It’s not exactly a surprise when, a week later, Josephine’s parents invite me to tea and inform me that they’ve decided to accept my offer of marriage to their middle daughter.

I knew she’d say yes. She’s been saying yes every night, over and over again, when I sneak to her chambers after dark.

The days between our nights together are torture. I thought that maybe her sweet mouth on my swollen cock would alleviate some of the raging desire inside me, but it’s only intensified. I only have to watch Josephine walk into a room and I’m hard as rock.

My pants are all about ready to burst at the seams. I’ve considered taping my dick down more than once, because it’s only a matter of time before this situation gets incredibly awkward.

The wedding is set for a month from now, and even though I could easily go back home between now and then, I make up some excuse to stay in Tomassia until then — I’m the acting Szegravian envoy or some shit, I don’t know.

I just know that every time I see Josephine, it gets harder and harder to keep her virginity intact. I promised her, and I can’t explain exactly why I want to wait until we’re married to finally fuck her, but I do.

Call me a romantic, but I like the thought that I’ll only enter her as her husband.

Her king.

But every time I visit her at night, when I make her come with my hands and my tongue, when she straddles me while she strokes my cock, breasts bouncing as she does, it gets harder to keep that promise.

And resisting while Josephine is wet and willing in front of me, her perfect, beautiful body prone, and she begs me to take her?

It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.

* * *

A week after we’re officially engaged, I sneak back to her chambers. By now I’m barely sneaking, and I’m nearly sure that some of the guards know what we’re up to, but I’m not sure they care.

After all, we’re set to be married. Her father would still be absolutely furious, but he doesn’t need to know.

I open Josephine’s door, close it quickly behind myself, and look around.

She’s not in her sitting room. Usually she is, naked and ready for me. Last night she was right there in that chair, and without speaking I took my belt off, tied her hands behind her, and she sucked my cock before I bent her over the chair, still bound, and drank her honey until she could barely move.

I’ve learned that my princess likes being dominated. She loves it when I tie her up like that, when I get a little rough, and the way she submits practically brings me to my knees with lust.

I walk through that room and into the next, pushing her bedroom door open quietly. She’s standing in front of her full-length mirror, and when she hears me, she turns.

I stop breathing.

I don’t know where she got it, but she’s wearing a tight, white, translucent sleeveless dress over a tiny white thong and white thigh-high fishnet stockings. Every curve of her body is visible, her perfect rosy nipples poking through the thin fabric.

I swear to God I can hear the fabric of my trousers straining, because there’s just something about lingerie. She’s fucking beautiful naked, but the sheer knowledge that she dressed like this just to make my dick this hard, well...

...It’s working.

“Do you like it?” Josephine asks, smiling shyly. I know she’s never dressed up like this for anyone before, so I’m sure she’s nervous, but I don’t care.

I just grunt, crossing her bedroom in one second flat, grabbing her and crushing my mouth against hers. A low, feral noise comes from somewhere deep in my chest as her arms wind around me, her skin warm through her flimsy dress.

I push her against the wall, already rolling her nipples between my fingers while she moans into my mouth, writhing against me, and I hitch one of her legs around my waist, pulling her tiny thong aside.

Soaking goddamn wet, not that I’m surprised. Josephine exhales in a sigh and moves her hips against my hand, like she’s trying to push my fingers inside her, and she looks up at me as she bites her lip.

I lose control.

I back away, grab her, spin her around. She’s got a mirror vanity next to her closet and I bend her roughly over that, both our faces visible as I rip her thong off.

“Leo,” she moans, and her eyes meet mine in the mirror, two pools of pure lust. “Please.”

Before I know what I’m doing, my cock is out and in my hand, and I push Josephine forward a little further, parting her thighs roughly so she’s got one knee on the vanity, practically laying on it.

God, I can smell how turned on she is by this, her perfect pussy pink and dripping, open and exposed.

Mine.

I grip my cock by the base and slide it along her lips as she moans again, my other hand on her back, but I don’t enter her. I want to, dear God do I want to, but I don’t.

“Please,” she whimpers again.

I swallow hard, nudging the tip of my cock against her clit, feeling her body thrum in response.

“Please what?” I growl.

“Please fuck me,” she begs. Even though she still blushes if I say cunt, sweet Josephine has developed her vocabulary lately. “Leo, I need you inside me.”

I don’t respond, but I keep teasing her clit with the head of my cock, back and forth. Her eyes flutter closed and she bites her lip again, then whimpers.

“Leo.”

Now I’m at her entrance again. All it would take is one thrust, one subtle motion of my hips and I’d finally be inside my perfect, tempting princess.

But I don’t. Even though I want it more than almost anything in the world, I don’t. Instead I bend down, put my mouth on her clit, and lick her until she comes hard, moaning.

When she finishes, I pull her to standing and kiss her, but she won’t meet my eyes until I take her by the chin and force her to look up.

“I said you’d be a virgin until your wedding night, and I meant it,” I say.

She swallows and looks down, dejected.

“We’re engaged,” she says.

“I want to take your virginity as your husband,” I say, and I’ve never meant anything more. “I want to be your first and your last, and I want you to know that I mean it.”

“I know,” she whispers.

I pause for a moment, turning over the idea that I had a few minutes ago.

It might be reckless, it might be dumb, and it might piss some people off.

But I think I’m past caring.

“Let’s elope,” I say.