of my dreams was playing a little joke on me, and I was more than ready to play one back on her—one which I was sure would be better received this time round. As I went to throw back the covers and reveal myself in all my glory, I looked across the room at Keira with a smug smile on my face.
And thankfully I had the presence of mind to pull the covers back before I’d gone too far.
“Good morning, your Highness,” said the girl who was attractive in her own way but was absolutely and in no way Keira. “Sorry if I woke you, but the Queen insisted.”
“Er…of course,” I said. If my mother was going to passive aggressively use the staff to punish me every time I did something to irritate her, then I’d probably never get another decent night’s sleep. More importantly, where was Keira? A sinking feeling claimed my stomach; it was hard not to link the fact that my mother was obviously pissed at me to Keira’s absence.
“You’re new, aren’t you?” I said, not wanting to ask where Keira was for fear of causing trouble, and clinging to the possibility that it might just be her day off.
“Not new to the house, your Highness,” the girl replied. “But Rogers asked me to take over as your personal maid.”
“Permanently?”
“As far as I know, your Highness. Is that all right? I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, that’s fine, that’s fine. I should probably start getting up at a more reasonable time, anyway,” I said.
I would’ve loved to ask why she’d needed to take over and where Keira was, but Rogers would hardly have shared th
at information, and besides, I didn’t want to raise any suspicions.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, and the girl simply nodded and continued cleaning the floor.
As I showered, I rushed through the endless possibilities in my mind. It could hardly be a coincidence that this sudden staff reorganization had happened the day after Keira and I had hooked up in the day-staff changing room. Was it possible that someone had seen us? Yes, of course it was possible. We’d locked the door but presumably keys existed, there were windows, and for all I knew there were security cameras. I couldn’t speak for Keira, but I’d been so caught up in the moment with her that I wouldn’t have noticed if the house’s entire staff had come in and cheered us on. Christ, it’d been so hot. There was nothing better than a woman who could give just as good as she got, and those moments last night had proved Keira was like that in more ways than one. The fire in her eyes, the way she’d held her own…my cock was practically begging me to fuck her again and again.
So the big question now was: what had happened to her? Had she been fired? If so, I would never forgive myself. Perhaps she’d just been reassigned?
If she had been fired, would she think I was behind it? Selfish though it was, that thought gave me pause. The idea of her being fired was bad, but the idea that she might think I’d ordered her to be fired now that I’d had my fun with her was unbearable.
One way or another, I had to find her.
The great thing about being a prince was that people very seldom questioned what you were doing anywhere, which meant that I could go and check on the staff schedule with relative impunity. I got a few startled looks from various maids, footmen and so on, but I answered them all with a smile as I made my way to the complex notice board that told the house staff where they were working and what they were doing on any given day. And there she was on the list! Keira Valencia.
Relief overwhelmed me in finding that she hadn’t been fired, which didn’t mean that I was out of the woods yet; she might still think that I’d asked for her to be reassigned. I ran a finger along the line that showed where Keira was due to be. Her duties as my personal maid had been scored out with a ruler-straight line and scribbled in were her new duties as…