Chapter 1

David

“Fffffuck.”

My cock stiffens in the little slut’s hands, and she strokes it quickly, licking up the droplets of cum escaping its head.

This is one thing I’ll always take advantage of as King. Hell, I took advantage of it as prince, too. But the endless sea of eager wet pussies willing and wanting to devour my cock will never get old.

I mean, fuck, this palace maid practically begged to suck my dick and, for me to fuck her, and I haven’t even had my fucking tea yet. But who needs tea when your maid can find something more effective for getting you up, am I right?

“Do you like that, sir?” The maid, on her knees, looks up at me through her thick eyelashes and pulls my twelve-inch cock back into her mouth. She gags at the impact, and I force myself not to laugh.

I can appreciate what she’s doing but fuck, right now I can’t help thinking, don’t fucking choke on my dick, broad. I can see the fucking headline now.

She continues to do her work, sucking and licking me like I’m a fucking Popsicle. It’s like she’s making sure to lick up every inch of me before I melt or something. An interesting technique, but quite frankly, it’s a bit hurried for my taste.

But fuck, it’ll do for now.

I lean my bare ass on my desk, and revel at the sight of her sucking me off with the background of my estate behind her.

God, it feels so fucking good to be King. I can definitely get used to this view.

You’re probably thinking right now, who the fuck is this guy?

Well, loves, I’m King David fucking Lockridge. Some call me the embodiment of a woman’s wet dream.

Sounds cocky, doesn’t it? Well, I didn’t say it. I’m just repeating facts.

Trust me, I don’t fit the traditional King stereotype. I’m six-foot-five and built like a fucking Viking. In addition to making woman cum with the snap of my fingers, I’ve been named the Sexist Man Alive since I became legal for them to get off to.

Still too cocky for you? Well, loves, I hate to break it to you—I’m very fucking cocky. I have twelve-inches of thick, throbbing cock and I fucking know how to use it.

How can you not be a little arrogant when you look like me—all blonde hair, green eyes, and a body that looks like fucking Michelangelo himself carved it from marble? You’d have to be a saint to not boast about it. And if you haven’t figured it out by now, a saint is the last fucking thing I am.

It’s one of the things I’m most known for. Just look at the amount of smut the tabloids write regarding my various endeavors, mostly rooted in debauchery.

Debaucherous Prince David, that’s my name, and it’s what my reputation is based on.

I fucking love it.

But apparently, some smoke show from New York is going to come and try to fix me. My advisors decided that a PR consultant…or whatever the fuck she’s called, will be a wise addition to the team. Her work is supposed to improve my credibility with the Cabinet and approval rate with the commonwealth.

Blah, blah, bullshit. Apparently to be a King, you can’t have a flavorful past. Or so, they say.

I don’t fucking care, regardless. Though I’m excited to see that tight ass of hers boss me around. I’ve seen pictures of hard-ass Vivienne Taylor when I was doing my research, of course, and fuck, she’s hot.

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t already jerked off thinking about her.

Hey, what can I say? A man has needs, and she can surprisingly fulfill those even with a pond between us.

“Ahh…fuck!”

The maid grazes her fucking teeth on my shaft.

Fucking hell.

I pick the little thing up from the ground and bend her over the desk.

“I’m fucking this tight ass of yours. Brace yourself.” I growl.

“Yes…yes sir,” she whimpers breathlessly.

Seriously, how could you not get enough of this?

If there’s one thing this PR chick makes me give up…fuck, don’t let it be this.

I thrust into the maid, propelling her forward, and she grasps onto the other end of the desk, spreading herself like a starfish.

“Oh, sir. Yes! Fuck me harder.” Her pussy envelops me, loosely, and I force myself to stay hard.

Usually, I’m not this fucking picky with who I fuck, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about Vivienne. And I have no idea why. This woman is a fucking stranger to me. Yet she’s all I see while I’m fucking this girl.

“Fuck…” I grind into the maid harder, envisioning Vivienne standing over me, like some sexy ass schoolteacher, telling me what to do and what not.

It keeps me going for another minute, but I lose it.

Okay, this is fucking bullshit. I’ve never had this happen before.

“Is everything okay, sir?” she asks, craning her head in my direction.

I pull out of her and turn away. She just isn’t doing it for me. Not when all I can think about is Vivienne.

“Yeah, fuck. I must be tired or something. Maybe another time.” I dismiss her and fall into my chair, swiveling it around so my back is facing the maid.

“Of course. Good day, sir.” She walks out quietly, and I feel only slightly bad for not finishing.

This fucking Vivienne chick is already ruining my reputation and she isn’t even here yet. But my cock starts throbbing all over again thinking of her.

What the fuck? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

Well, might as well finish what I started. No one wants to deal with a blue-balled King anyway.

I wrap my hand around my dick and start to stroke it, imagining Ms. Vivienne Taylor riding me. To my surprise, the pressure of my orgasm builds fast. Sweat begins to form at my hairline and my bicep strains against my shirt. This fucking cock is a goddamn work out.

I hear muffled voices outside my office door, but I ignore them. My assistant won’t let whoever the fuck it is come inside without warning.

Keeping my back to the door and my gaze to the window, I lean back in my chair and prepare myself for fucking lift off.

Shit. I haven’t been this turned on in…a while. “Fuckkkkk…”

“King David, Vivienne Taylor is here to see you.” Charles voice distracts me. What the fuck!

With my dick in my hand, I turn towards the most gorgeous brunette I’ve ever seen. Her blue eyes sparkle like diamonds, and she has a tight hourglass figure covered by a skin-hugging black dress that does the trick.

It’s Vivienne, and if thought she was insanely sexy in her pictures, she looks like a fucking sex goddess in person.

Her eyes travel down my body, greedily landing on my twelve-inch cock and my handiwork. I notice a spark of excitement in her eyes, and out of fucking nowhere, like a fucking volcano, I erupt…all fucking over her.

The hot, creamy liquid violently jets out of me, decorating her black dress and effectively ruining it. It’s like I marked her as my property.

And I have to admit, though I don’t fucking know why, some primal instinct within me roars to life at that idea.

Fuck.

This woman just made me cum without even touching me.

Ms. Vivienne fucking Taylor.

I think I’m quite pleased to make her acquaintance.