Double Dirty Royals(6)

As I wait, I slide the fingers of one hand over my rock-hard nipple, and gasp. Despite the cold, heat suddenly floods down through me, my nipples engorging. Wetness slides between my lower lips, and I swallow hard, squeezing my thighs together.

I imagine if Dom or Bruno were here, teasing me like this. Licking my nipple slowly, sucking it into his mouth. His hand sliding down my belly and moving between my legs, finding my wetness, his fingers entering me...

I moan. My eyes fly open, and for a second I don’t even realize it was me, I’m that surprised. I don’t moan when I masturbate. Who the hell does that?

I shake my head, clearing it, then grab the other clothes I brought and sit on the wicker chaise lounge. I pick up my panties — white lace, just about as naughty as I’m allowed to wear — but I put them back down slowly.

I’m still wet as hell, and I think this entire Council Summit is going to be hard. I need some relief, even if it’s fast and in the dressing room. What does it matter? I’m alone in here.

I move my hand between my legs and lie back on the lounge, biting my lips. I’m already wet and swollen, just from being near Dom and Bruno and their two perfect bodies, their teasing smiles, their hungry eyes. They look at me like I’m prey, and I think I like it.

My eyes drift close, and then I’m lost in fantasy, circling my clit with my wet fingers. I’m imagining Bruno in front of me, his dark eyes serious. Dom’s behind me, kissing the back of my neck, his lips trailing down my spine, and I move my fingers faster.

Bruno slides his fingers into my pussy. I gasp out loud, moving my hand faster. My other hand comes up to pinch my nipple, and now I’m panting for breath. It feels good but it’s not enough.

“Please,” I whisper to no one.

Now Bruno’s fingers are out and Dom’s lifting me on top of him, his strong arms bulging. I’m rubbing myself furiously, whimpering and biting my lip.

I can feel the tip of his cock right at my entrance, just waiting to be filled, and then, in my fantasy, Dom lowers me onto himself.

I moan again, pushing the fingers on my left hand as deep into my pussy as they’ll go. My back arches and I pretend it’s him, Bruno rubbing my clit as he sucks on my nipples, both of them fucking me at once, totally filled, moaning their names —

I come with a gasp, my pussy spasming around my fingers. I bite my lip and keep going, wishing desperately that it was one of them inside me, pumping me full of their seed. Soon my orgasm slows, and then I’m lying on the chaise lounge, naked, fingers covered in my sticky juices.

And I’m filthy. Not physically, but I just came hard to the thought of having two men at once. It’s un-princesslike, to say the least.

But somehow, I’m still not satisfied. I still feel empty and hollow, like what I really need is—

I shake my head quickly and sit up, grabbing my clothes. I cannot get carried away like this. I’m a princess, and it’s not my place to get distracted by two incredibly sexy, handsome men.

It’s my place to marry who I’m told to marry, and I’m pretty sure that’s going to be Sven. Besides, it’s not like Dom and Bruno would ever be interested in sharing me. That’s just not what men as dominating, powerful, and confident as those two do.

I get dressed in a simple white sheath dress and heeled sandals, because next I’m heading to lunch, then to yet another council meeting where we all pretend that our royal titles have meaning.

When I open the door to the dressing room, Dom and Bruno are both standing there, leaning against a white wall, talking to each other. They both look over as soon as I emerge, and I freeze.

I thought they were gone already. I just got myself off, moaning their names, and they were right outside the whole time.

Bruno catches my eye, then Dom turns. They’re both grinning cocky, satisfied grins, and I’m terrified that I know why.

“You didn’t have to wait for me!” I blurt out. “I can get myself to the luncheon just fine, I know exactly where it is.”

Dom just laughs, and holds out his hand for mine. I don’t take it, because I know he’d be able to smell me on my fingers, and I turn bright, bright red.

“We just thought we’d be chivalrous,” he says. “What, I can’t kiss a princess’s hand?”

I look from him to Bruno and back, totally certain that they both know. Reluctantly, I give Dom my hand, wishing I could just dissolve into the floor.

He kisses it and looks at me, his eyes sparking. My stomach writhes, and then Bruno steps forward, kissing my hand as well. Now they both know what I’ve been up to, and I’ve got a feeling they know it wasn’t Sven I was thinking about.

“Okay, well, let’s head to this luncheon, I’m really hungry, you guys must be hungry, right?” I blurt out, and then practically sprint past them out of sheer nerves and awkwardness.

Things can’t keep up like this, I think. Something has to give.

And I think that something might be me.





Chapter Eight





Dominic




That afternoon and the next day pass without us seeing much of the princess. I can’t tell if she’s avoiding us, or if she’s just busy with affairs of state. It’s a huge castle, after all, and the grounds make it even bigger.

It wouldn’t be surprising that we hadn’t run into her if we weren’t both looking for her.

That night — thirty-six hours after we went swimming — I can’t sleep. Bruno texts me that he can’t sleep, either, and I’ve got a feeling it’s for the same reason: Princes Katarina and her sudden avoidance of us.

I pull on casual clothes and meet Bruno in one of the palace’s wide hallways, and we go downstairs, away from the guest quarters. It’s nearly two in the morning, and besides a few security guards here and there, no one else is around.

“Why can’t you sleep?” he finally says as the two of us wander through the grand dining room, the table already impeccably set for breakfast.

“I think it’s the same reason you can’t sleep,” I say.

He stops. I stop. We’re standing in front of a massive fireplace, and we just look at each other for a long, long time.

“The princess?” he finally says.

“Katarina,” I confirm.

Suddenly the air feels lighter and clearer, and we both exhale at once.

“It’s not the first time we’ve been interested in the same woman,” he murmurs. “And that’s always worked out well in the past.”

I stare into the empty fireplace, remembering. I’ve been with dozens and dozens of women, but the ones I shared with Bruno really do stand out in my memory.

There’s just something about completely overloading a woman’s senses until she can’t take any more. The way a woman simply submits to pleasure squared, putting us completely in control as she comes again and again.

I don’t have a particularly strong memory of any of the women we’ve fucked together — just of the sex itself. I think one was named Maria, but I’m not sure.

“There’s no way we could share Katarina,” I murmur.

Bruno just raises one eyebrow.

“She’d never consent to it,” I say. “Bruno, she’s a virgin. She’s never even had a boyfriend, pure and innocent as the mountain snow. She’s not going to be interested in both of us, at the same time.”

I can’t help but think about it, though. Katarina on my lap, legs locked around me as she rocks back and forth, the heat of her core pressed against my rock-hard erection, Bruno’s hands pinching both nipples from behind as she moans.

Katarina riding me, whimpering with pleasure, then slowing, eyes widening as Bruno towers over her from behind and I feel the tip of his cock stretch her asshole, pushing her pussy even tighter...

“Never say never, Dom,” Bruno says, shrugging. I swallow hard, dragging my brain out of my fantasies about Katarina. “I think the princess might only look innocent. You heard her yesterday, didn’t you?”

I clear my throat, and we start strolling again. I need to walk so I don’t think about it too much.

“I did,” I admit. “And I could smell her scent on her fingers afterwards.”

Bruno shoves his hands into his pockets. I push open another big heavy door, and we make our way down a hall.

I can’t help but think of yesterday, when she was in her dressing room outside the pool. We could both hear her panting for breath, whimpering and moaning, utterly unmistakable sounds of a woman in the throes of pleasure, so fucking beautiful I could barely control myself.

And then, at the very height of her sounds, she gasped both of our names, one after the other. Loud enough that there was no mistaking it.

I think Bruno might be right about our princess.

We go through another big, heavy door and then we’re in the library. We’re just wandering the palace, no real idea where we’re going, so we wander past books and tables, illuminated manuscripts under thick glass.

As we get closer to the end, the light begins to flicker. After a moment, I realize that there’s a fireplace, the fire lit, and I draw closer, frowning.

In front of the fireplace is a couch, and as we approach, the girl on the couch looks up at us, surprised.

It’s the princess, wearing a silk robe over a long, flowing silk nightgown.