Princess Josephine is fucking delicious. I’ve thought a thousand times about tasting her sweet nectar, about licking and tongue-fucking her until she came, but it’s even better than I thought it could be.

Fuck, I didn’t even eat her out. I’m just licking her juices from my fingers while she watches, still so fucking hard I think my cock could break a cinderblock in half.

“Answer me, Princess,” I whisper.

“Yes,” she says, her voice barely audible.

I turn her around and kiss her hard. I know I taste like her but I want her to taste herself on my lips, to know how much I like devouring her.

This might be the first time, but it won’t be the last.

“Good,” I say. “Because I’ve got every intention of doing it again and again. Princess, I’m going to make you come in ways you’ve never even thought of.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep the darkness inside in check.

Just because she let you get her off in the garden doesn’t mean she’ll like anything else, I remind myself.

Go slow. You have to go slow, because sweet Josephine doesn’t deserve to experience it all at once.

But now she’s looking at me again, her eyes wide and innocent but with that unnameable hunger deep inside, the spark that catches something inside me and burns my body from the inside out.

She didn’t have to do any of this. She didn’t have to let me kiss her, touch her, make her come while two people stood just feet away.

But she did. She did and she liked it, her juices flowing over my fingers and down her legs, her body trembling and jerking as she came hard, and now I crave her even more.

Princess Josephine runs one hand down my chest, her hand small and delicate and gentle, sliding between two buttons on my shirt, but I catch her wrist.

“Not now,” I tell her, still keeping my voice low. “Now you go back to your bedchamber.”

“But you didn’t—“

“Go,” I tell her, and step around her to open the bushes for her, holding back the sharp thorns and branches.

Reluctantly, the princess — my princess — steps through, back onto the moonlit path. She takes a deep breath, then finally seems to collect herself, looking around like she’s been dreaming.

“It was lovely to run into you, Prince Leo,” she finally says, and curtsies neatly.

“Likewise, a pleasure,” I say, and bow.

Just before we walk in opposite directions, our eyes lock.

And I swear my sweet, innocent princess is smiling.

* * *

The second I’m through the door of my chambers, I’ve got my cock out and in my hand, and I lean back against the shut door as I stroke it.

Jesus, it’s a relief. It’s not what I want, but it’s a fucking relief all the same.

I can’t believe she was there, willing, ready and so wet for me and I didn’t do anything about it. I could have bent Princess Josephine over and fucked her hard behind those bushes, while her father’s men droned on about economics on the other side, and I didn’t.

I’ve been with dozens of women. My reputation as the prince who’s never left his castle? Not true. All it takes is the bare minimum of a disguise — a hat, some glasses — and I’d hit the city. Women flock to me, practically falling over each other to sit in my lap, touch my scar. I’ve gotten blowjobs in nearly every bar bathroom back in Szegravia.

But all I did was get Josephine off.

I stroke myself harder, my thick cock filling my hand. It’s horrified more than one potential lay because of its size, but it’s delighted way, way more.

I sigh explosively, the fire gathering in my lower belly. More than anything I need to sink my monster into my princess, feel her tight, hot channel around me. Listen to her moan with pleasure as I fill her slowly, the first man to ever be inside her

The only man to ever be inside her, one hand in her hair as I fuck her deep, finding that perfect spot that makes her scream my name as she submits to me completely, her tight little cunt spasming around my shaft as she comes—

I pump my fist one more time and then I come with a growl, cum arcing halfway across the room and landing on a throw rug as I gasp, my cock spurting again and again.

When it’s over, I lean my head back against the door. I know the relief is only temporary, and I’ll wake up hard as a rock tomorrow morning, dreaming of her soft, tight body under mine.

But for now, at least I can sleep.

* * *

The next morning, I’m informed by young man in palace livery that King Edward and Queen Carolina wish to have breakfast with me. I’m disappointed, because I was looking forward to seeing Josephine for breakfast, but it’s not as if I can refuse her parents.

Particularly when they’re the King and Queen.

I meet them in their private dining room, a sunlit space with its own kitchen that overlooks the garden.

As I walk in, I can’t help but look for the spot where I was last night, and something tightens in my stomach, even as I think about Josephine, beautiful in the throes of ecstasy, her body so tight against my cock that it was nearly torture.

All while her father’s advisors stood five feet away.

“Your Majesties,” I say, glancing at the gardens one more time.

Both of them nod politely, and the King gestures at an empty chair, so I sit.

Be on your best fucking behavior, I tell myself. Use the right fucking fork and the right fucking knife, you brute.

A servant comes by and deposits a china teacup at my elbow, and I pick it up, sipping as delicately as I can, even though it looks comical in my thick, scarred hands.

“Prince Leopold, I’ll cut right to the chase,” the King says. “You’re here because you’ve expressed an interest in marrying my daughter Josephine.”

“Yes,” I say, forcing my voice to its politest tones.

“We believe that a match between our countries could be quite advantageous,” he goes on. “Your father and mother, the King and Queen of Szegravia, have been close allies of ours for years. When the crown princess died, it shook us all deeply.”

I swallow hard as something black and ugly begins to blossom inside me. I don’t think about my older sister often. Not any more, at least. God knows I used to think about it almost constantly.

“Thank you,” I say. “It was truly an ordeal.”

They have no fucking clue. Nadia’s death was only the beginning of it, because after the funeral was finished, after the mourning period was over, my parents were still broken people.

And me? I was the target for more than a decade’s worth of speculation.

I was ten when it happened. A child. Not that it mattered to any of the wolves, jackals, and vultures that spread the rumors afterward.

“And we’re sorry for what you’ve gone through since then,” Queen Carolina says, her voice soft and gentle. For a moment, I’m amazed at how much Josephine sounds like her.

“Thank you,” I say again. I know I’ve learned a thousand ways to say thank you in my life, but I can’t think of any others right now.

“We would be pleased for you to marry Josephine, is what we’re getting at,” the King says.

The knot in my chest unravels a little.

“But we would never force our daughter to marry someone against her will,” the Queen says. “And... I’m afraid that Josephine doesn’t know your family like we do.”

I swallow tea.

“Does she believe the rumors?” I ask.

She can’t believe them that much, I think, flashing back to last night for the thousandth time.

“I think Josephine is uncertain,” Queen Carolina says. “And to that end, we’d like for you to spend some time with her today.”

I nearly laugh in her face.

That’s it? That’s all?

I thought they were going to tell me we’d been caught last night and send me home packing. I thought I’d be stuck stealing my princess away in the dead of night instead of marrying her in a full state ceremony.

But no. They want us to go on a date.

“I’d be delighted and honored,” I say, taking another sip of my tea like a goddamn fancy gentleman.