Page 110 of Twisted Royals

It was his turn to be surprised when I stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He blustered a bit, telling me to save my kisses for the groom, but he couldn’t hide his smile, nor the brush of his fingertip across his cheek before he tucked my hand into his elbow.

Below us, the crowd stood, forming an aisle for the wedding procession, every head turned up to watch me, but my eyes were on the man at the end of that corridor. My heart beat fast at the promise I felt every time I saw him. He grinned and despite the distance between us, I saw him lift his hand to cross his heart and his finger crook. The tears started then and I honestly could not have described how I made it down the stairs or across the grass strewn with rose petals. The only thing I knew was that when he stepped forward and took my hand, I was home.

Citizens of both Emberly and Doran, presidents, monarchs, heads of states, and business moguls stood witness to our joining. The news team who’d honored our privacy, snapped photo after photo as we shared vows spoken by countless brides and grooms since time began. But our joined pinkie fingers represented vows not needing to be spoken with anything but our hearts. When the priest smiled and announced that my husband could kiss his bride, my prince lifted my veil, his lips pressing against mine in a kiss that joined our souls.

“Stand.”

Whereas I’d jumped up the first time I’d heard that order, tonight, I took my time. I slowly unfurled my legs from beneath me and rose from the chaise at the end of the bed. My bare feet were cushioned by the thick nap of the carpet. I turned to face my husband and smiled.

He didn’t move a single muscle as his eyes roved over me from head to toe. My stature should have made it a rather short journey, but he didn’t rush. Under his gaze, I felt my nipples tighten to press against the fabric covering them. I could feel the moisture beginning to pool between my thighs as his gaze focused on my mound, the sheerness of the negligée set my mother had gifted me with ensured the shadowed promise of what lay beneath was visible to his eyes. When he finally moved, it was to twirl his finger. “Turn in a circle, slowly.”

Obeying, I knew the strap of the thong was nestled between my buttocks, leaving the globes of my ass bare. I swore I could feel the heat of his gaze as he took in his fill and knew I was right when he barked, “No clenching.”

Though my back was currently facing him, I knew when he smiled as well.

“How do I want that sweet little ass?”

“Bare?” I offered, but made no move to lift my gown.

“Try again,” he said.

“Umm, red?”

This time his growl had me clenching my thighs together. This was my wedding night and I really didn’t want to drip onto the carpet beneath me.

“Do I need to add the cane to tonight’s play?”

Though tempted, as I’d been itching to learn if a cane truly lived up to its claims in every book I’d read, I wasn’t sure tonight was the night I wanted to test his patience.

“You want it jiggly, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised and when his hands cupped both cheeks of my ass, I learned he’d moved without my being aware. Kneading the soft flesh in his fingers, until I was feeling fairly jiggly all over, he bent and nipped my earlobe before saying, “But I think they’d look beautiful with a nice red welt across them, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Such a good princess. If I’d known you were going to be so agreeable, I would have wed you sooner.”

We both knew that was a bald-faced lie. It had taken both of us standing fast and never faltering to convince both our families that, yes, a wedding could be pulled off in under a year or two. When I pointed out that they had two countries to help, our mothers had capitulated and though our fathers might have continued to huff a bit, it was no secret they would concede this battle to the women.

“Sir?”

“Yes, my love.”

“If you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to come, and I really, really would like for the first time coming as a married woman to be with my prince’s magnificent cock inside me.”

A strangled sound came from behind me and then morphed into laughter as Max turned me to face him.

“You will never cease to amaze me, but you do know that is called topping from the bottom, and a big no-no for a submissive.”

“Feel free to add another stripe to my ass, but I swear, I’m one breath away from imploding!”

“So be it,” Max said before untying the ribbon at my neck and pushing the dressing gown off my shoulders. The white gossamer fabric fluttered to puddle at my feet, leaving me in a sheath held up by two thin straps. “I’d order you to strip, but that would deny me the pleasure of unwrapping my wedding present.” He slid his fingers under the straps and pushed them off my shoulders and down my arms, pausing when the fabric dropped just below the mounds of my breast. He ran his thumbs over my nipples, causing them to furl even tighter. “I can’t wait for our next trip to the dungeon. I’m going to bind your tits and watch them engorge. I’ll wrap your entire body in ropes and display you for my viewing pleasure. How do you think you’ll like being suspended in the air while I flog these pretty little tits, that sweet little ass and slick pussy?”

I couldn’t form an intelligent answer as I visualized the room in the lower bowels of Castle Doran that he’d transformed into a modern Dom’s dungeon. Like the one in his loft in Texas, just crossing the threshold always had me wet and ready to play. I could only offer mewls of such need that Max relented and allowed the straps to fall from my elbows to my wrists, and then slide off as the sheath joined the gown on the floor. Naked as the day I was born and the doctor slapped life into me, my husband swatted his hand against my ass before lifting me into his arms. In a few long strides, he reached the bed and dropped me onto it.

It was my turn to watch as he stripped out of his tux. My breathing became fast little pants as my blood heated and my heart raced. My breasts ached and when his cock sprang free, jutting out from his body, my sex wept. We’d played during the six months of wedding planning, but true to his word, Max had never fucked me. I’d improved my techniques using my mouth and he’d taught me how to press my breasts around his cock as he slid his long length between them, spraying his cum all over my chest and face.

When I suggested we try some “butt stuff” and blushed scarlet, he contemplated the offer before stating that counted as penetration, but he was willing to consider stepping up the training I’d need. I’d had no clue what he meant until one night he handed me a heavy wooden box. It reminded me of the ones in the butler’s pantry that held all the royal silverware. And when I opened the lid, the light did reflect off a shiny, silver surface, but it sure wasn’t any cutlery one would see set on a royal dining-room table.

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