Chapter 3

Edward

“Princess Gwen,” I say to the luscious, blonde-haired beauty as she falls into my arms. “You’ve grown up.”

Her emerald eyes sparkle and widen in shock when she notices it’s me.

“Edward,” she says breathlessly before grabbing onto my forearms, balancing herself on those long-ass legs of hers. “I always thought just one of you would be a lot to handle—now, I’m seeing three.”

“I think one of me will be more than enough for a woman like you, Princess.”

“We’ll see about that,” she says, coy.

Bastard that I am, I feint at dropping her, and she clings to me even harder in sudden fear.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got you,” I assure her, making her fall look like an elegant dance move. “Even if you are a tipsy little tart.”

“Tart?” She raises an eyebrow quizzically. “I thought the damsel in distress thing was rather sweet.”

“It is.” I smile, charmingly. “Join me.”

Of course.

Her cheeks flush, and I can feel her body temperature rise.

Fuck. She’s breathtaking. I drink her in as slowly as possible. It’s all I can do not to bend her over right here on the ballroom floor, flip the skirts of her gown up over her waist, and taste her for myself.

Sweet or tart? I’ll be the judge of that.

Before she can push me away, I slide my hand around her waist and pull her against me. Luckily, she falls into step and follows my lead.

“I can’t tell if you’re being especially forward or if I’m just drunk.”

“From the looks of things, both.”

“I suppose you do have a reputation to uphold.”

My smile broadens. She knows exactly the kind of reputation I’ve upheld—all ten hard, thick, throbbing inches of it.

What can I say? The royal scepter is royally famous.

“And how are you and your reputation doing these days?” she asks.

She seems genuinely curious. It’s refreshing, considering I know half of these people don’t give a rat’s ass about what I’m doing or how I’ve been. All they care about is their free food and booze—and the possibility of shagging someone with a title.

Speaking of…where is Ignorma?

Ah, who the fuck cares. Just so long as this beauty is in my arms. It won’t be for long—I might as well enjoy this dance while it lasts.

We glide across the dance floor seamlessly. It’s like we’re floating on air. It’s ridiculous, I know, but when you have a woman this beautiful in your arms, that’s what it fucking feels like.

Like magic. Like heaven.

“Things have been good, considering,” I murmur. She cocks her eyebrow in confusion.

“But I’m much better now that you’re here. How are you, love?” I feel her body tense underneath mine as the pet name falls out of my mouth.

Funny. I guess we’re not on that level yet.

When we were younger, Princess Gwen had zero qualms about stripping down to nothing but her underwear around her older brother and me when she wanted to play—tag, rugby, or otherwise. She always knew exactly how to tackle and take me down.

I wonder if she still can. And in those heels…

“You look amazing, by the way,” I whisper in her ear, and she instinctively bends her head towards me. I feel goosebumps rise on her exposed skin underneath my hand. “But I’m sure you’re already well aware of that.”

“Thanks, love.” She teases me, and I love it. “Your little soiree sucks, by the way.”

My body stills for a moment, amazed by her brazen honesty, and I laugh. I’ve always loved how sassy she was, but damn, it’s fucking sexy now.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I didn’t say that.” Her emerald eyes sparkle in a way that makes my cock throb.

“I see that you’re occupying yourself with the refreshments, at least. Do they live up to your standards?” I raise an eyebrow and tighten my hands on her waist, my touch burning against her.

She meets my eyes, and I see a glimmer in her eyes. “You can never go wrong with champagne. Did your fiancée order it?”

I laugh when I hear her say that. Ignorma hasn’t done anything in her whole damn life, let alone make sure there’s champagne on the menu.

I push her away, swinging her around in a circle. Her mouth widens in the most playful grin, and she giggles. The sound of her laugh, so pure and whole-hearted, has my cock even stiffer—and it’s been hard since the moment I saw her.

I pull her back to me, and her perky, full breasts squeeze between us. I feel her hard nipples press through our clothes and against my abs.

“Who taught you how to dance? Mr. Two-left Feet.” She laughs, looking so carefree.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Princess. I’ve changed a bit since the last time you saw me.”

Her gaze quickly fills with lust, and I’m stuck, my eyes glued to hers.

“I can see that. Too bad. I’m so used to the scrawny boy who I used to tackle, playing rugby. But I’m sure I can still beat you.” She winks and bites her lips suggestively.

I smirk. Goddamn, she’s fucking fantastic. These past five minutes, with her in my arms, have been better than any fucking second I’ve spent with…whoever my fiancée is.

Shit, I’m already forgetting her name.

“You? Beat me? You might be all grown up, gorgeous, but I doubt that tiny frame of yours could take me down.” I scroll over her body, spinning her around again and taking her into my arms quicker than the last time.

“Unless you ask nicely. I’d gladly let you tackle me,” I whisper in her ear, brushing my lips against her earlobe.

She moans slightly—but stops herself. I can feel her body contract against mine when she does, and I grin inside, knowing that I’m affecting her the exact same way she’s affecting me.

I know it’s not hard to see what her gorgeous self is doing to me. Her tight little body against mine and that sassy mouth of hers that drives me wild. She radiates sensuality.

Fuck. I need to marry this woman.

“I’m a bit rusty, I admit. I haven’t played in years, you know, since I…became a woman and such. Apparently, someone thought breasts don’t look good in rugby uniforms. As for a pussy…”

She knows exactly what game she’s playing because I immediately envision her tits and cunt, naked and inviting.

Whoever told her she wouldn’t look good in a rugby uniform was lying. But I have to admit…

She’d look better out of one.

The same goes for this dress she’s wearing, too.

“If you’re interested in a game, Princess, I’m sure I could arrange one.”

“I don’t play games, Your Majesty.” Grabbing onto the back of my head, her hand slides into my hair and gently tugs it. Her lips graze my ear, and she whispers, “But as for tackling…I wouldn’t mind a little refresher.”

I keep her there, pinned to me. I want her to feel my voice vibrate through her. I want the heat of my breath to melt her panties right off of her tight, little royal cunt.

“In that dress?” I ask, my curiosity now peaked.

“Out of it, if you’d prefer.”

My nose touches the small strap holding her breasts up, and her aroma intoxicates me—more than I already am. It’s a warm vanilla scent that intermingles with a touch of spice, and it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine, my cock pulsating against her.

She shimmies her hips closer to me, angling my cock against her flat, slender stomach. She goes back up on tiptoe and moans in my ears as my hard shaft rubs against her pussy through her gown.

Damn, she knows exactly what she’s doing. I’m a bit surprised given how young she is, but I don’t care. I’m just fucking impressed.

If it wasn’t for this being my engagement party, I would fuck her right here and now. I’d push her against one of the columns and ravish her tight body until both our kingdoms have an heir.

“But if you’d prefer…I’m used to playing in dresses.” She whispers, her breath heavy, almost panting. “And I’d love to do it again.”

I move her away from me and eye her up and down, drinking in the red gown that’s stitched into her curves.

“Tell me, how do you play in that dress, love?” I twirl her around, and her full pouty lips curve up into a salacious smirk.

“Oh, love. I have my ways.” We glide across the dance floor, and I nod at her brother who’s staring at us, concern filling his expression.

“Enlighten me. I’m very interested in learning all your dirty little secrets.”

Who would’ve thought that the little princess I played with so many years ago would turn into this bombshell, making my cock hard as a fucking diamond while she teases me about fucking her? Hell, not me.

By the way he’s eyeing us, apparently, not her brother, either.

“It’s much better if I show you.” She squeezes my shoulders and slides her hand down my arms tightly. “Seeing is believing, isn’t it?”

“I think it’d be best if we got out of here. It looks like some people don’t like the kind of showing we’re doing.”

She looks at me, and I nod towards the direction of her brother. She turns her head to face him and sniffs indignantly.

“If he doesn’t want to see, he shouldn’t look.” She smiles and nods at him, then turns back to me, her eyes darkened and clouded with desire. “But I’d love to get out of here.”

I bend my head down to her, my lips inches away from her pink pouted lips. “If you let me in on your secrets, I’ll show every move I know, Princess. So…care to play?”

“Why don’t you show me your throne room first?” Her eyes narrow in delight, and I take her hand before we get pulled away.

I lead her to the throne room in the back of the room as quickly as possible.

“You’re too fast!” She giggles as she tries to keep up with me, dodging people left and right and ignoring the noisy cynics.

“I could say the same about you, Princess.”

I’m wasting no time here. I need to have this damn woman—under me, over me, and filled with me. I don’t care how; it just needs to happen before I explode in front of this whole fucking palace.

But I don’t just want to fuck her, I want to marry her.

Tonight, on the night of my engagement, it seems I’ve met my bride.

And while she’s not the one I’m supposed to be marrying…

She fucking will be.