by Madison Faye
“Gents.”
Our cranky, sarcastic, bad-ass head of security tipped an imaginary hat at us before he headed to the chopper, started the rotors, and slowly lifted away, leaving us and Emma alone on the cliffs.
She turned to us, her face full of that fierceness, her eyes blazing with emotion as she took a stop toward us.
“I never—”
She never got a chance to finish before all three of us were suddenly surrounding her and swooping her into our arms. Emma moaned, melting into us as the three of us pulled her tight. I tilted her chin up, and before she could say another word, I did what I basically decided right there to do for the rest of my life: kiss her, and love her, fiercely.
I kissed her heatedly, groaning into her soft, pouty lips before I let Landon pull her away. He claimed her mouth next, kissing her with a growl as his hand moved to cup her ass possessively. Joaquin took her last, kissing her mouth and pulling her against him until they broke apart gasping for air.
“I can’t believe Ryker fucking polygraphed you,” I muttered. “Remind me to have a word with him.”
Emma giggled, throwing her arms around me.
“It was my idea, you know.”
“We never should have doubted—”
“You should have,” she said quietly. “It’d be weird if you weren’t nervous,” she said with a wink. “Didn’t you once say that to me?”
“Slightly different circumstances,” Landon purred. “But yes.”
The four of us moved back to truck, pulling the back hatch down and climbing into the bed. We lay back, staring out at the sun dipping over the horizon on the ocean as Emma — the one, perfect, incredible girl that all three of us had fallen for, snuggled up to us.
“So what happens now?” she said quietly.
“Well, now we clean house back home,” Joaquin muttered. “No more fucking around. I’m done waiting for this council to deliberate this, and they’ve just proved that they’d rather torpedo all three of us than actually do anything.”
“We are the princes,” Landon said with a shrug. “We could just disband the council and declare ourselves a united governing force.”
“The people might not like it,” I said pensively, stroking my jaw. “But then, the people need a working government.”
“You know you three have some of the highest approval ratings in the kingdoms?”
I glanced at Emma and grinned. “Is that your personal opinion?”
She giggled. “Well, obviously, I’ve got fairly high approval ratings of you, but then, I might be biased.”
“Multiple orgasms will do that,” Landon chuckled, making her blush bright red as she turned to pull him into a kiss.
“Okay, yes, but I mean by the public. By your people. The paper does these approval things all the time for regents and rulers, looking for whoever they’re going to try and dig into in the press next. But you guys always came back with these glowingly high numbers.”
Landon sighed dramatically. “Like I said, it’s the multiple orgasms.”
Emma groaned and needled her finger into him as Joaquin and I chuckled.
“Better not be giving anyone multiple orgasms,” she pouted.
“No one but you, Princess,” I murmured, taking her hand.
“Not a princess,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Yeah well how’d you like to be?”
She froze at Joaquin’s words, slowly turning to meet his eye.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what we mean,” I said softly, turning to meet my brothers’ eyes and nodding.
We were all thinking it, and really, what were we waiting for? We’d found the girl of our damn dreams, and the idea of letting her get away from us, especially because of some dumb rules and traditions in our kingdom that no one gave a shit about, was too much to even consider.
And after all, we were damned princes.
“Stay with us,” I murmured, pulling her close as the sun dipped low. “Stay with us for always. And don’t just be our princess, be our Queen.”
She swallowed, her face going pink as her breath caught.
“What are you saying?”
“You’re the investigative journalist here, right?” Landon teased. “Piece it together.”
She snorted a laugh. “That a proposal?”
“No, this is.”
Emma gasped as the three of us suddenly moved away from her. We pulled her up until she was standing in the truck bed, and the three of us slowly sank to one knee in front of her. She brought her hands to her lips as I glanced at my brothers.
“We doing this?” I whispered.
“Hell yes,” Joaquin said evenly, nodding.
“Damn straight,” Landon added. “We’ll deal with the council when we get back. But this?” He looked up at Emma — our perfect, fantasy girl come to life — and grinned. “I’m not letting this get away from us.”
“Emma Wright,” I said slowly, looking up into her eyes. “Will you—”
“—Marry,” Landon added.
“Us?” Joaquin finished, but he barely got the word out before she was screaming and throwing herself into our arms.
“Yes!”
She screamed it, again and again as she peppered our lips with kisses and let us pull her into our arms as we spun around.
The how, the when, the what — all of it could come later. But for now, well, we’d found it. We’d found the strength, the purpose, and the heart we’d ben looking for our whole lives.
And we were never, ever going to let her go.
Epilogue
Emma
The moan tumbles from my lips, pleasure melting through my core. My fingers drag over the bedsheets, pulling them into tightened fists. I gasp in ecstasy.
“There we go,” Joaquin growls into my ear, sending a shiver through me. “Moan for us, baby girl.”
He doesn’t even have to ask, it’s already rumbling up inside of me pushing through my lips.
The two tongues between my legs move faster, teasing me more and more and sending raw heat through my body. One — Landon’s, I think — drags wetly over my soft, slippery pussy lips, dragging my wetness up and over my clit. He fastens his lips around it, sucking gently as his tongue swirls the tender bud. I cry out, arching my back as the sensations leave me breathless.
Below him, Malcolm’s wicked tongue swipes across my asshole, making me shiver and writhe in bliss. He groans into my skin, his hand cupping the curve of my ass possessively as he licks me. His tongue pushes against my tight, unyielding ring, teasing it in slow, deliberate circles as I cry out.
“You want to come, don’t you?” Joaquin rumbles into my ear his hands slide over my body, cupping my jaw, my neck, and moving down to cup my breasts.
“Yes,” I cry out, my body trembling more and more as the inevitable explosion begins to well up inside.
Joaquin leans in, and his mouth closes around a nipple. He bites it, just enough to make me cry out, before his soothing tongue swirls over it.
Three gorgeous, incredible, perfect men, with three, amazing tongues, all on me at once.
Yeah, welcome to my world.
In the aftermath of everything that happened, a lot’s changed. I left the Revania Post, needless to say. It was a bittersweet parting, truth be told. But, I know I made the right choice. With all the shit that’d been going on behind the scenes there, the dwindling sales numbers, and then the collusion to commit treason thrown in, the place wasn’t long for this world anyways.
So instead of the meager position Martin had dangled in front of me, I aimed higher. When I moved here to Bellhaven, I started a new media corporation: The Bell. No bullshit celebrity gossip, no who-said what about who crap. It’s a whole paper dedicated to actual news and reporting about things that matter. And wouldn’t you know, people do want to read stuff like this. We don’t know for sure yet, but the paper has been shortlisted for three Pulitzer’s, with only a year on the books so
far.
Not bad, huh?
Back at the Revania Post, Martin was fired by the board, a decision that was only made even easier when about ten other female employees who worked there came forward with allegations of harassment. Oh, but my favorite is Simone. See, Martin was a sleazeball and a gross pervert. But Simone? Well, Simone did a whole lot worse than get fired.
Simone went to jail.
They had her on tape with the councilmen from Bellhaven conspiring against the brothers. My men aren’t vengeful guys, and they were actually willing to let her off with just signing the world’s most intense nondisclosure agreement and gag order concerning what she’d heard and seen. But when the parts of her taped conversations came to light where she voiced suggestions of actually physically hurting me in order to get to them?
Well, that was past the line for them. She’s not behind bars for life or anything, but it's going to be long enough to make sure she never works with media or journalism again.
She still had to sign those NDAs and gag orders, by the way.
Eventually, Julia, Anya, and I all put the pieces together, and realized what we all had in common: the Triple Crown Club. It’s funny that somehow, in that place of extreme decadence, all three of us found love, but I guess it just goes to show you never do know. We share a certain sisterhood now — all three of us being married to three men each.
It’s a brave new world out there, what can I say?
The two of them and their families are actually on their way to dinner right this moment, a thought I push away as the three wicked tongues sliding over my body and teasing the pleasure from my nerves move faster, and suck and lick harder. I moan loudly, my body tensing and my back arching off the bed. Six hands hold me down though. Six hands stroke every inch of my skin, and tease me, and spread my legs and cup my ass. And three incredible mouths tease, lick, nibble, suck, and tongue my most intimate of places, until I’m sure I’m going to explode.
Landon’s tongue flicks over my clit, Malcolm’s pushes deep into my ass, and Joaquin groans as his lips and teeth drag over my nipple.
And it’s all I can take.
I scream as the orgasm explodes through my body like wildfire. Every inch of my skin burns in ecstasy, and every muscle in my body tenses as the climax ripples through me. I gasp, writhing under their mouths until I have to push them away, gasping for air. The three of them move around me, holding me and touching me, stroking my skin until I can slowly start to breathe again and open my eyes.
It’s good to be queen.
Oh, right, that’s me now — the Queen of Bellhaven. After the council's attempt at blackmailing them, and worse once the investigation dug up more plots, the King brothers stopped waiting on a decision. They declared themselves a three-man council running the kingdom, and while in some countries that might be looked at badly, it wasn’t in Bellhaven. Hell, people were ecstatic about Nicolas King’s three sons finally running the show. And when they also announced their intentions to marry me — all three of them?
Well, let’s just say the four of us were worried about a whole lot of nothing. People didn’t care about our love life, they only cared that the country was in good, steady hands, and it was.
I start to reach for Landon and Malcolm, but they chuckle and push my hands away.
“They’re going to be here soon,” Malcolm grins, standing from the bed.
I pout, my eyes locked onto his thick cock as I wet my lips.
“Exactly why you need to get back here and slide that beautiful thing inside me quick, before they get here.”
Landon laughs, moving to kiss me.
“Greedy thing, aren’t you?”
“You’ve made an addict of me,” I giggle back.
The three of them stand though, and my pout only deepens.
“You are such teases!”
Joaquin laughs this time. “Teases? Remind me who the three guys are who just ran their tongues over every inch of your sweet little body for the last hour?”
I blush, biting my lip and arching my brow at him.
I do know they’re right though. Julia, Victor, Micah, and Luke, and Anya, Killian, Jace, and Dean, are seriously going to be arriving for dinner any minute now, and apparently, Micah’s been talking a big game that he can beat me in a chili cook-off.
Game on.
I groan as I pull myself from the enormous bed, but that groan turns to a moan as three big, muscled, gorgeous, and most importantly, naked men surround me.
“That said,” Malcolm purrs in my ear. “We’re not going to leave you totally hanging until after dinner.”
He grins, kissing me, before pulling away. He opens the bottom drawer on the bedside table and pulls something out before coming back.
“Spread your legs,” Landon growls into my ear, making me shiver. I do, and Malcolm kneels in front of me.
“Step in, gorgeous,” he murmurs, opening his hands to reveal a pair of scandalously lacy, delicate, red thong panties. I bite my lip, stepping one foot and then the other in. But when he starts to tug them up my legs, I suddenly notice something else about them.
“What are those?”
The men chuckle.
“Those, baby girl,” Joaquin purrs in my ear. He nods at the two smooth, silicone protrusions sticking out from the inside of the panties.
“Those are to tease you with, all through dinner.”
I gasp as Malcolm tugs them higher. He pauses, just enough to lean in and run his tongue up my slit and make me moan, before he pulls the thong up against me. I whimper as his and Landon’s fingers help insert the medium sized, phallic shaped object in the front of the panties into my slick pussy, pushing it until it’s deep inside. Joaquin’s hand slips down over my ass, pushing the smaller nub in the back of the panties against my ass. He pushes it in with a small pop, making me shiver. Malcolm stands, pulling the panties tight against me.
“Now, let’s finish getting dressed for dinner shall we?”
They grin, clearly enjoying the look on my face as they move to our big walk-in dressing room to start getting ready.
“Oh, and beautiful?”
Malcolm sticks his head out and holds something up in his hand.
“All three of us have one of these that we’ll be keeping in our pockets tonight.”
I arch a brow at him.
“And what do those do…oh.”
The vibrations catch me off guard. I moan in pleasure as the smooth toys deep in my pussy and my ass and nestled against my clit buzz to life, turning my whole body to jelly.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Totally serious,” Landon chuckles, stepping out dressed in jeans and a crisp white button down shirt now. He steps towards me and gathers me in his arms.
“I can’t wait to see you beat Micah in the chili contest, but mostly?”
He grins and leans close, his lips by my ear. I gasp as his hand move between my legs, stroking my pussy through the panties.
“But mostly, I can’t wait to see how fucking soaked you make these panties by the time we go to bed tonight.”
Our friends arrive, wine is opened, and great food is shared. We laugh, we crack jokes, and we talk more about starting families and the ways we’d all want our kids to be raised to be normal people despite being royalty. We open more wine, we stay up late. I beat Micah in the chili contest, but only barely. We eat the insanely decadent chocolate cake that Anya’s brought and play Cards Against Humanity until we’re laughing so hard we’re crying.
The Club is mentioned in passing, and while we all know our history there, we mostly ignore it now. After all, none of the guys are members anymore, and while I know Anya, Julia, and I are all glad the place exists, since it helped us find the loves of our lives, we’re okay moving forward from it.
Eventually, there are hugs, and claps on the backs, and sad goodbyes, and promises to do this again soon. Our friends leave, and they’re barely out the door before I squeal as six hands grab me and whisk
me upstairs to our bed.
Oh, and as to Landon’s curiosity from earlier, before dinner?
The answer, in case you’re wondering, is very.
Very very very wet.
The End.
Royally His
The dark, dangerous, mysterious, and possessive “Mr. X” runs the most exclusive club on the planet.
Young, innocent, and the daughter of his enemy - Princess Claire Tinsley wasn’t looking for trouble, but she’s about to find it with the last man she ever saw coming…
1
Xander
Control.
Dominance.
Obedience.
The words flashed like neon across my mind as my eyes narrowed in on her across the dark and smoky room. Those words and one more: mine.
My strong jaw clenched, my steel-gray eyes flashing fire as I followed her like a hawk following its prey across the club. Muscles — muscles older than most of the younger pricks in this place, but muscles that were stronger and more honed than any of those boys’ — tightened and coiled, ready to pounce. Blood pulsed through me, my suit feeling tighter around my shoulders and my chest. My hand bearing the jewel and crested ring of the club — not the one I was in, but my club — tightened on my glass of scotch. The other hand clenched the silvered cane in an iron grip.
I didn’t need the cane — not to walk around or anything like that. I was forty, not ninety. But the cane sent a message. The cane, the finery I dressed in, the ring on my finger, the peppered silver at my temples, and the hard look in my eyes. It was all part of who I was, and what I represented. It reminded younger, rich, pompous royal shitbags like the ones milling about me trying to preen and show off who really held power in this royal world.
It wasn’t the man who wore a crown on his head. No, the real power in this room was me — the man who wore three crowns on the ring on his finger.
The club — my club, was exclusive. People thought of places like the classy bar I was currently sipping scotch in as exclusive. But a place like this had nothing on my club.