Owned By the Prince by Tristan Rivers
Chapter 13
Blair
The next morning I wake up alone in Max’s bed. I’m not a virgin anymore is the first thought in my mind. Last night was incredible, beyond incredible. There was a moment when I didn’t think I could take him. And it hurt a little, I’m not going to lie. But, god, it was so good. I stare at the ceiling, replaying all the best bits. The moment when he went all the way inside me. The moment when he sat back and watched his cock sliding in and out of me. The moment when he made me come around his cock. I’m getting turned on again. Is he in the bathroom? I slip out of bed and go over to the door to the next room, but I can see that the bathroom door is open. He left already. I guess he had something to do. Disappointment flickers as I retrieve the beautiful dress from the floor, slip it over my head, grab my shoes, and begin the walk of shame back to my own room, hoping there’s no one around to see me.
Back in my room,I’m drowsy and blissed out, and I grab my phone and climb into bed. A message from Sabine makes my stomach flip over.
OMGGGGG!! I can’t believe it!! You dark horse Blair!!! And why didn’t you tell me you were back in Londis???
What?Instinctively, I google the website of the Londis newspaper—The Londis Metro. And then I stop breathing.
At least I look good, I guess. I’m not blinking or pulling a weird face. Max and I are both wearing calm, relaxed smiles, as if we’re strolling out of the restaurant instead of being ambushed by a million cameras jammed in our faces.
The headline screams, Max on Date with Mystery Brunette!
My stomach squirms and lurches, but I keep reading. There are several opinion pieces, too. Columnists are speculating on whether I belong to this or that aristocratic family. Someone has identified me as one of the princesses of Liechtenstein. A fashionista has discovered that my dress is a Prada and costs £9,871. I remember how casually I dropped it on the floor last night before falling to my knees. Holy shit. Overall, there’s a ton of frustration and fury that no one knows who I am for sure.
I fall back onto my pillow and stare at the ceiling. Crap. Max is going to be furious. He probably saw the news and left early this morning because he can’t stand to be around me. He’ll probably want me to leave. At the thought, my stomach rolls again. The fact is, the more time I spend with him, the more I fall for him, and I’ve already started to dread the end of the month.
I lie in bed for another hour. It’s Saturday, so no classes today. James doesn’t knock on my door. Is this because they’re already making arrangements to have me ejected from the palace? At last, I call the number for food service. James answers immediately.
“Good morning, ma’am, are you ready for your breakfast?”
“Hi, James. Yes please.” I give him my order and put the phone down. He sounds normal. Maybe they don’t knock on doors at the weekends.
“Are there any instructions for me today?” I ask when he arrives.
“No, ma’am. I expect His Highness will be in touch directly, though.”
Hmmm.My breakfast tray has little legs on the bottom so it can be taken into bed, and I do just that, munching my eggs benedict, wondering what the next few hours will hold.
By the time I’ve got up and dressed, I’m starting to get antsy. Why isn’t he calling me? Saying something? I hate the way I have to wait for him. Always at his beck and call, even at the weekend. I decide to go for a run, but just as I’ve changed into my workout gear, there’s a knock on my door. I open it casually, expecting it to be James coming to take my tray. It’s Max. His eyes are glowing, troubled. He’s seen the papers and he’s furious. He hates me now.
“Can I come in?”he asks. My lips part. It’s unlike him to ask for anything.
“Of course.” I lift my hand in a welcoming gesture, wishing I’d made my bed. He sits down on my rumpled sheets regardless.
“Do you hate me?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything for a while. He just keeps looking at me steadily, as if he’s beginning to discover something about me.
“What? Of course not. I came to apologize for the fact that you’re all over the papers. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
I release the breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
“One of those arseholes at the restaurant must’ve leaked to the press. When my men figure out who it was, their lives are going to get very difficult for them, believe me.” He grinds his teeth together, nostrils flaring.
I lay a hand on his shoulder, half-expecting him to knock it off, but he doesn’t. If anything, he edges toward me.
“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” I say.
“I stopped reading the papers a long time ago, actually. But since the media is responsible for the fact I’m back here, every little misinformed gossip column feels like another insult.” He clenches his fists. “They don’t give a shit they’re ruining people’s lives—for the sake of what? A couple of column inches that’ll be tomorrow’s trash. Isn’t it enough they’ve ruined my whole damn career, the only thing that ever mattered to me?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “For what happened in the army. For the fact that you don’t have a choice about who you are—” I break off, worried that I’ve said the wrong thing, insulted his royal status.
One of his fists uncurls, and he places his hand over mine where it rests on my knee. “I think you understand me, Blair. In a way that nobody else does. When I tell my friends I just want to be anonymous, they laugh. ‘Why would you want to give up all of this to live the life of a civilian?’ they say.” He tips his head back and sighs. “I’m not naïve. I know I have a lot. And so many people in my country have so little. But for once, I’d love to walk the streets with no one recognizing me. You know?”
“I do.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as an idea begins to form. “Do you feel like taking Fariba for a run with me?”
His eyes light up. “Absolutely. I’ll go get changed.”
As soon as he leaves, I call James, get the number for the member of staff who’s been delivering clothes to me all week, and I put in a very specific order.
“I’ll have it ready in two hours, ma’am,” the manager tells me.
Max returns with Fariba, who leaps all over me, barking excitedly. He’s in sweats and a crisp white T-shirt that looks incredible, grazing his powerful pecs and contrasting with his deep, desert tan. I catch my breath, my nipples hardening instantly.
“Ready?” Max says, eyes running appreciatively over my running tights.
“I hope you’re ready for me. I’m pretty fast,” I say.
We run down the stairs, our feet and voices echoing through the silent corridors as we chide each other to hurry up. Outside, we race each other over the grass. He’s way faster than me, of course—a heavily muscled athletic machine—but I give him a run for his money.
“Not bad, Blair, not bad,” he says, waiting for me at the edge of the forest, bent over, his hands resting on his knees. “Are you an athlete?”
I shrug. “I was the fastest sprinter in my high school. If I hadn’t got an academic scholarship to Chicago, I might’ve gone for a track scholarship instead.”
Impulsively, he grabs me and kisses me on the mouth. “You’re incredible. Do you know that?”
Before I have a chance to react, he’s off, hurtling into the woods. I follow after him, lips tingling, excitement fluttering in my chest.
When we return,we’re exhausted, two competitive characters pushing each other to our limits.
“Are you busy this afternoon?” I ask as casually as I can.
“I’ve got to call my father in half an hour or so, but that’s all today.” He pulls me close, sliding his hands beneath my workout shirt, running his hands up and down my damp flesh. “And then I’ve got plans for you, my pet.”
I’ve got plans for you too, I think as we separate to go shower.
I showerand throw some clothes on and then sit down to go through some of my class notes, but I’m too excited to concentrate, and when there’s a knock on my door, I spring up to answer it.
“Everything you requested, ma’am,” James says, handing me a large box.
I bring it into the room and go through it. Everything is the finest quality, of course. I can hardly wait to bring my plan into action. All I need is for Max to call me.
It takes a long time, but finally the call comes.
“Come in what you’re wearing,” he tells me. “You won’t be needing any clothes.”
“On my way. I have something to show you, too,” I say.
“Okay.” There’s less curiosity in his tone than I hoped, but I ignore it and skip over to his quarters.
When Max opens the door,there’s something dark, almost broken, in his eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
“I need you,” he says. His mouth is hard on mine, his teeth grazing my lip, as he pulls at my clothes, tugging them off roughly. He tips me back onto the bed, spreads my legs, and buries his face in my pussy. I cry out as he licks me hard, sucking on my clit, making me wetter and wetter. Then his fingers are inside me. Every muscle in his body seems to be straining with impatience, but he fucks me slowly with his hand, preparing me.
At last, the head of his cock is pushing at my entrance. This time it’s easier. There’s not that hot burn, just the bliss of yielding to him, the feeling of him opening me up. He goes slow, gliding in, until his pelvis slams against mine. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Blair,” he says, his eyes hungry, predatory. “Take you like I should’ve taken you days ago.”
My breath catches in my throat. I’m not at all sure I can take it.
He’s true to his word, arching over me and hammering into me. It’s nothing like last night; he’s rough, distanced, like a stranger. After a few moments, he pulls out, flips me onto my front and takes me from behind. It’s more intense like this, and I cling tight to the bed sheets as he pumps into me, relentlessly. It’s pleasure and pain at the same time. My pussy clenches around him in little spasms, getting closer and closer. And then he pauses, and I feel his fingertip touching my asshole. I tense up instantly. “Relax,” he mutters. “This is going to feel good.” I take a deep breath, and his finger circles around before entering slowly. It does feel good; a welcome intrusion into my most private place, and as he slides it all the way in I let out a moan. He keeps his finger there but starts thrusting again, and I explode, climaxing in big, jerky shudders that ripple the length of his cock and leave me weak and breathless.
He pulls out his cock, and his finger is joined by a second one. I sigh. It actually feels great to be filled up like that. He fucks me a little with his fingers.
“I’m going to take all of you, Blair,” he says. “I’m going to fuck your virgin asshole, so I own all of you.” Fuck. My body jolts of its own accord.
“Do you like that?”
“Mmm,” I mumble.
“Tell me you want me to do it to you.”
“I want you to fuck me in the ass,” I say slowly, forcing each word out. Because I want it, but I’m not sure if it’s going to hurt like hell.
He slips out of me, telling me to stay where I am, and while I wait on my hands and knees, spread and exposed for him, I hear him rummaging around. There’s a slippery, rubbing sound. Is he lubing his cock? A second later, it presses against my asshole. At first my muscles relax, welcoming him in. But then it hurts a little. “Wait!” I gasp.
“Relax. I’ll go slow.” He holds still, and his fingers reach around to massage my clit. Ahh. That feels better. He pushes gently, very slowly, and his cock gradually enters my ass. My clit spasms under his finger. I cry out when the head pops through and my ass is wide open, full of him.
“Good girl,” he mutters, and the rest of him slides in, in one long stroke.
“Fuck,” I breathe. It’s crazy intense. Throbbing, awkward. But the strongest sensation is of yielding, of abandoning myself totally to him. He thrusts gently, in and out, the lube making it easy. It feels good—weird, but good. He keeps circling my clit with his finger while he fucks me in the ass, in and out, in and out.
“Do you like having my cock in your ass, Blair?” he demands.
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Tell me.”
“I love you fucking my ass, Your Highness.”
He gives a grunt of satisfaction and begins to fuck me harder.
Soon his breathing gets rougher and his thrusts get jerky. His hips slam against my butt again and again. It’s a lot to take, and my arms tremble as I hold myself up. At last he comes in my ass, his fingers curling into my pussy at the same time.
“Mine,” he murmurs. “All mine.” He tips us onto our sides and withdraws slowly. “I’ve taken all your virginities.” But there’s not the note of triumph in his voice that I’d expect, and a thread of tension runs through me. If I’m his, what does that mean?
“Did you like it?” he asks.
“Yeah, I did,” I say honestly. A week ago it wasn’t something I’d ever think of doing, but I’d do it again.
He kisses me on the cheek, inhales hard as if he’s trying to pick up my scent. “Why’s that?”
“It was kind of wild and dirty. I think I liked you possessing me everywhere.”
“You’re amazing, my angel,” he murmurs.
