“Who the hell are you?” Bruno asks. He’s sitting on a recliner at the end of a hall, waiting for me before he goes downstairs.

I touch the mask covering the top half of my face again, since it’s already slipping off.

“Shut up,” I say.

Bruno just laughs. He really does have a sense of humor, he just rarely lets it out around strangers, preferring to keep his guard up.

It’s the kind of thing that a couple years in the military will teach you.

“You need double-sided tape,” he says, inspecting my mask. “Trust me. My older sister was crazy for masquerade balls, and since she was the only girl, she got everything she wanted. I must have gone to ten between the ages of fourteen and sixteen, and that was despite spending most of my time with you, in boarding school.”

He produces a small roll of tape from his tuxedo pocket.

“Let a pro handle this,” he says, and I hand him my mask. He applies tape judiciously, and a few minutes later, it’s not slipping down any more.

“Thanks,” I say. “I guess you are good for something.”

We head into a spiral stone staircase, our footsteps echoing, and I can tell we’re alone.

That’s good, because I have an idea.

“I’ve had a thought for a friendly competition,” I say casually.

“What’s that?”

“Something to make this ball a little more enjoyable.”

Bruno just looks at me.

“It couldn’t possibly have something to do with the princess, could it?” he asks dryly. “Since she’s just about the only thing that will make this ball bearable at all.”

“You catch on quickly,” I say. “Must be why we’ve stayed friends so long.”

“What’s the competition?” he asks.

We come to a stop on a landing, and I glance up the staircase and then down, just in case someone else is listening. This is very much something that shouldn’t be overhead.

The coast is clear. I tell Bruno my idea for the princess, and I’m not even half finished with my sentence before he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Done,” he says, holding out one hand.

We shake firmly.

“And may the best man win,” I say, though that’s hardly what’s going to happen.

No matter who comes out ahead in our friendly little competition, the three of us all win.

* * *

The ballroom is massive, sumptuous, and gorgeous. The floor-to-ceiling windows look down on the night skyline of Tomassia’s capital city, massive red drapes hanging next to them. There’s a champagne fountain, enormous flower displays, and a string quartet.

Everyone is milling around in half-masks, and Bruno and I move through the crowd, nodding at various people. It’s not as if having some of the skin near your eyes covered actually conceals your identity — it’s just a fun reason to throw a party.

We get drinks. We have to spend some time making small talk and milling around, buttering up our various allies, acting as if we give a shit about trade agreements.

I don’t. These people could get me to agree to literally anything right now, because I’m just listening politely and scanning the crowd for Katarina, lifting my scotch to my lips every so often.

It works, because I catch a glimpse of her first. Bruno’s still looking in the wrong direction, so I make the fastest excuse I can think of, hold up my glass of scotch, and make my escape, heading straight for the princess.

All the same, when I really see her, I stop dead in my tracks.

Am I always going to be surprised at how gorgeous she is?

Because I am, even wearing a lace half-mask. I’m fucking stunned at her, bright hair piled on top of her head, wearing a simple-but-elegant purple gown. It’s not unlike the green dress she wore the first day I saw her, though this one shows off a little more cleavage, and the fabric hugs her curves and ass even tighter.

My mouth goes dry. I nearly drop my scotch.

“Prince Dominic,” she says, holding out one hand.

I take it and bow silently, kissing her knuckles slowly.

“Princess Katarina,” I say. “I’d be honored to have your next dance, Princess,” I say, her hand still in mine. I can be the cultured, charming prince when I need to be.

It doesn’t mean I won’t pull her hair while I spank her perfect, round ass later.

“I think that would be lovely,” she says, and slips her arm into mine. From across the room, Bruno glares, but it’s his fault for not being quick enough to spot her, and I wink. He takes another sip of scotch, his already-serious face darkening.

I know, right then, that this competition might get a little intense. Bruno can be competitive about silly things like board games — he’s going to take a prize like Katarina seriously.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” she asks lightly, as we stand near the edge of the dance floor. The current dance — a waltz, I think — is ending, and as the couples on the floor separate, I pull her forward and take her in my arms.

I’m fucking hard as iron already. This isn’t even an intimate hold, and we’re in front of everyone, but it doesn’t matter. She notices and looks away, blushing slightly.

“I’m enjoying it quite a bit,” I say, looking down at her salaciously. “Especially now.”

The princess swallows.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she whispers.

We whirl around the dance floor, and she’s light in my arms, graceful and lithe.

“I should tell you that Bruno and I have a small competition going on,” I say, speaking low enough that only she can hear.

Her eyes widen and her breathing quickens instantly.

“What’s that?”

“Well, Princess, we both want to be your first,” I growl. “And we decided it was only fair to have a contest to determine who gets the prize of fucking your tight little virgin pussy.”

Now she’s bright pink and stumbles on the next step just a bit. I steady her in my arms gallantly.

“What’s the competition?” she whispers.

“Whoever makes you come the most times during this ball wins,” I say, lifting one eyebrow.

Katarina gasps.

“You can’t—”

“Are you saying no?” I ask, my voice rough and gravelly as I smile down at her. “You can say no and the bet is off, of course. Or instead, you could say yes...”

She looks up at me, eyes wide, pupils dilated. I swear I can almost smell her arousal, even through her dress.

“Everyone is here,” she whispers.

“That’s why it’s a challenge.”

“It’s so...”

“Dirty? Naughty? Wicked? Live a little, Princess. I know you want to.”

I slide one hand down her spine, her bare skin warm under my fingers.

“I know you’ve been aching to fuck us, and frankly, all I’ve thought about is tasting your sweet pussy again.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

I grin again.

“Good,” I say. “We start now. Go to the ladies’ powder room, take your panties off, and wait for me.”

The dance ends. I bow and Katarina curtsies, and we both walk off the dance floor.

She heads straight for the door that leads to the ladies’ restroom. Since this is a palace, there’s a powder room attached to it.

Bruno’s looking at me. I return his look, grinning, and then head through the door as well, into the hallway.

I know I’m taking a chance, but if there’s someone else in the powder room, I can say I’ve got the wrong door. It’s not like anyone will suspect I’m there to fuck the princess.

But the room is empty, save Katarina holding a small bundle of white cloth in one hand. Just looking at it makes my cock ache, nearly ready to explode, but I grit my teeth and lock the door behind me, then stride to where she’s standing.

I grab her by the arms and kiss her roughly, her mouth opening under mine, practically begging me to plunder her, explore her. Take her.

I push her backward until she’s against a marble vanity with a mirror, and I press her hips against it, my erection hard and thick against her lower belly. She groans into my mouth and I swear my cock pulsates, so close to coming that I have to take a deep breath and back away a few inches.

She’s panting for breath, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her dress tantalizingly.

“We don’t have much time, Princess,” I growl. “So bend over and show me how wet you are.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move, and I think she might reprimand me. I’m way the fuck out of line talking to her like this — she’s the Crown Princess, and innocent and untouched at that.

But then Katarina turns around, looking at me in the mirror, gathers her skirts, and lifts them over her hips, bending at the waist.

She’s fucking dripping, her pink pussy shining and wet with her juices, her upper thighs damp.

“That’s my princess,” I whisper, taking both globes of her perfect ass in my hands.

The urge to fuck her right now is almost too strong to deny, but I don’t. I want her first time to be with both of us, taking her together.

I drop to my knees, running my tongue along her slit, her sweet juices collecting in my mouth. Katarina gasps and I start flicking my tongue across her clit, light and gentle at first until she whimpers.

God, it’s fucking sexy.

I lick her harder, writing her name with my tongue, flattening it to drag across that sweet nub as her honey trickles into my mouth, her slit still dripping wet. Bent over the table she starts gasping like she’s trying to stay quiet and not moan, so I lick her harder and faster.

Her thighs shake, and I can hear her heavy breathing echo off the counter. Then she comes for the first time that night, her whole body spasming as she holds her breath, nothing but strangled noises coming from her mouth.

That’s one, I think.

I don’t stop licking her. It wouldn’t do to get caught like this — for her sake more than mine — but I want to make her come just once more before we have to leave, and I slide two fingers into the tight channel of her pussy.

She moans out loud, arching her back, offering herself up to me as I crook my fingers inside her and rub her inner wall, still licking her hard and furious.

“Dom,” she whimpers.

I just chuckle, still lapping at her, and slowly, carefully, push a third finger inside.

“I like it when you fill me up like that,” she whispers. I can’t see her face, but I can tell she’s practically lying on the counter, half-limp with pleasure.

I just give her clit a long, slow lick and feel her body jolt as I do.

“This is nothing, Princess,” I growl, working my fingers inside her.

I keep going, hard and fast. Her pussy starts fluttering and quaking around my fingers, and as I can tell she’s just about to come, I swipe my thumb along her pussy lips and then circle the tight, pink bud of her asshole with it.

She gasps, then comes hard, so hard I’m almost afraid her tight pussy will break my fingers. When it’s over I pull out and stand. Katarina is still limp on the counter, both legs shaking a little, looking at me with a hazy expression on her face.

I caress her ass with my hand, then lean over and kiss her. Finally, I pull her to standing and she lets her dress back down, looking at her panties in her hand.

I take them from her, walk to the wastebasket, and toss them in.

“Tell Bruno I’m at two, Princess,” I say.

She blushes, smiles, and then I kiss her one last time before she hurries from the room. I stay and wash her juices from my hands and face, even though I’d rather smell her on me all night — it’s impolite to go back to the ball like that.