Chapter 5

Edward

Gwen is far too good at giving a hand job for a girl who claims to have no experience, but the sweetness in her eyes tells me that it’s the truth.

All the better for me, I guess. Her little virgin hands can service my royal cock any day of the week.

I’ll be damned if that roach of a fiancé is getting anywhere near Gwen after this.

I want to take her, make her come, violate her—all of her—now.

I bring my head down and move my hand to the side to gently lick Gwen’s clit over her panties. The drenched silk is smooth and delicious against my tongue.

Gwen whimpers. “I thought we were past teasing like that?”

“I’ll be done when I say so. I’m the king, after all.”

Gwen can’t continue jerking me off with my head between her legs, but that suits me just fine for now. I’m shockingly close to coming, and I’m not ready to, not yet.

If I come, I want to come inside Gwen’s tight, virginal cunt.

She wants to play with the king? Then she can give me an heir to seal the deal.

Gwen lets out a noise of surprise as I pick her up and kneel on the throne, flinging her legs around my shoulders. The headboard of the throne supports her back, but she runs her hands through my hair, twisting strands through her fingers, too.

“What are you—” Gwen begins, but her words are cut off as she gasps in response to me as I put my whole mouth against her pussy, lips and tongue teasing her hungrily.

All still through her panties.

“Edward!”

I know she’d love nothing better than for me to rip them off—as would I—but that takes the fun out of it.

Vaguely, in the background, I can hear the bustling crowd in the next room go quiet as my adviser, Cecil, announces me to the stage.

Ah, shit. I’ve forgotten all about that.

Throwing caution to the wind, and knowing I don’t have much time to continue being absent from my own party, I quite literally rip Gwen’s panties away, much to her delight.

“Brace yourself, Princess,” I mutter quickly up at her, which is rewarded with a perfectly manicured eyebrow arch from Gwen.

I erase that presumptuous look from her face as my tongue swirls over her clit again and again.

Gwen’s fingers entwine harder into my hair, and my cock throbs painfully. I bring one hand down to stroke myself to relieve the pressure.

Not having sex has never felt so good.

My tongue moves a little further down to explore the entrance to Gwen’s pussy, lapping up her delicious juices as she gasps and squirms beneath my mouth.

I gently nibble her clit before returning my tongue to it, increasing the pressure and intensity until Gwen is crying out for me.

“Edward, Edward, Edward, fuck me, please…”

But I know there’s no time for that, not with an expectant crowd just behind the door.

Instead, I work even harder on her clit, squeezing my hand around my cock all the more to contain my desperate need to fuck her.

Behind us, Cecil announces my name once more, even as Gwen is calling it out, too, insistent and begging and sensual as hell.

I suck on her clit, eliciting a low, drawn-out moan from Gwen, and I know she’s mere seconds away from coming in my mouth.

Cecil announces my name a third time, in a tone that is most definitely saying, Edward, I know you can hear me, so get your royal ass on stage.

He’s been my advisor for a long, long time, and he knows me far too well.

Tugging away faster at myself as I feel my own climax approaching, I bring my other hand up to help out with Gwen’s, sliding a suggestive finger up into her pussy. It’s exactly what’s needed to send her over the edge.

Her legs tighten around my shoulders as I let her back down onto the throne as she cries out in pleasure. I remove my mouth from her pussy to stand above her once more.

“You’re going to go through the rest of the party with my cum dripping down your leg, and you’re going to fucking like it.”

As I rub my cock against her inner thigh, bringing myself to climax and sending sticky, white liquid all up her leg, I hear the door behind us opening.

Quickly re-buttoning my pants as Gwen fixes her dress, I turn around to see who has interrupted us as I wipe the back of my hand against my mouth.

It’s Cecil, of course.

“If you are quite ready, Your Highness,” Cecil remarks, a concealed smirk on his face demonstrating that he knows exactly what I was doing.

“I think I can manage a speech on stage now, Cecil,” I grin back, smoothing my hair as I turn back towards Gwen.

I hold my hand out to her.

“I think it’s time to tell our adoring public about a change in plans, love.”

She flashes me the widest, most mischievous smile I’ve ever seen, and despite the raised eyebrows from Cecil, we make our way past him as we vacate the throne room and waltz up onto the stage in the dance hall to rapturous applause.

I glance down at Gwen’s thighs, knowing that my cum is slowly making its way down the long lengths of her beautiful legs even as we stand here.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” I begin, facing the crowd. “My loyal subjects, I know you’re all here for the official announcement of my engagement. Well,” I throw a meaningful look at Gwen’s way, which she returns, “though the purpose of this party has not changed, the subject of it has.”

I take a breath.

“Allow me to introduce my fiancée…Princess Gwen! I’m certain that you shall find her a gracious, fiery, intelligent, and beautiful queen.”

There’s a stunned silence as people take the news in—most people in the audience already knew the names of our actual fiancés—well, ex-fiancés.

But then I grab hold of Gwen, spin her around and tilt her down to kiss her, much to the audience’s delight. Everyone loves a spectacle, after all.

When I break away from Gwen, she smiles beautifully for me and then for the audience.

I can see it instantly. They’re completely sold on her, on us. After all, who can resist a pair of young, beautiful monarchs?

We’ll be all over the tabloids for weeks, going by the incessant flashes of the press cameras in front of the stage.

Hand in hand, Gwen and I make our way down the stairs from the stage to the dance floor, Gwen figuratively glowing as people clamor around us to voice their congratulations.

I’m going to marry Gwen, and everyone loves it.

It’s the most excitement I’ve ever felt for my role as king—and all because of Gwen.

I look at her out of the corner of my eye.

Oh, the unspeakable things I plan on doing to her once the party is over. I’ll cancel all meetings for the next few days, lock her up in my room, and fuck her for so long and so hard that she won’t be able to curtsy.

She won’t have to curtsy at all anymore once I make her my queen.

I turn to face Gwen and kiss her hard, both for the benefit of the cameras and to hide my now-raging boner.

She flings her arms around my neck and reciprocates enthusiastically, much to the delight of the photographers.

I know that there will be people who dislike this engagement—hell, I can feel several pairs of eyes lurking by the door glaring at me already—her brother’s among them—but I’m too content to care.

Gwen is going to be mine, officially and irrefutably mine.

And the general public approves.

As far as scandals go, this one’s going on delightfully.

And not just because I know that, even as the flash photography and well-wishing commence, my cum is still dripping down Gwen’s leg and pooling in her dance shoes either—although that fucking helps.