American Queen

“Yes,” I gasp, and then his finger is gone, swatted away by Ash.

“No playing while she sets her limits,” he scolds and then turns back to me. “What else, little princess?”

I look back at him and then to Embry, and my voice is very small when I say, “I want you both to hold me and kiss me. I know there will be times when we’re rough with each other, when we’re fast and dirty and there’s nothing romantic about it at all. But it’s my wedding night tonight, and I just want…I don’t know. I want to feel like a bride. I want to feel cherished.”

There was nothing else I could have said that would have had such an impact. Ash seizes my waist and yanks me close, burying his face in my hair as Embry drops his head on my shoulder with a noise that sounds ripped from his chest.

“Oh princess,” Ash says roughly. “I vow to God that we will make you feel cherished. We’ll make our bride feel loved and perfect.”

Embry makes another helpless noise at our bride, and so do I, the idea of being a bride to both of these men heartbreakingly joyful and arousing.

“My sweet angel,” Ash murmurs in my hair, still holding me tight. He almost sounds near tears. “Without a second thought, I would have given you half my kingdom had you asked. But you asked for the one thing I most desperately want to give you.” His lips press into my hair and then he steps back, scrubbing a hand through his hair and chewing on his lip. I see the moment he goes from vulnerable to strong, from gutted by my honest request to taking charge to see my wishes carried out.

He snaps his fingers and I scramble off the bed to kneel at his feet. “Stay here,” he orders, his eyes twinkling even though his face is serious. “I have to take a meeting with the expert.”

He and Embry step away toward the window and begin talking together in low voices. I only catch a few words, but it seems like he’s asking Embry questions and Embry is answering. I hear the words both and comes first to get her as wet as possible and it should be you, you know it should be.

And then Ash turns and walks over to the large armchair on the other side of the room, taking a seat with his bare feet planted firmly on the floor and his thighs spread wide. Even naked, he looks regal and kingly, his hard cock reaching up to his navel and resting against his belly, the sack below his penis large and heavy-looking.

“Crawl,” he instructs.

I crawl.

In my wedding dress, with Embry trailing like some sort of palace knight behind me, I crawl to my lord and master, hyperaware of every sensation. The diamonds still heavy in my ears, the sound of lace and tulle rustling along the carpet, the prickling awareness of Embry stalking along behind me, as if to make sure I don’t escape.

Like this, it’s easy to pretend that I am some sort of captured princess being hauled before her captor-king, or the bride in an arranged marriage facing the tyrant she now belongs to. A frisson of excited fear shoots down my spine at the thought.

Leave it to Ash to cherish me by making me crawl.

When I reach his feet, I know better than to look up at him. Instead, I gracefully settle back onto my knees, my toes tucked together underneath my dress and my arms behind my back in a box position. I keep my eyes down, even though I know the slightest flick upwards would reward me with the sight of that thick, delicious cock and those hard, hair-dusted thighs.

I stare at the carpet.

“She’s well-trained,” Embry remarks.

“Well, she wanted to be trained, unlike other people I know.” The words are pointed. Then I feel his finger on my chin. I look up and meet his eyes, the color of sharp bottle glass. “On your feet, princess.”

I rise, feeling the expensive skirts of the dress unfold around me as I do.

“Beautiful,” is all he says. And then his gaze moves to Embry. “Undress her for me.”

Embry obeys, his fingers easily working through the buttons and laces at the back of my gown, plucking them loose and freeing them. The dress opens up in back, and habit causes me to put my hands on the bodice to keep it from falling. Embry forces them both down and then roughly tugs the dress down past the petticoat underneath, tossing the gown carelessly aside. The petticoat comes next and then I’m standing there wearing only my corset, my stockings and my garter belt.

“The corset too,” Ash says. “I want to see her breasts.”

Embry unlaces the corset as easily as he did my dress, making me wonder how much practice he’s had getting women out of outfits like this. And then I decide I don’t want to know.

The corset loosens and is peeled away, revealing my breasts, which are high and firm and aching. My nipples, already tight little furls, grow even tighter in the cool air, under the gaze of both these men.

Ash’s cock jumps at the sight, but he seems otherwise unaffected, and his voice is casual when he says, “Turn around, princess. Just like that. You really are so beautiful.”

When I’m facing him again, he lifts a finger and gestures to Embry. “Show me her pussy.”

I shiver as I feel Embry press against me, his cock so hot against my hip it feels like it could brand my skin. He hooks a hand behind one knee, lifting it up and then spreading me wide, so that I’m balanced on the ball of my foot while Ash leans forward to inspect my cunt. He doesn’t say anything, just looks and probes with two indifferent fingers.

“Hold still,” Embry whispers in my ear. “Because if he likes what he sees, he’ll put his cock in you. Would you like that?”