“Are… are you okay?” the gorgeous stranger in the funky dress asks, looking into my eyes. “Did something happen?”
I’m taken aback at first, thinking, how does she know something happened.
And then I remember I’m the fucking Prince of Ambrosia, who is the guest of honor at this party, and everyone probably saw me fighting with the other guest of honor, my fiancée. Make that ex fiancée.
Of course this girl knows who I am. Of course she’s asking if something happened, since I’m at a bar alone instead of on the dance floor with my fiancée at our fucking rehearsal dinner party.
This girl immediately puts a hand over her beautiful full lips and says “Oh, I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…”
“You didn’t expect to find me here, in this state,” I finish for her and then I reach out and take her hand.
It’s a bold move but it feels right so I just go with it and she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Exactly,” she says. “I thought you’d be in there with your…”
At this point she pulls her hand away from mine, as if remembering the purpose of tonight’s gathering.
“My ex fiancée?” I ask her, unable to resist a smile.
What just went down was a shit show, but seeing this stranger’s pretty face makes everything feel better. I guess I feel a bit relieved, like I’m out of the trap that I was just in.
I don’t know what my plan will be from here – my mother will obviously be expecting Meredith to come back to Ambrosia with me soon – but I’ll fucking figure it out. I feel that having this gorgeous creature’s bright smile flashing at me right now makes everything okay.
“Ex fiancée?” she asks, her face crunching up into a look that says get out of here. “Since when?”
She probably thinks I’m some douchebag trying to cheat on my fiancée for one last night of freedom before my wedding. That might have been the old me— I used to be a douchebag player— but unlike Meredith, once I’d gotten engaged I’d intended to honor my commitments, and I had. Too bad— or maybe not, I think, as I look at this stranger’s impressive cleavage— she couldn’t do the same.
“Since our very public fight I’m sure you and everybody else in there witnessed,” I tell her. “It’s over. Whatever we had, and I guess it wasn’t very much, is gone for good.”
“I don’t understand,” she says, and I signal the bartender to bring another whiskey sour.
“Join me for a drink,” I offer. “I’ll explain everything.”
She hesitates and I realize she was probably on her way to the bathroom. Why else would anyone be wandering around here instead of at the party? I feel stupid.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m sure if you have business to attend to, you could always go and then come back…”
Fuck. How awkward. How do you tell a girl she can go piss and then come back to hear the story about what your evil fiancée did to you on the night of your wedding rehearsal party?
But she laughs and sits down in the booth. She’s obviously expecting me to sit down across from her but I sit down beside her, my leg almost touching hers.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I was just wondering what time it is.”
“Ten thirty,” I tell her. “You came out here to look for a clock?”
“No,” she laughs, and I love the way her soft chuckle sounds. “You were right the first time. I was on my way to the restroom but I think it was just to get out of that place for a while. I mean— “There’s her hand to her lips again, a gesture that I’m really digging because it’s so damn cute, and also sexy because it’s where I wish I was— “I didn’t mean that to sound that way at all. I really liked your event celebrating your… Former engagement…”
At this, we both laugh, because it’s fucking hilarious.
“It’s just that I’m not the most social person and sometimes I need to just go wander around by myself for a while.”
I look to my side to meet her eyes, and wink.
“I know exactly what you mean.”
I take her hand under the table and the bartender brings her drink.
“I’ve never had one of these before,” she says, laughing.
Something in the way she says it lets me know there’s a lot of things she hasn’t done before. And I want to be the one to change that.
“Well, if you don’t like it I’m happy to help you drink it or I’ll order you something else, whatever you’d like,” I tell her. “But I figured the least I could do since I’m unburdening myself upon a beautiful, unsuspecting girl like you, is to order you a drink.”
I squeeze her hand and she squeezes mine back so I take the liberty of placing my hand on her thigh. Her leg jumps a little bit, but in a good way, like she’s happy and antsy for something else to happen, and so am I.
“So, when you said that she and you never really had anything…” she continues, taking a sip of her drink. She pauses and a smile crosses her face. “This is good.”
“I know about a lot of good things,” I tell her.
She takes another sip and then says, “So, is this like an arranged marriage gone bad?”
She shakes her head and then adds, “I didn’t even know those things are allowed to go bad. But I guess they naturally might. I don’t know how any of this works.”
“Me neither,” I tell her. “This was a kind of fake arranged marriage, yeah, you could put it that way. But I had some choice in the matter of who I picked, not really when though. So, I figured why not pick the one who’s the life of the party? But now I see I should've gone for someone more like me. A bit more private than that. Someone who wants simpler things.”
“Simpler things?” She chuckles, nearly spitting out her drink. It’s so damn adorable. “You’re a prince.”
“I know,” I blush, because it was a stupid thing for me to say. I hold her chin by its little dimple in the middle and move it up so that her eyes look at mine. “But just because I’m a prince doesn’t mean I don’t want certain things.”
“What kind of things?” she asks.
“This,” I say, and our lips so are so close that I can almost catch her breath with mine.
“This what?” she presses.
“Oh, a girl that I really want to be with instead of one that I have to marry,” I tell her.
“So why do you have to marry her?” she asks.
Without moving my face, I signal to the bartender to order two more drinks.
“In case you’re wondering,” I tell her, in a near whisper, because I’d heard it was a real problem in America, and everyone was always asking me how I was getting home whenever I went out and had drinks, “I’m staying at the hotel, so I don’t have to drive anywhere. And, I don’t even know how to drive anyway since I’m a Prince and someone always gives me a ride.”
“Okay,” she says, laughing. “Glad to hear you’re not drinking and driving.”
The bartender silently brings us our drink, making sure to act invisible and as if he’s not paying us any attention. Our gaze is almost broken but it’s back again so I take the opportunity to kiss her, finally.
Her lips taste like costume store makeup and smell like that too but there’s another scent underneath: natural and fresh, like maybe somehow she ran through snow to get here, or rode in on a horse and carriage, even though that would be impossible.
I swallow her tongue, hungrily, forcefully, as my hand moves just under her skirt to feel the soft skin of her leg.
“Whoa!” she says, laughing and taking my hand.
But she doesn’t make me move it. She holds it right in between her two thighs as if trying to decide how much further we should go. I have a feeling that explaining my story to her might help her make up her mind.
I tell her about the deal my mom and I have and about my father’s condition. What started off as sexy turns sad real fucking quick.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, taking both of my hands in hers, although mine is under the light fabric of her dress.
“My dad fairly recently passed away,” she tells me. “And my mom did quite a while ago.”
Oh, shit. I don’t even know what to say to that, but it seems to be okay. She seems to understand that I’m not saying anything because there are no words that would be good enough.
We sit in heavy silence for little while until she asks, “So, what was the fight about. How come she’s your ex fiancée?”
Oh yeah, right. I forgot to tell her the information that will seal the deal.
“She slept with my best man,” I tell her, putting it out there just like that and thinking, how could any girl hear this and not want to help me out?
But she’s not just any girl and I really want her to be the one to help me out, so I’m hoping that dropping that little bombshell works.
“Oh, wowza,” she says, whistling and slumping back into the headrest part of the booth.
“I’m sorry,” she finally says.
“Don’t be,” I tell her. “I’m beginning to think it was for the best. Already. Just like that. I know it sounds hard to believe…”
“No,” she says, vigorously shaking her head. “It actually doesn’t.”
I take this opportunity to put my hand a little further up her dress. Now it’s dangerously close to that sweet pussy of hers, that I just want to caress like I’m caressing her hand and her leg right now.
“He actually thought that I might not care,” I tell her, but then I stop, realizing what that says about me.
I’ve never had a committed relationship in my life, so no wonder Kevin thought it might not be a big deal. And I can see his point. My pride would never let me be with somebody who would embarrass me like that. Even if it was only an arranged marriage, I never wanted it to be so much of a farce that she could just be off gallivanting with anybody else.
I shake my head, determined not to focus on the past any longer when everything I need for the here and now is right in front of me. I decide to kiss her again before I move in for the kill with the question I need to ask her. I lean in close and let my tongue explore her mouth again.
She must be feeling the alcohol now because she wraps her hands around my neck and pulls me in closer to her. Or maybe it’s just that she has a lot of sympathy for my story.
Our tongues melt together like molten lava and I can’t help it. I want to have her right here, right now. My hand travels the rest of the way up her inner thigh and rests itself on her panties.
She seems so innocent and good that I kind of expect her to protest but instead her thighs close together around my hand.
“Touch me,” she commands me. “I love how good you make me feel and I don’t have a lot of time.”
The bartender seems to have disappeared. He must know how to take a clue from patrons.
This beautiful stranger – I just realized I don’t even know her name – and I are the only people in the entire bar and the entire lobby for that matter. And she is begging me to touch her, which surprises me yet also turns me on.
I take her hand and put it under the table as well. It’s as if she knows exactly what to do. She’s already becoming obedient for me while also pleading with me to do things to her. I love it.
With unbridled enthusiasm, she grabs my already half hard cock through the thin pants of my suit. I kiss her while I slide my fingers inside her panties. She begins to rise softly and gently against my fingers, her head leaning against the back of the booth as I impel her mouth with my tongue like I want to take her pussy with my cock.
Speaking of my cock, it gets fully erect under the pressure of her hand. I want to consume her, to possess her, to fuck her.
“I’m so glad my former fake fiancée was such a lying cheating whore,” I tell her, but her only response is a soft moan as I rub her clit, feeling her dripping wet pussy becoming even juicier for me.
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” I ask her, already knowing before she nods her head yes.
She looks a little embarrassed so I grab a hold of her pussy even tighter and say, “That’s great. That’s just what I was hoping.”
I slide one of my fingers into her hole, which is quivering and dripping wet for me.
“I love how much you want me,” I tell her, as I slide another finger in beside the first one.
I push in and out, sucking her pussy with my finger while I undo my fly and put her hand inside my pants.
I wasn’t expecting us to do all of this but I’m so glad that we are. I don’t know what she means about not having a lot of time – she better not have a fucking husband or boyfriend at home. She doesn’t look old enough to live with anybody.
But I know I know nothing about her except that I want her. I want to take her virginity and claim her as my own.
Her gentle moans turn into louder yet lower ones that she’s trying to suppress. I can tell I’m about to drive her over the edge and we don’t want to get caught.
I take my fingers that were just in her pussy and put them in her mouth, replacing them with the fingers of my other hand. She sucks on my fingers while she calls out, moaning, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”
The orgasm seems to be so amazing for her that I’m wondering if it’s the first one she’s ever had.
“I’ve never felt this good before,” she whispers in my ear, confirming my suspicions that she has not had one.
She begins sliding her hand up and down my cock. It feels so good but I have so many questions.
“Have you ever even made out with a guy before?” I ask her.
“Of course,” she laughs, gently in my ear as she begins to moan again and I can tell that she’s at the height of another orgasm.
I love how I’m making her come over and over again just with my fingers.
Once she’s done coming, she says, “I don’t want to sound like I was making light of your situation by comparing it to mine, so I didn’t say anything, but I’m recently jilted myself.”
I laugh and say, “Two jilted people jerking each other off. Sounds like some really fucked up nursery rhyme.”
Now we both laugh uncontrollably, unable to hold back because this entire situation is so crazy. My cock is throbbing hard, ready to explode but I can’t help but fulfill my curiosity.
“So this guy who jilted you. He was never able to make you come and he was never able to get you into bed?” I ask.
“Right,” she says, still laughing.
“Well, he doesn’t seem like much of a guy then.”
“I agree,” she says, wiggling, catching her breath before saying “I’m coming. I’m coming again. You’re making me feel so good. I want to make you feel that good.”
I look around, making sure that no one can see us. Everything is still empty as if the resort has been magically suspended in time for just the two of us to enjoy on our own.
“Get under the table,” I command her, surprising even myself with the request.
Her eyebrows jump up over her wide blue eyes but she does what I ask. She gets down on her knees and takes my cock in her mouth.
I can’t help but sigh at how amazing it feels. Nothing, in fact, has fulfilled me this well in a very long time. I can’t believe I’m doing this but it’s my rehearsal dinner party and it didn’t go the way I planned, but this sure is.
She cradles my balls in her hand while she licks the head of my cock. Then she takes me all the way deep down into her mouth and pumps with her hand while she sucks the front half of my cock.
“Yes,” I tell her, trying hard not to be too loud. “Right there, like that, yes!”
I begin to fear that we’ll get caught, which is exciting but it also wouldn’t be ideal because I really need to come. I reach down and hold onto one of her large breasts, cupping in my hands.
“I love how curvy and absolutely perfect your body is,” I tell her as I feel a twinge of the base of my cock. Yes, it’s coming. Something inside me that I needed released for a long time and didn’t even know is about to come gushing out
She almost chokes on my cock but I shove it all the way down into her mouth while it gets totally full with my cum. I’m about to jerk it out of her mouth when she sucks even harder, swallowing up my load that comes pouring out.
“Oh wow,” I exclaim.
She sucks and swallows and looks up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes peeking out from under her mask. I like that I can see her eyes but the rest of her is shrouded in mystery.
“This is amazing,” I confess.
She finishes drinking up all my juices and then she licks the tip of my cock, sending tingles all over my body. For a virgin, she sure gives great head. Even if she wasn’t a virgin, that’d still be the best blowjob I’ve ever had.
As soon as she’s done she stands up and begins adjusting herself and so do I.
“That was so hot,” I tell her, grabbing her arm.
I’m about to say “Let’s do it again sometime soon,” when I realize I have something a lot more important to say. But she’s looking around rather frantically.
She says, “Now do you know what time it is?”
I look at my wristwatch and say, “It’s 11:15.”
“Oh, my God,” she says, trying to walk away from me but I pull her gently by her arm.
“What?” I say. “Please don’t leave right now.”
I’ve never begged for a woman to stay. It makes me feel weak and helpless, utterly powerless. But I don’t even care. I need to ask my question and I also need to see her again.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’d love to stay but I really have to go. It’s very important. I have to find my friends and then I have to get back to Pearl Street to my dad’s office to do something that’s very important for my family’s business.”
I look at her skeptically. This seems like a strange excuse but she also doesn’t seem to be the type to be lying and it would be a rather odd lie to invent right now.
“I got so caught up that I didn’t get to ask you what I need to ask you,” I tell her.
“My name is—”
She begins looking towards the door and already starts heading that way but I pull her back to me once again.
“No, wait, listen,” I say. “Really quick. I need a big favor.”
“What?” she asks, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.
“I know this is a ridiculous question because we’ve only just met and then mutually pleasured each other…”
She laughs and so do I.
“But I was wondering if you would marry me.”
“What?” she says, but I’m pleased to hear her laughing instead of looking at me like I’m crazy. I think this might actually work.
“I know it’s crazy and I can pay handsomely for the inconvenience but I just need you to stand in for Meredith tomorrow at my wedding ceremony,” I tell her.
Something different than curiosity flashes in her eyes now and I can’t exactly tell what it is. Anger? Annoyance? Or could it be that she doesn’t like the way that I’m proposing my proposal?
“Look,” I tell her, desperate now. “I really would do this a lot more romantically if I could. It’s not like I just picked you out of thin air. Although I might have. But I mean, clearly we have a connection but you’re in a rush and my wedding’s tomorrow and I don’t have a bride so I’m in a real bind.”
She laughs and I’m relieved.
“I guess it is a strange situation,” she says. “And I’d love to help, and quite honestly, to see you again. But I don’t even understand how it would work. Wouldn’t everyone know that I’m not the same girl you went to the rehearsal dinner with?”
I shrug.
“Meredith’s really not that remarkable looking now that I’ve seen you.”
She laughs.
“Come on. that really doesn’t even answer my question and even if it were true it would make things worse instead of better.”
“I know, right?” I ask her. “Everyone would be like, ‘Oh yeah, who’s that hot girl?, I thought he was with the dumpy looking chick.’”
We laugh and then I say, “Don’t worry I’ve got it figured out. This part at least. I honestly don’t know that anyone would even be able to tell. Both of you were in costume tonight. I don’t even know that my own mother would know because she just— barely— met her tonight. But even if she does, I think she’d rather me marry you then nobody.”
“Whoa,” she says, backing up.
“I know, I know, that sounds really awful,” I tell her. “But you know what I mean. I don’t want her to know that I’m not marrying Meredith just yet, because she’ll just be upset and give me a whole bunch of I told you so’s on what was supposed to be a nice day for me— my wedding day— but if she does happen to know, then I know she’ll say well I suspected as much. And then she’ll just be glad I have some other plan so that our family name won’t be ruined and so that the crown will be saved.”
I take a deep breath, trying to figure it all on in my head even though all I need to know from her right now is yes or no.
“And after the wedding I’ll just tell her that we decided to honeymoon here or something so that I have time to figure something else out. I’m sure that with my family’ money and prestige we can find someone willing to continue playing the role of Princess.”
She looks at me and then shrugs as if in resignation.
“Fine,” she says. “I’ll do it. And not just because you made me come five times in a row.”
“Only five?” I ask her with a coy smile. “I think I counted more than that.”
“You’re probably right,” she admits. “I wasn’t exactly in the right mindset to count or do much of anything else. But I’m helping you because I feel really bad about your situation it’s just that I have no idea how we’re going to throw all this together.”
“I’ll work it all out,” I tell her. “It’s just a small family ceremony which is why we had the big party tonight. Since my mom wasn’t sure the actual ceremony would happen and she didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone if it didn’t.”
“Gee, wonder why she’d think that,” Ella says, and we both laugh.
“My family has a lot of servants that can make sure everything gets ready in time for the ceremony tomorrow,” I assure her.
“Oh yes,” she laughs. I wish we could just stay here laughing together all night. There’s nothing I’d like more. But there are plans to be made before she has to run off. “Of course they do.”
“And I already have all the clothes. The dress, the shoes, the veil… she even got a fucking tiara to look like a complete Princess, so I have that. All in the hotel room here at the resort.”
She looks a little uncomfortable. She must be thinking I’m just trying to replace Meredith with her.
“Of course, I mean if you want to go shopping… any wedding dress store, anywhere, whatever you want…” I start to explain.
“It’s just, how do you know these things will fit me?” she asks.
Oh yeah. I hadn’t really thought about that part.
“I think she said the dress is 36 inches at the waist,” I tell her. “She was upset because she wanted to lose more weight before the wedding so I remember her mentioning this number once when we were talking on the phone.”
“That could work,” she says putting a hand on her small waist and then letting it trail down her curvy hips, as if measuring it out.
“Don’t do that,” I tell her. “You’re just going to make me want you again.”
I pull her close to me and ask, “Are you sure you can’t stay? We can work out all the details for our fake royal marriage, and have a lot more fun too.”
“I really wish I could,” she says. “But I can’t. Hopefully this will all work out tomorrow. It’s just the shoes that are going to be a problem…”
All of a sudden she looks extremely embarrassed.
“Why the shoes?” I ask her automatically, thinking the worst. Athletes foot? She’s missing a toe?
“I just have this really weird thing I can’t really explain and I know it’s mortifying… but one of my feet is bigger than the other.”
“Oh,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “Is that all?”
“Yeah,” she says. “What were you thinking?”
She tilts her head at me, wondering.
“Never mind,” I tell her. “I’ll get you the shoes. What size are they?”
“One of them is between a 7 ½ and an eight so 7.75 which is a size that almost nobody has, and then the other one is a more normal size 8 ½.”
“That is a tall order,” I tell her, hoping I can remember those numbers.
She laughs.
“These days I usually just have my shoes specially made.”
“Done,” I tell her. “I’m going to find someone who can do it at this short of notice. They’ll be the most beautiful shoes you’ve ever gotten fake married in, don’t worry.”
She laughs that beautiful laugh again. I love that I’m the one causing it.
“Okay then, sounds like a deal. I’m sorry but I really have to go, okay?”
“Okay,” I tell her. “Meet me here tomorrow at 3 PM. The wedding is at five.”
“And thank you so much for doing this for me,” I add.
“No problem,” she says. Anything for the guy I just blew under the table.”
I pull her in close to me and run my fingers through her hair.
“I’m so glad I get to see you again,” I tell her. “I’m hoping that even though it’s a fake marriage we can have our wedding night sex.”
She visibly shivers. I can tell she likes this idea but is shocked by the way I just threw it out there like that.
“We’ll just see about that,” she says. “What good is a wedding night if there’s no surprise sex?”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says and we both laugh. “It’s not like I’ve done anything like this before and I mean anything like this.”
“We’ll do it together,” I tell her and kiss her one last long time before she runs off.
“I still have to get your name,” I call after her, so upset at myself for forgetting.
She turns around and hesitates. It’s almost as if she’s deciding whether to cross some kind of invisible barrier. Finally, she shakes her head and says, “I think it’s better that you didn’t. I think Meredith is a fine name for me for tomorrow.”
“I’m not going to call you that,” I tell her. “That name doesn’t fit you at all. But how about I just call you my Princess?”
“Alright,” she laughs, one last time. “Until tomorrow, my Prince Charming.”
“Until tomorrow, my Princess.”
It’s only as she scurries back into the ballroom to find her friends that I admit to myself how much I really do hope to see her tomorrow. Not just for emotional and physical reasons but also because if she doesn’t show up, then my entire plan will be ruined.