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Plaything at the Royal Wedding: An MFMM Royal Romance by Lana Hartley (100)

Owen

I feel laden with heaviness and doubt as I walk into the Expose Club.

I’m not the man I used to be.

A few minutes ago, when all the comforting sounds and smells of the club hit me, for a brief moment, I felt like I was where I belonged. I straightened my shoulders and think, I’m king of this place, and I’m getting ready to show everyone who’s around to witness it as I earn my metaphorical crown…

But then it turned out to be…not that many.

The place is surprisingly dead, but then when I glance at my watch I realize that it’s still early afternoon.

My heart pounds in my chest as I approach the attendant who is in charge of pairing up the talent with the men on their schedule.

“Hello,” I say with an air of confidence as I walk up to the stand.

“Good afternoon.” The receptionist is a thin woman with long silky black hair. I don’t recognize her and wonder if she’s new to the club. Her name tag reads ‘Heather.’

I clear my throat. “I’m, um, here for my date with Crystal.”

“Crystal?” The woman asks for confirmation, and I nod my head adamantly.

“Yes, my name is Owen Wolfe. I should be on her booking calendar for this month.”

“Hmm, let me see.” Heather glances at a computer as her hair falls softly over the side of her face.

I begin to sweat, wondering if my name is no longer in the system because of my temporary ban. It’s only been a couple of hours since Jay lifted my suspension, so I have no fucking idea what to expect, but I remain hopeful and calm.

“Is everything alright?” I can’t take the uncertainty anymore, and I have to ask.

Heather clicks onto another screen. “Let me just see here…” she whispers and trails off.

“Do I have the date wrong?” I begin to doubt myself and my memory.

“Oh, here you are!” Heather chimes and then beams up at me. “Congratulations, I see you in the system, and you have the all-clear.”

“Wow, okay, thank you.” I hold a hand to my chest. “You really gave me a scare there,” I joke.

“I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Wolfe.” She sounds sincerely apologetic and a little too serious.

“Please, call me Owen.” I flash her my signature billion-dollar smile. “My father is Mr. Wolfe.”

“Yes, right…” she chuckles. “Owen.”

“So, should I go to the third floor now?” I ask expectantly.

“Yes.” Heather nods her head in approval. “Please take this key and make your way upstairs. You will see Crystal’s door is the first one on the left, right when you step off the elevators.”

“Thank you so much.” I bid Heather goodbye and make my eager trek upstairs.

The elevator dings on the third floor and dumps me out into a softly lit hallway. The décor of the area is much like it is downstairs, with red velvet drapes over the windows and gold trim railings against the walls.

The carpet is also red with little diamond shapes. Everything is warm, inviting and fucking sexy as hell.

I lick my lips and rap my knuckles against the door with the word “Crystal” splaying across the middle on a gold-plated plaque.

Everything I have wanted up to this moment comes rushing back to my head as the blood fills my hardening cock. I feel my heartbeat drumming in my ears, making a swooshing sound.

When the door opens, I’m surprised that it’s not Crystal on the other side, but a growly looking bald man.

“Um,” I glance down the hallway, “I think I might have the wrong room.” I chuckle nervously.

“You’re in the right place.” He nods gruffly and gestures me to come inside.

“You’re Owen Wolfe, right?” he asks.

“That’s me, guilty as charged.” I bounce on my heels and try to joke with this douche, but he’s clearly not up for my bullshit today.

“Mmm-hmm,” he mumbles and clicks something on a laptop beside him which I’m assuming has my name on it.

“There’s a lot of security to get to Crystal,” I note.

The guy doesn’t even give me the time of day or appease me with a response.

“So, now what?” I ask, feeling impatient.

“There’s your assigned room,” he says flatly and gestures a bored hand across the way. “Go in there, and Crystal will be in shortly.”

“Okay…thanks,” I say and stand there for a few seconds.

When I realize it’s clear he’s not leaving his watch station and he’s not going to engage me in any further conversation, I quietly step away and shut the door to my assigned room behind me.

I take a deep breath and glance around the room, scoping the place out.

There’s a bed with velvet rope around it and privacy drapes. I assume I’m supposed to get undressed and lay there while I wait for Crystal, which is what I do.

I take measured, slow breaths and try to convince myself that this is what I wanted all along, and that Crystal is the grand finale, the prize that will make me the envy of all my friends and fellow club members.

Getting involved with Molly was a mistake, and I should never again try to invest my time in a woman who wants something more from me that I’m uncommitted to reciprocate.

Crystal appears a few moments later, and she literally takes my breath away with her staggering beauty.

“Wow,” I mouth, more to myself than to her, and I simply lay there, naked, but also feeling the stun of a million volts of electricity as she begins to undress in front of me.

Crystal is beautiful. But she’s not the best I’ve seen. No one can compare to Molly.

She has toned muscles, though it’s not overdone. Her skin tone is bronze. Her long hair falls below her shoulders like fresh fucking spun silk.

Is she a sultry figment of my wild imagination?

I don’t know and I don’t care. I just need to be free of Molly.

When she removes her shirt, her humongous tits reveal perky nipples and I feel hungry for them.

Let me forget all the problems of my life. Let me just focus on her.

“You’re fucking hot,” I say, even though I know my line is one she’s heard before and will undoubtedly hear after me.

She doesn’t speak or respond to my compliment, but she does slowly crawl her way on top of me, where she straddles me to lean in for a kiss.

She smells feminine and flowery, but I can’t focus on her like I want to. Her lips are soft and delicious, but the chemistry is not on par. There’s something missing.

My head swirls around and I begin to picture Molly’s face instead of Crystal’s.

Is this one date for an hour with Crystal even fucking worth losing Molly over? It’s not like Crystal will ever even remember my name.

I’m just another number to her, another payload.

Molly and I have true chemistry and passion together that can’t be matched or mirrored, and I’m certainly not going to fucking find it in Crystal.

I shake my head, then realize I’m talking. I’m saying no, over and over.

Crystal stops briefly and speaks to me for the first time. “I’m sorry, what?” Her expression has flecks of annoyance in it.

“I can’t do this,” I say and push her off me.

“What the fuck, dude?” Crystal looks deeply offended.

“I’m sorry.” I begin to dress myself again. I can’t get out of there fucking fast enough now. “It’s really not you. It’s just…I mean you are fucking smoking hot, don’t get me wrong. I thought you were what I wanted but as it turns out...there’s another girl who I want to fight for more.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she scoffs.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, not knowing what to say.

It’s not like I’m actually hurting her here. The one who I’ve hurt is Molly, and I need to fucking get to her right the fuck now.

“You still have to pay for your hour,” Crystal spits out.

“Whatever you need me to do,” I say as I head for the door and dart from the room.

I don’t fucking care. I’ll pay twice her normal rate. I’m just fucking relieved that I didn’t make the biggest mistake yet and actually fuck her.

I race down the elevator and out the door of the club onto the crowded Manhattan Street where I can finally capture some air in my lungs.

I just fucking hope my decision to choose Molly hasn’t come too little too late.

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