There were days when my jaw would ache, when sitting would become a reminder to obey, and when the throb between my legs couldn’t wait for the night to begin again. We soaked each other in and settled into our unique but complementary roles. Life couldn’t have been more perfect—until the summons came.
“What do you think she wants to talk with me about?”
My entire body throbbed. He’d taken me with brutal aggression, amping up the intensity of our lovemaking with a feral hunger. The signs of tonight would linger on my flesh for days, if not longer.
After months of being ignored, his mother had finally admitted my existence, and I would go to her with the marks of her son imprinted on my ass.
“I think she wants to speak with you about me.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
He reached over my head and released the silk ties restraining my wrists. My jaw hurt from taking him deep in my mouth. Training, he’d called it, but I thought he loved the ferocity of a good face fucking. He intended to cure me of my tendency to gag. These were the moments I loved—when he came unglued and left all decorum behind. My ass throbbed—not from the power of his hand, but from the sting of his latest and favorite flogger. My pussy ached with terrible need, and I squirmed on the sheets, needing the barest hint of friction to send me over the edge. He had yet to satisfy me. Sometimes, I thought he enjoyed making me beg.
For myself, I didn’t know the woman I’d become. This wanton thing found pleasure in kneeling, service, and sacrifice for a man who had wrapped dominance around a fragile heart and squeezed every ounce of submission from my soul. I feared and admired him, but I hadn’t yet accepted this was what I’d become.
With a look, Richard would put me in my place or send my heart soaring. From across the room, a single arch of his brow would let me know if he intended to abuse my mouth, punish me, or lick and fuck me into oblivion. Some nights, he would do all and more, always pushing my limits and testing my tolerance for pain.
Twisting toward him, I draped a leg over his hip. “Please,” I begged, “you can’t make me face her alone.”
He slapped my ass when I humped his leg. Just a little friction.
“Stop!” He flipped me on my back. “What do you want?”
“I want to come,” I said, pleading for relief.
“And I want more of that sweet ass. Watching your body twitch drives me insane.”
He’d just emptied himself down my throat, which meant it would be a few minutes before his cock hardened again.
“I don’t know if I can…”
His eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Is it ever your place to deny me what I want?”
I bit my lower lip. My ass throbbed, and while I enjoyed a good spanking, it took time before the endorphins morphed pain into pleasure. I was horny as fuck and not willing to wait. My hesitation didn’t go unnoticed, and he took any choice from me with a quick flip to my belly. As he straddled my thighs, the first smack fell on my tender flesh. My yelp spurred him on. My body twitched and jumped, dancing to the fury of his open hand.
Two fingers slid between my thighs and found my wet pussy. I clenched when he shoved them deep inside, and my screams turned to moans. He stroked me through my first orgasm and then bent my knees until he could shove his fully erect cock into my walls.
“I think I’ve found heaven,” he said and then slammed deep inside.
The smacking of our flesh replaced that of his hands, and I came again, screaming out his name. He finished a few seconds later and then collapsed on the bed beside me.
He pulled me to him. “Don’t worry; you’re not going anywhere.”
I had no intentions of leaving, but in the morning, I would face the full force of the Crown. The Queen didn’t approve of the woman who shared her son’s bed, and I feared for the worst.
Chapter 41: Tea
Rowan
Tea at Buckingham Palace.
Nervous?
I wasn’t nervous.
Terrified?
Maybe.
Petrified?
Most definitely.
I threw up once. Used the bathroom twice. A quick shifting of my feet had Richard grabbing my arm. Protocol defined limits to our public displays of affection. Hand-holding fell on the list of prohibited things. Richard broke that rule often, but in Buckingham Palace, nearly a foot of open space separated us, except his light touch.
“Stop.” He released my arm and smoothed down his suit jacket. “You’re going to be fine.”
“I’m going to throw up again.”
“No, you’re not. Make me proud.” He couldn’t have picked more powerful words.
“And you’re going to be there, right?” Despite his words of comfort, my voice shook.
“Absolutely.”
A steward approached. “Miss Cartwright, Her Majesty the Queen will see you now.”
Richard gave a nod of encouragement and stepped with me.
The double doors of the tea room opened, and the steward coughed. “Her Majesty will speak with Miss Cartwright alone.”
“Alone?” The catch in Richard’s voice put me on high alert.
“Yes, that is what she specified.” The man clicked his heels and stood even straighter.
The muscles of Richard’s jaw clenched. “Rowan…”
“It’s okay,” I said, sounding far more confident than I felt.
I’d already gone over all the scenarios in my head. A challenge waited beyond those doors, and no matter what happened, I would make Richard proud.
The doors closed behind me with a soft thud. The Queen sat at a small round table set with a linen-and-lace table topper. A full tea service with raised plates full of confections, finger sandwiches, and what looked to be scones sat before her. She did not look up but read from the newspaper clutched in her hand. This left me to wait, and while I told myself I wouldn’t fidget, my feet moved, and my fingers twisted together. She left me standing well over a minute before slowly adjusting the glasses perched on her nose. Her assessment took me in from head to toe, and her frown told me she saw nothing she liked.
“Miss Cartwright,” she said, her voice cold and unwelcoming. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty.” Hopefully, my pleasant tone could salvage this meeting. “I have been looking forward to meeting you. Richard has said nothing but lovely things.”
I was to wait for her invitation to sit. Instead, her lips twisted with distaste.
“About my son…” She lifted her teacup and took a dainty sip, drawing out her next words.
Not about to be intimidated, I took in a breath and met her disapproval head-on.
“Richard is wonderful. We’re very happy.” In the past few months, I’d allowed myself to dream of a future with him in it.
“That is of no concern,” she said. “You will stop this charade. End things with my son, and disappear back to where you came.”
The world stopped beneath my feet. At least, that was what the sudden gut-wrenching felt like. With nothing to steady myself, I swayed on my feet. My breaths pulsed in, too fast and too shallow. I was going to faint. My mind went blank, and my jaw dropped.
Disappear? Had she really told me to disappear? Like a piece of trash she could sweep out of the way?
Indignation rose within me, and I snapped. “I’ll do no such thing.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, child. You have no future here. If you care for Richard, you’ll do what is right.”
Who the hell did she think she was?
“Richard will determine what is and isn’t right.”
She placed the teacup on the table and trained the full force of her imperious gaze on me.
My spine stiffened, but I wasn’t going to back down. Evidently, neither was she.
“Americans are so testy. I admire your grit, common as it is, but you don’t understand. I have spoken, and my word carries the weight of law. You are excused.”
Richard
Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised my mother wished to speak with Rowan alone, but I didn’t like sending Rowan in without my support.
The past four months had been nothing but extraordinary, a melding of two halves becoming one soul. It was too early and too close to Edmund’s death, but my decision had been made. Rowan would be mine—not for the span of a year, but for the rest of my life.
The e-mail had gone to Infidelity this morning, exercising my buyout option. After Rowan’s official summons, the time approached to discuss our future with my mother. My nerves rioted with anticipation of the conversation occurring behind those doors. My hopes went to Rowan on making a smashing first impression.
In the middle of my contemplating, my phone rang. I was tempted to ignore it, but there weren’t many reasons for David to call.
“Hello?” I said, lowering my voice to avoid the ears of the staff. I moved to a chaise by the window and sat with my back facing the corner.
“Can you talk?” David’s terse voice broadcast his concern.
“I can.”
“This won’t take long.” He rarely minced words.
“Go on.”
“The holdings in Rowan’s trust are undervalued.”
“By how much?”
“It’s easily over three hundred, maybe more.”
I arched my brow, surprised. “Why the change?” I expected a ten or twenty percent increase, but over half? It didn’t make sense.
“The value of some of the land was underpriced, set for a quick sale by Henry Porter. Several contiguous parcels run along an undeveloped portion of the coastline, right where Parker’s company has plans for development. It’s a land grab.”
“But her assets are protected?” I studied English law, not that of the United States, but the basic tenets were similar.
“Yes, for now. However, if Porter succeeded in pressuring Rowan to marry Parker, then the doctrine of transmutation would’ve applied. All that needs to happen is the commingling of property. Once that occurs, the property in the trust becomes marital assets. Considering Porter kept the trust secret, it’s clear he and Parker intended to gain control once she married Parker.”
“What about Porter?”
Following my orders, Rowan had cut off all communication. Concerned over retribution, I’d placed a security detail on her brother. I didn’t trust the prick. Not when over three hundred million was at risk.
“Steps are underway to remove him as the trustee. It’s a lengthy and complicated process.”
“What about the other matter? Her father?”
His entire arrest, sentencing, and suicide felt wrong.
“I have no doubt Porter was involved, but her father broke the law.”
“And his suicide?”
“There’s no evidence of foul play.”
Not unexpected, but I held hope I’d be able to clear his name. I wanted to give that to Rowan and ease her pain. Another more selfish reason sat beyond that door in the judgmental mind of my mother interrogating the woman I loved. I prayed it was going well.
The double doors to the tea room whispered open on nearly silent hinges. Rowan stepped out and scanned the room. Her hand flew over her midsection, and it looked like she was about to get sick.
I vaulted out of my chair and rushed over, grabbing her elbow. Steering her out of the room, I took her down the hall and into a vacant room where I slammed the door behind us. Her entire body trembled, and her complexion paled.
“What happened?” I said, concerned she was going to get sick.
Nerves had been her enemy earlier, but this pointed to something different. The skin of her arm felt clammy, and she didn’t respond to my question.
“Rowan!”
Her gaze lifted to mine and then slid away. “She told me to go home.” Rowan’s legs gave way.
I caught her in my arms. Taking a knee, I lowered her down, propping her back against the wall. Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Your mother’s exact words were, ‘End things with my son, and disappear back to where you came. My word is law.’”
I folded her into my arms. “I decide when we end things, and there’s no way I’m sending you back unless it’s to see Freddy. You’re mine, irrevocably and always mine.” The last word came out as a growl.
With a rap to the door, I signaled Mark. He would’ve taken up guard outside the door.
I kissed Rowan and wiped the tears from her face. “Mark is going to wait outside that door. No one will come in, except me.” I hated leaving her in this state, but I had words to share with my mother.
“Don’t leave me,” she said, clutching at my chest.
“I will never leave you, but I need to have a conversation with my mother.”
Her eyes widened, and she gave a slight nod. “I must look miserable.”
“You’ve never looked more amazing.”
To know losing me had put her in such a desperate state angered the hell out of me, but it told me something else. Her feelings mirrored mine.
Chapter 43: King
Richard
On a rampage might not be the best way to confront my mother, but this wasn’t a conversation between mother and son. As heir apparent, my demand would be heard.
The doors to the tea room were closed. Two doormen stood to either side, men I ignored, men whose eyes widened as I shoved the doors open and marched inside where my mother sat, daintily sipping tea.
“I expected a response, but theatrics? This behavior is quite unbecoming.”
“If you think for a second—”
“What I think is you’ve dallied enough. My patience is worn out. I will see you wed and a son on your knee in less than two years.”
“That’s preposterous.” I wasn’t ready to become a father. The other? My future belonged with Rowan. “You can’t dictate that.”
Her brow lifted. “You’d be surprised what I can dictate.”
“Not this.”
“You don’t expect me to believe you care for this girl?”
“I do.”
“A destitute child you paid to be your companion?”
My mouth gaped.
She flicked her napkin off her lap and dabbed at her mouth. “You think I didn’t know? You think the best secret service agency in the world couldn’t find out?”
“You had me investigated?”
“I had her investigated, and of course, with thirty thousand pounds disappearing from your account and reappearing in hers…”
“You have no business interfering in my personal life like that.”
“You don’t understand how your life has changed. A little indiscretion here and there was fine when it didn’t matter, but you’re to be England’s next king!” She slapped her napkin down on the table. “Really? Paying for sex!”
“I never paid for sex. I paid for companionship.” Paying for sex was beneath me, ludicrous to consider, disgusting even, but it made perfect sense. Technically, I paid for Rowan’s companionship, never for sex.
“Is that what you’re calling it?” A sneer pinched at her face. “She’s not fit to be in the same room with you, let alone your bed.”
“Who is in my bed is none of your business.”
“No, but it’s the business of the Crown. You must associate with a woman worthy of becoming your queen. Not a desperate creature who sold her body—”
“Enough!” I said. “Your intelligence network seems to have missed a thing or two.” I ground out my words, struggling to retain my dignity and not sound like a petulant child.
“The girl’s father was a thief. He embezzled millions and took the coward’s way out. She has nothing but debt and the morals of a whore.”
The skin of my neck heated, and my fingers clenched. None of this was going the way I had hoped. Hugs and kisses weren’t my mother’s thing. I hadn’t been kidding when I told
Rowan not to expect a warm welcome, but this?
While I fumed, my mother continued, “That’s not the kind of woman my son will associate with. She’s not the kind of woman worthy to be the future queen. Your arrangement ends today. I’ve been more than patient, believing you’d come to your senses, but clearly, you need me to step in. A king is not a man ruled by passion, and you’re wasting your time when you should be looking for a suitable bride.”
“I’m not ruled by passion, but my heart has spoken. Rowan isn’t going anywhere. And her family is one of a very few prestigious Southern legacies. And”—I lifted my finger, emphasizing my point—“not that it matters, but she’s far from destitute.”
My mother scoffed. “Not with the money you’ve thrown at her to be your private plaything. I’m certain her finances look quite nice now.”
“You might want to look again. You missed about three hundred million of them.”
Her eyes widened. “Nonsense.”
“How our relationship started has no bearing on where it’s headed.”
“And where is that?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
She shot up from her seat. The fine china chattered and shook. “I’ll never allow it. I won’t sign—”
“Then, I’ll never marry.” The threat left my mouth before I realized what I’d said.
It wasn’t my intention to break my mother’s heart. She trod a fine line between Queen and mother. Her eyes widened, and all color drained from her face. Hands trembling, lips quivering, she swayed. I barely got to her before she collapsed back in her chair.
“Mum,” I said, “I’m sorry.”
She fanned herself and gripped the edge of the table. “This is not the behavior of a king.”
Good thing I wasn’t king yet.
“Does she mean so much to you that you’d defy your Queen?”
“More than life itself.”
My mother took in a deep breath. “You will not marry that girl.”
“That is exactly what I intend.”
Her lower lip quivered. “I will not allow it. You require my consent, and I forbid it. That woman will diminish the status of the royal house, and you won’t marry her while I draw breath.”
The Fidelity World- Nondisclosure Page 20