It takes everything I've got not to smile when she opens the platinum box. It's morning, we're due in the car in about an hour, and my Princess is looking at an egg shaped remote-control vibrator custom designed for her pussy.

Her fingers tremble a little when she picks it up. She's eyeballing it like I just presented her with a stick of dynamite.

Hell, maybe I have. My cock certainly feels like it's going to explode in my pants while I'm watching her grasp it, hold it up, and turn that shocked little look on her face into total horror.

“I'm not using this in public. You're out of your fucking mind, Silas.”

“Yeah? Then why are you holding it like you're already in love?” I smile, sit down on the bed next to her, and put my hand over hers. Our fingers both close around the cool, sterile gold, made to get her hotter than an incoming meteor when I crank it to high.

“No, just – no!” She says it again, shaking her sweet head, desperately trying to push my hand away with the device in it.

I don't let her. “Take a chance on it, love. Let yourself have a little excitement. I saw how nervous you looked yesterday, in the gardens, when I mentioned our outing. Believe me, with this thing in, you'll be too busy coming to think about all the eyes on you.”

“Bad idea! All of it.” She manages to wrestle out of my grasp, jumping up, pacing around the bedroom. “It really shouldn't surprise me what a crude psycho you can be, but for some reason it does.”

I clench the small metal object harder in my hand. Can't stop thinking about it wedged in her sweet cunt, shaking between her legs, making her soak everything she's wearing underneath that fancy formal dress.

It's thinner and more modern than the one she had to wear to meet grandmom. Perfect for hiding what I'm doing to her from everybody with a camera, while it shows me everything.

“Look, if you're dead set against it, I won't make you,” I say, standing up.

“Like you could!” Erin sticks her tongue out.

Ah, a challenge. Fuck me.

My hand twitches for another reason. I want to spank that ass raw. For a split second, I think about pulling out my phone, calling Vic, and canceling the whole event.

Unfortunately, the interests of the kingdom and my ten inch cock are often quite different. I swear I can hear the world's smallest violin playing a sad song.

“Babe, take it.” I step up, pushing it into her hand. I'll risk her throwing it through the wall, or maybe at my head. “Go. Finish getting dressed. I'll let you decide whether you want to slip that thing in, or leave it on the bathroom counter.”

Her cheeks glow rosy. It's a conflicted, reddish flush spreading across her face when she stares at the filthy toy in her hand before she looks up at me, her brows furrowed.

“I can't believe you're thinking about sex again on the day we have a second chance to get this right.”

“Funny. I can't believe you think I'd rather be thinking about anything else. Especially when you're folding your arms, pushing your tits in my face, reminding me that I want to shred that fucking dress and have you against the wall.”

My dick's doing the talking now. As usual, I'm at a loss to shut him up.

“I have to get ready,” she says, briskly spinning around.

As soon as the bathroom door closes, I let myself smile. I'd bet my whole fortune she's wetter than she wants to be.

What are the odds I won't see my gift abandoned on the counter if I look in there before we head out?

I'm still crunching the numbers in my head, trying to distract my rampaging cock, when she finally steps out. The ladies assigned to help her dress this morning are gone at my orders, and I'm relieved to see she can handle the entire outfit herself.

Wait, handle it? No, she looks good. Sexy. Divine.

Good enough to eat my fill. My cock aches in tune with my lips, hungry to get her naked, spread her legs, and lick her hard and deep. I want to make this girl squirt on my face, and taste her own cream on my lips when I fuck her senseless.

“Well? How do I look?” she says, a husky edge in her voice that isn't helping me calm down.

“Like a Princess should,” I say, standing.

She smiles, calling me to walk on over and embrace her. There's a knock at our door just then.

“Your Highness, the men are performing the last security check on the motorcade. Everything's ready, at your convenience.”

“Thanks. We'll be out in just a minute.”

Not enough time to satisfy my evil desires. Just enough to kiss her, grab her ass, and realize there's one more thing I have to do before we leave.

“Go on, love. I'll be out in just a second. Need to make a quick pit stop.”

I head for the bathroom. While I'm there, I let my eyes wander to the counter.

No sign of anything there. I'm washing my hands while I let my foot slide to the pedal on the small steel trashcan.

The lid lifts up, and I see the hottest thing in my life after Erin's naked skin.

Nothing. It's empty, which means...fuck.

Fuck yes.

The small, secret remote I've got concealed in my pocket burns like my pistol used to in Afghanistan.

Today just got a lot more exciting, and it's got nothing to do with playing head of state.

* * *

“Here we go,” I say, grabbing her hand as the car slowly rolls forward, perfectly positioned between two jet black SUVs with flashing lights.

She looks at me and smiles. Bashful. She knows that I know what's in her pussy by now, but she doesn't have a clue my words have double meaning.

Here we go, princess. Here we fucking go, and we're not stopping until you've come so hard you won't walk straight.

My thumb burns like mad, hovering over the little wheel that controls the intensity of the earthquake she's about to feel. I've already turned it on, as soon as Victor gave me the thirty second countdown, before our convertible started moving.

He's in the passenger seat next to our driver, eyes roaming like a sheepdog, making sure every little detail goes according to plan. He won't have a spare second to notice what's happening to my Princess in the back seat, next to me.

Seeing the city center with throngs of bystanders is nothing new. Having a woman riding next to me while I own everything that happens between her legs for the next hour or two is.

My finger nudges the switch. Erin's eyelids flutter, and she leans back in her seat, not even noticing the rows of people waving hysterically all around us. We're into the thick of it now. Christ, there must be thousands, all of them here to show their support for the royal family.

The speakers across the city start blasting King of All Things. My dick throbs to the heavy drumbeats and clashing cymbals like it's saluting the kingdom's anthem.

“You doing all right, love?” I ask, grasping her hand.

She barely nods. My signal to crank the power higher.

“Oh, God.” I can't hear her over the crowd screaming, but I know it's the only thing on her lips when they open up, form a perfect ring, and tell me I'm bringing her O closer.

I have to look away for a few seconds before I shoot off in my pants. Besides, the cameras are rolling. I sit up as tall as I can in the seat, waving to the people, giving them my very best princely salute.

I've watched my grandmom and my great grandfather do it a thousand times in old movies. My hand moves up and waves, every movement carefully choreographed. The people lining the streets swoon with the prince and future king so close.

Men and women alike. I think some of the girls are about to faint, visibly leaning into their friends and husbands for support when I flash them my smile.

It's boring. The only woman I want to see losing her mind is already next to me, ready to go over the edge as soon as I twist the dial higher.

And I do.

“Silas – oh!” I read her lips again. She's leaning back in her seat now, her hips squirming like mad.

Can't resist putting my hand on her thigh and squeezing it hard. I stare her down in between smiling at the crowd, throttling the controls back. Just enough to leave her on the precipice.

“You don't come until I say you do,” I growl, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

She looks at me like she wants to sink a knife in my throat. Smiling, I suppress a laugh, wondering what the media jackasses are capturing right now through their lenses. The video online later ought to be very interesting.

We turn the corner, circling the next street, rolling down another double row of people screaming at us like we're rock stars about to bang out their favorite tune.

Everyone except one asshole, anyway.

A big, surly bastard in a trench coat rushes my car, hate twisted on his face. Secret service acts fast. I see them throw the fucker down on the pavement, a boot pressed firmly in his back. His sign slips out of his hands and hits the curb, right-side up.

NO MORE GREED.

NO MORE LIES.

NO MORE KING.

I don't even bat an eye at the ridiculous slogans written there in thick black ink. I turn to Erin, wondering if he scared her, but she's in another world. She's balls deep in pleasure, lost there so deeply she's forgotten what pain and fear mean.

She's simply gorgeous. I pause, taking a good, long look, before I decide how I'm going to bring her off for good. Squirming, bucking her hips shallowly in her seat, desperately trying to milk the last burst of pleasure in the toy that sends her over the edge.

“What did I tell you, Princess? Can you hear me?” I say softly, placing my hand over hers.

“You're killing me. Please, Silas. Please.”

“Please what?” I smile, wondering how filthy and crazy she can get when she really wants it.

“I'm not going to...I can't fucking say it. God, you're a bastard!”

Guilty as charged. My thumb slides across the little wheel in my pocket, but only for a split second, teasing with such sharp vibrations I'm sure she can feel it in her clit.

My dick leaks more pre-come in my pants. I hope like hell there isn't an improved press conference after this. The entire kingdom is going to see my hard-on if I don't get a chance to fuck her first.

“Sire, Mister Nelson from the Daily Eagle is just ahead,” Vic cuts in. “We'll do our very best not to let him get too close, but you know how aggressive he can be.”

Yeah, I do. The motherfucker ambushed me last year in my own nightclub, dancing with no less than Serena when I was drunk off my ass. The rumors that hit the press the next day didn't help me, or my secretary's ridiculous crush.

“Let him come up,” I tell my chief.

“Your Highness?” He looks behind him in the seat, both his eyebrows raised.

“You heard me. We have nothing to hide.”

Slowly, he turns back around, and whispers something into the radio to security. Perfect timing. I see Nelson's giddy, goateed face staring from the curb. The idiot steps out onto the asphalt with two assistants, all their cameras flashing.

That's when I throw my arm around Erin, pull her close, and smash my lips down on hers.

Sometimes, the only way to tame a tiger is to give the damned thing its red meat. I'm giving him exactly what he wants – the photo of a lifetime. Serving up huge, juicy steaks with this kiss, so hot and sudden I think we're going to set our custom made Rolls-Royce convertible on fire.

Her sweet, dark eyes are narrow. Lids half shut. Begging.

Not yet, beautiful, I tell her with my kiss. You don't get it unless I see how bad you want it.

Show me.

Her desperation tastes incredible. When I try to break the kiss so I can smile to my subjects some more, she doesn't let me. Erin throws her little hands around my neck, digs her nails into my skin, and bites my lower lip.

Fuck, doesn't she know I'm going to bite back harder? We're practically stripping off our clothes and fucking in the seat before it's over. I wonder if I can shut down the bullet shoved inside her, make her come with just my kiss.

It's goddamned tempting, if only it wouldn't ruin all the fun.

I have to break the kiss. Have to, before I roll around, push between her legs, and take her in broad daylight in front of several million people.

I've always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, certainly, but even I'm not that big a freak.

I'm winded when I break away, settling reluctantly back into my seat.

My tension has nothing on hers, though. Erin has her eyes pinched shut, gently bobbing her hips, after the leverage she needs for sweet release.

My heart starts pounding. The car rolls on, reminding me I'm the sole heir to an entire kingdom someday. Lesser men would swell up and prance like peacocks at the prospect.

Not me. With Erin on the brink of coming next to me, it's nothing.

I'm not after power over anyone except her, and her next O. My fingertip burns against the remote, stuffed into my pocket, while I look back across the crowd and wave with my very best.

A few more Republic First disruptors go down when they come for the motorcade, tackled by my boys. A couple thousand more people get my smile, my wink, my grey gloved hand waving their way with grace and reassurance.

I don't have the soft, motherly air Her Majesty brings. But I can tell the people I won't let them down. They're safe, happy, and prosperous with me, whatever the media jackals and the protesters say.

“Sire, the King Winston bridge is coming up next. Several ministers there from the EU, China, and India are waiting. They're scheduled to meet you after the parade, as planned, and we've given them one of the best spots in the city to observe your arrival.”

“Of course. Wonderful work, Victor.” I see him glowing in the rear view mirror.

That pride's starting to rub off on me, but not because I give a damn about the old, robotic diplomats waiting to shake my royal hand. Slowly, I turn to Erin, a smile creeping across my lips when I see the sweat building on her brow.

She's dying to come. Lucky her, I'm finally going to make it happen, just as soon as the dignitaries are in sight.

I slide across the seat, coiling one hand around her shoulder. “I'm going to kiss you, love, and you're going to give it up. All of it.”

“Silas, God yes...please.”

Please. Fuck, now she's showing me.

Holy shit. Her big brown eyes are huge, pleading, completely mine. She's still begging, and I'm worried I'm going to lose it in my trousers when I bring her off like I promised.

Fuck it. My free hand slips into my pocket while the other tightens on her shoulder, squeezing her so hard it should hurt ever-so-slightly. I clench my jaw, rolling my thumb against the wheel, just as I see the tall, shadowy figures of men and women in fine suits standing on the huge stone bridge.

“You can't look at me like that, Princess,” I whisper, hearing a moan slip out her mouth. “You keep that up, you're going to make me fall in love. Don't, for both our sakes. I don't know how to deal in hearts – only in the best fucking sex you'll ever have in your life.”

I'm sweating like mad, saying shit I know I shouldn't. Don't know whether it's my slip up or my finger gliding across the wheel that sends her into heaven. The wheel cranks as far as it can, making me think I can hear the little toy vibrating inside her when we pass through a quiet break in the crowd.

“Oh. My. God...Fuck!” Those are the only four words I can make out when I feel her start shaking.

She clenches my suit, hangs on for dear life. She comes, harder than I've ever seen her explode. My head leans on hers, pushing her mouth to my wrist. I let her bite it so she won't scream while the tsunami I've unleashed in her body sweeps her into another world.

“You're bad for me, Princess,” I tell her, hoping my dick won't rip through my trousers just watching this. “Look at you. Coming for me, coming like mad, soaking the fucking seat in front of all these ministers and ambassadors. I ought to pull you down on my throne, and spank your hot little ass until you scream.”

She squeals against my skin. Rocking in her seat, gushing underneath that dress, coming until she can't even breathe.

It's too much – for everyone. My dick barely holds onto the fire raging in my balls.

Vic clears his throat in the front seat, and the idea of being discovered back here throws cold water on my desire for a split second.

My eyes shift off the beautiful woman twitching next to me. He's talking into his radio, not looking back at us in the mirror, thank fuck.

I don't start turning down the intensity until she whimpers. Then my lips smash down on hers, sucking whatever pleasure I can from her mouth, awed by the burn of her teeth marks on my wrist.

What the hell is happening? Playing pretend isn't supposed to be this wild.

It's a fake engagement to a fake wife, and the f-word is sounding extra hollow the more it's said.

Fake, fake, fake. Fuck.

Fake isn't supposed to bring my cock to the brink. Fake damned sure isn't supposed to make me admire every inch of her when she's buried in her orgasm. Fake definitely isn't kissable when she comes down from it, looks up at me, and sucks my eyes into hers with a single blink.

I'm starting to freak out, but I don't show it. I just kiss her harder, until she stops moving, and I make sure the remote is turned to off.

“Time to stop playing slut and do Princess again,” I say, taking her hand as I sit back in my seat.

“Really? You haven't realized how talented I am yet?” Erin sticks her tongue out for a split second. “I was born to multi-task.”

“Careful, babe. The cameras are watching every second.”

Absurd advice, after I just gave her one of the best orgasms in her life on film, and we both know it. She looks at me, smiling, shaking her beautiful head.

“You're so ridiculous. Did you mean what you said about love?” Her tone turns more serious. “When we were in the heat of the moment, I mean...”

I don't know. I'm about to wiggle my way into some wishy-washy, half-assed escape when royal duty sweeps in to save me.

Our car stops. Erin's passenger door pops open, and I see her valet standing there, holding the door. “They're waiting next to the conference center, at your convenience, Your Highness.”

She flashes me another quizzical look just before we slide out. I've bought myself some time, but she isn't going to let this go.

I never should've ran my mouth. Hell, I should've kept the strange thoughts and feelings from invading me, speaking their evil out loud.

Meeting these ministers and smiling pretty for the cameras might be the easiest thing I do all day. Who knew making this woman come her brains out in the riskiest, hottest way ever would have such a steep price?

Her touch doesn't betray anything when I take her arm. About a dozen dignitaries stand at attention, waiting for us at the end of the bridge, next to the conference venue.

Most of them bow when we approach. The others shake hands. One big Russian diplomat I've met before lets his gaze linger on my wrist too long.

“I trust you're in...good health, Your Highness?”

I smile, slipping my hand into my pocket, hiding the reddish impressions Erin's little teeth have left in my skin. “Never better, Sergei. Too much rock climbing last week in the highlands.”

He nods enthusiastically. “Da, da. They used to bring us to the Urals for training in the army. Amazing how the mountains look so beautiful, but cut so deep, no?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. He doesn't have a fucking clue.

* * *

Several hours of trade talks and a dinner fit for a Roman emperor later, we're back at the palace. I've passed the dignitaries off to the kingdom's trade minsters to iron out the fine print on several new agreements.

Technically, it isn't royalty's role to get involved in politics, or make any real decisions like this for the nation. In practice, we've been charming the best and brightest from all over the world to see things our way for at least a hundred years.

Erin hasn't said much since dinner. I saw her drinking lots of water, barely touching the champagne, which tells me the gift I gave her in the car practically sucked her soul out. Or at least half the water molecules in her sweet skin.

Best of all, I'm not done yet. Far from it.

Next time, we'll come together, and I'll banish this painful swelling between my legs that's been taunting me all evening.

“So, we're staying here tonight? Not going back to the castle?”

I shake my head. “Not while I'm in charge. You slept like a baby in the chamber last night anyway, love.”

She doesn't deny it. I can say the same thing, really, which is weird.

I haven't felt so at home in the palace since my parents were still around. Before I was old enough to realize the picture perfect days they gave me as a boy were lies. Before those days became hellish nights where they fought late into the darkness, storming off to separate rooms when they were finally exhausted...

My old place at the castle has lost its charm, and it's not just because I'm effectively head of state with grandmom in the hospital.

I think about my old club downstairs, the parties I hosted in the huge lounge, endlessly stocked with fine scotch and even finer women.

It doesn't do shit for me. Something's changed big time, because nothing does it anymore.

Nothing except getting Erin Warwick naked, sweaty, and moaning even touches my crank.

She pulls ahead of me, holding my hand, making her way to the big staircase that will take us up to our room. I stop her right there.

“Hold up. I have a detour in mind,” I say softly, taking her in the opposite direction.

My dick jerks. I'm crazy for doing this, but when will I get another chance?

I can't ignore the fantasy I had in the car while I teased her pussy raw. Fucking her in the throne room, the holiest, most taboo place possible, where there's always bound to be somebody around.

Except for tonight because I have an idea.

We walk quickly, and I guide her through the ancient passages, careful to avoid the places where I think the guards are likely to be on night patrol. Erin's eyes go wide when we're stopped, standing in front of the huge handcrafted door. Two honor guards come to attention and salute.

“At ease. I'd like to show my lady the throne room while there's some peace and quiet. We won't be long.”

“Aye aye, Your Highness.”

My greedy grip tightens on her hand. She knows what's coming – both of us, naked and grunting like animals while we fuck on gold and gemstones. Completely surrounded in the luxurious rapture that can't be duplicated anywhere else.

I won't get another chance like this for years, maybe decades. Her Majesty will be home soon. If the day comes when I'm King, there will always be someone posted inside, waiting for my royal ass to get parked in the seat and take care of business.

It's the first time I've been inside it by myself since I was a kid. I look around, letting out the slightest whistle when the huge doors behind us slam shut.

The fire isn't even lit. I have to walk over to the fireplace myself and start the gas.

There's no Patricia, no Victor, no foreign emissary in shock and awe from standing in front of the richest royal family in the world.

There's nobody. Just the ghosts of everybody who ever wore this crown, probably staring in horror at what I'm about to do. Maybe a few of my ancestors from the middle ages are cheering me on – the old Kings were notorious bastards, scoundrels who'd fuck the finest woman in every village in between their dirty orgies.

“So, why are we here?” She says nervously. Like she doesn't already know.

I turn, taking her into my arms, pressing my lips to hers for a good, long minute. “We're here tonight because of what I said in the car.”

Staring, she cocks her head. It's adorable, and it really fucking shouldn't be.

I let out a long sigh. “Look, love, I've never been great with words. Actions mean more. If a man can't show you what he means, what good is he?”

I take her hand, lead her over to the huge golden chair in the center. My butt hasn't touched the ridiculously comfy burgundy cushion since I was twelve years old, but now it does.

I sink down, feeling lightning roll up my back, pulling Erin onto my lap. My hands roam her curves, doing circles on her thighs, resisting the urge to rip right through that dress she has on.

“You can't be serious!” she whispers sharply. “Silas, of all the things you've done, this is too much. We can't get caught – I can't. You're not telling me anything. Why are we here?”

“Like you don't already know, love. I haven't been in this room informally for years,” I say, quickening my circles on her legs. Her thighs shift open, and my cock pulses again. “I was a little shit in my early teens.”

“You? Never.” She rolls her eyes, pushing playfully against my chest.

I catch her wrists with my free hands. Pulling her closer, we kiss before I continue my story. I'm not sure where the hell it's going, considering the blood rushing to my temples, making me hear the heartbeat that's pounding in my balls.

It's hard to think about anything except how bad I want my cock in my Princess.

“I snuck down here with a smoke bomb when I was a kid. Thought I'd throw it in the fireplace and let the white smoke roll out the palace chimney, get it thick over the city, in mom's memory. It was about a year after she died. Got the idea from watching the Pope being elected, watching the white smoke roll out the Vatican. That fucking counselor they hired, I wouldn't tell him anything. Words wouldn't help me then, and neither would any shrink. Thought I could remind myself and remind the country she isn't really gone, as long as we remember.”

She blinks raw emotion. “That's a little more touching than I expected. So, what happened?”

“It was the wrong kind of smoke bomb. The damned thing detonated in the fireplace and blew the glass doors to hell. Guards rushed in, thinking it was a terrorist. I never heard the end of it from dad, my nanny, and the prick who kept hounding me to talk through my feelings.”

“That prick might've been right,” she says, moving a finger up my chest. “You can drop the asshole act sometimes, Your Highness. I know there's more to you now than what they show in the tabloids.”

“Yeah, you'd better, after we've been more than skin deep.” My hands go straight to her ass underneath that dress, squeezing.

Christ, she looks like an angel. She's soft, smiling, and teasing me the way my cock loves.

“With some things, words aren't enough. What good does it do to tell you I'm deadly, crazy serious about all that crap I said in the car? That it wasn't just my dick doing the talking?”

Her eyes are huge now. I hug her tighter, dragging her fully into me on the throne, until our foreheads are as close as our lips.

“It's getting real between us, Erin. So goddamned real it's the only thing I taste, think, and feel when I'm able to. Or, hell, maybe when I'm supposed to be paying attention to everything else that comes with being heir to this throne.”

“Silas...”

My name comes out in such a low whisper, I wonder if she knows what the hell to say. I don't give us a chance to find out. I reach up, press my finger snug over her lips, and keep on speaking.

“I know what you are. You're a walking, talking, cock-teasing risk, Princess. The biggest one I've ever wanted in my life. I could waste the next few hours telling you all about my feelings. Or, we can do it my way, and I can show you just how far I'm willing to go. Don't know yet if your pussy's magic, or what, but I know I can't let it go. I won't. Not for fucking anything.”

Show me. Her eyes are screaming for it, begging with the same intensity they did in the car when I teased her to the edge of her O.

I'm going to push her right off that cliff a few more times tonight.

My finger drops away and my hand goes behind her head. We kiss in sweet, sexy silence, filling the void with passion.

A woman shouldn't taste this good. I can't get that honey richness out of my mouth when my lips own hers again and again.

My other hand paws at her breasts, angrily tugging on the fabric, rolling her nipple through the layers. She leans back while I hold her. Moaning, struggling for breath, already grinding her hips on mine.

My dick's been denied all day, and he won't take a second more of this. Gently lifting her off my lap, I lower her onto her knees. She goes down like a good girl, reaching for my cock the instant I start working the zipper.

“Suck.” It's one word, beautiful as it is filthy. “Suck me so dry I can't even see straight, Princess.”

Cool air surrounds my free cock for about two seconds before it's bathed in her silky, intoxicating warmth. Scotch on an empty stomach wouldn't hit my brain half as hard as this.

I'm grunting, clenching the arms of the throne, while my swollen head disappears behind her lips. She's been paying attention during the last few times I've let her do it.

Her tongue teases me before moving in for the kill. Erin pulls me in, moaning on my length, bobbing her head up and down, until my balls are about to pop.

Faster. Hotter. More tongue swirls around my massive cock, focused on that sweet spot underneath my tip.

I can't help myself. My hips start moving ragged in her face, fucking her mouth as hard and deep as I can without hurting her.

She loves it. I can see her nipples through the dress, hard and pleading, aching for my mouth as much as my cock begs for hers.

“Jesus. Erin, baby, you're going to make me –“

I never get it out. She starts pumping my thick base with one hand, reaching up with the other to pull on my tie. It's so fucking hot and possessive I lose it on the spot, especially when she slams her face down on my dick, pulling me in halfway, teasing me with that glorious tongue.

Fuck!

Her pressure doubles when I start groaning. I'm leaning back in my family's throne, grinding my teeth like sandpaper. I'm coming.

Fire spits out my balls and my whole damned spine goes electric.

This was my idea, yeah, but I can't believe it's actually happening. I'm coming so hard I see stars for at least the next minute, watching my seed spill out her mouth. Her little hand catches the excess before it spills on her top, giving us away once we step outside.

It's so intense, so good. I jerk her up as soon as the wild spasms in my dick soften.

I'm not done yet. I have to fuck her again, right fucking now, or else I'm going to do something worse.

What's worse? Something outrageous, like saying the dreaded L-word.

Yeah, Prince Silas Bearington III is losing his mind, but he hasn't gone so batshit insane he's letting himself say I love you to a Princess who was just pretend a few weeks ago.

My hands tear at her furiously, helping her out of that dress. She's never looked more beautiful than she does now, naked before me, bathed in the golden glow reflecting on the amber walls.

“Tell me you're on something so we can fuck like we should.”

“Yes. IUD. I've had it the whole time,” she whispers.

Everything I need to hear. It's an invitation to her bare pussy. It's all I can tolerate as I jerk her up, tearing down my pants, bringing her on my cock.

My hard-on never fades. It needs more, it needs her, right fucking now, or else I'm going to start climbing the walls and swinging from the two hundred year old crystal chandelier above us.

She grabs the high seat of the throne behind me for leverage when I start pumping in and out. It's hell stopping ourselves from the moaning, the groaning, the screaming. The door looks like it's as thick as a vault, supposedly soundproof for royal happenings in here, but even I'm not crazy enough to test it, bellowing as loud as I can.

I grab her hair, wrap it around my hands, and pull those chestnut locks tight. I swallow every little noise leaving her mouth.

A dozen strokes in, she's coming. She's so hot, so responsive to every thrust inside her, it's like she was made for me.

A thought so ludicrous it turns me into a fucking maniac. Maybe a maniac fucking.

I don't know who I am or what I'm doing, buried in her to the hilt, moving her hips up and down my cock with a speed that defies gravity. Her gorgeous tits are flopping from my chest to my face each time she moves. My palm slaps her ass several times, forcing her on faster.

Faster, goddammit! I won't stop until we've blown out every circuit in our bodies. Not before we're drunk and stupid and so sated on pleasure I'll have to request help just to carry us out.

I'm surprised I last as long as I do. All the stamina I've built up over the years is about half what it should be when I'm fucking this woman.

She's in the middle of her second climax, clutching my shoulders, tearing her lips off mine and arching her back, when magma churns in my balls. I can't stop it. Don't even fucking try.

“Keep coming, love. Keep coming on this dick that owns you, the one you've been waiting for your whole life. Come the fuck with me!”

Erin cries out, losing control, and so do I. I don't think about the noise or the guards or anything else.

I'm too busy shooting every damned drop up her bare, clenching pussy this time, pouring my royal seed in her womb.

I can't worry about anything outside us, except how fucking right this feels. I'm coming inside her, coming in my Princess, coming so rough I can't roar loudly enough to drown out the thunder roaring through my body.

Even when it's over, with my come pouring out of her, I don't pull out. My cock stays hard while the rest of me is spent. My arms hold her against my chest, one hand rifling through her hair. I need to touch it, smell it, bury my nose in it to bring myself back to earth.

“Silas...do you think they heard us?” She gestures to the door behind her, wiggling her ass, tempting me all over again.

“If they did, it was worth it. I don't give a damn if we end up on social media tomorrow with our bare asses hanging out in this room. That kind of sex is worth it. You're worth it, love.”

Smiling, she looks at me with those irresistible brown eyes, and kisses me again. “I thought you were insane before.”

“You don't anymore? Guess we're making serious progress.”

“No,” she says, her cheeks flushing red. “I'm starting to understand. And I think...maybe...this could become more than pretend.”

So do I. I've confessed too much today to say it.

But she knows exactly what I mean when our lips connect for the thousand time, salty and sweet as ever. We fuck two more times before we finally clean ourselves up as best we can and step out.

I nod to the guards. They return my salute, staring ahead like statues, just as they've been trained.

We're taking the stairs slowly, one by one, up to our room. The men back there don't show any signs they've noticed anything. I hope they've heard us the entire time, as twisted as it is.

Sex like ours, in that room, is once in a lifetime. Fuck secrets.

What we have is so exquisite, it deserves witnesses.