I nearly gasp out loud.
Oh my gosh, that’s who they are.
I can’t believe it. The last time I saw the respective princes of San Javier and Materbourg, I was thirteen and at the royal wedding of a distant cousin. They were sixteen, and though I didn’t say more than three words to them the entire weekend, I nursed crushes on both of them for years afterwards.
And now they’ve grown up... very well.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Dominic says smoothly.
Just like that, they step aside and sit, leaving me just about breathless with surprise.
But there’s one more delegation, of course. The big doors swing open a final time, and in stride four guards in military uniforms, all staring straight ahead, not looking at anything. Behind them are three men in very expensive suits — two of them flanking the one in the middle, clearly his assistants.
The man in the middle takes off his sunglasses, folds them into his pocket, and holds both hands out toward my father.
“Your Highness,” he says. “The pleasure is entirely mine.”
It’s Sven, and just standing there he looks greasy. Maybe it’s his slicked-back hair, maybe it’s the thing with the sunglasses, or maybe it’s the way that his suit buttons are pulling the tiniest bit, like he’s a little too fat for the suit, but he’s just kind of gross.
“Tomassia is honored to host Norograv’s delegation yet again,” my father says smoothly.
I tune out the rest of their conversation — it’s all diplomatic niceties anyway — and look over Sven with something like stomach-churning horror.
They can’t be serious, I think. Him?
Despite myself, I look back at where Dom and Bruno are sitting, listening politely to the conversation, and my heart skips a beat.
Why couldn’t they pick one of them for me? I wonder.
Chapter Two
Dominic
The second I see Katarina, everything changes. I can’t believe that’s her, the cute-but-awkward kid I met nearly ten years ago at a distant cousin’s wedding, because I can’t stop staring, even in front of her parents.
I think I manage some formal niceties, but hell if I know what I’m saying. All I’m thinking about is the sinfully gorgeous creature on the dais with the plush lips, blue eyes, red hair, and fucking knockout figure.
“I’m honored by your attendance, Princes Dominic and Bruno,” King Edward says.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” I manage to say, before taking my seat, almost in a daze.
She’s beautiful. Beyond beautiful, sweet and pure looking, but with a tiny waist and incredible curves just begging to be plundered, and in the second I see her, I’m determined: I’m gonna be the one to plunder her.
That’s why I’m here, after all. Except I didn’t take it seriously until this very second. My father thought that the Crown Princess and I would be a good match, so he sent me here on a pretense, but I’m really supposed to be courting her.
But let’s just say that pictures of Princess Katarina don’t come anywhere fucking close to doing her justice. I was planning on living it up at the Council, making my way through the beds of the third-born-daughters of dukes and earls, because I hate repeating myself and I’ve got a reputation to uphold.
And did I mention that she’s a virgin? Katarina is famously a virgin, the eldest daughter of a very protective, very old-fashioned king. I don’t know what it is about her beautiful face, her killer body and her untouched state, but it’s totally intoxicating, even from across the room.
Now I’m a little more interested in my stated mission.
At last, the formal reception ends. The royal family walks out ahead of us, and then we all follow. I’m still thinking about Katarina, imagining pushing her dress over her hips and bending her over the throne.
“Holy shit,” Bruno says, his voice low, his serious eyes looking straight ahead. “Was that Katarina?”
Something cold and heavy sinks into my stomach. He saw her, too? I know we’re here for the same reason, but he was taking it about as seriously as I was — until now, apparently.
“Yes, I think it was,” I say, keeping my voice totally neutral.
I was with Bruno the last time I saw her, too. We were a little older than her, and already getting into plenty of trouble together at our Swiss boarding school, so we didn’t have a lot of time for her back then.
Besides, she was a kid, and even though I could tell she had an obvious crush on each of us, it’s not like it went anywhere. Bruno and I went back to school and proceeded to get into the panties of nearly every girl on campus.
Usually solo, but sometimes — sometimes — together.
I wonder if she’s still got a crush.
I wonder if she’s as sweet and innocent as she looks, or if she’d give up that innocence to the right person.
I wonder...
“We have a few hours until dinner,” Bruno says, his voice still formal. “Did you have plans?”
I give him a funny look.
“What plans, exactly, would I have?”
“You do make plans without telling me sometimes, you know.”
“What have you got in mind?”
“A stroll through the gardens,” he says. “I hear they’re quite lovely this time of year.”
What Bruno really means is I want to get away from all these people. Despite being born into royalty, he’s never been much of a people person. Really, it was a blessing that he was born the second son.
Kings have to do a lot of dealing with people, especially in modern times. It’s been a few hundred years since they could just order someone’s head cut off and not worry about it.
“I’ve heard the same,” I say. “And I’ll join you, if the offer’s open.”
We stroll through the castle to the gardens, not talking much, but we don’t really need to talk. Our kingdoms, San Javier and Materbourg, are both small mountainous countries that neighbor each other, so we’ve known each other since we were toddlers.
Plus, we’re both the second son, and both have older brothers who will be king someday. We’re destined for a life of diplomacy, state affairs, and marrying advantageously.
To Katarina, for example.
And of course, when you’re a royal, marrying well includes making an heir.
I can’t help but imagine that sweet, innocent girl with a huge, round belly, big with my child, and I go rock hard in a second. I don’t even know why — I’ve spent years making sure I don’t get anyone pregnant — but there’s something about her, with my kid, that makes my dick nearly burst out of my trousers.
I clear my throat as Bruno and I walk down a side hallway, toward the garden and away from the crowd. For the first time in years, I’m starting to get uncomfortable with the silence, because I’m realizing something.
Holy shit, was that Katarina wasn’t just a question. He meant holy shit, she got hot.
The exact same thing I thought when I saw her. Maybe he’s thinking the exact same thing I am, right now. Maybe he’s thinking about her, pregnant with his child.
My hands clench into fists and I take a deep breath. I’m getting way, way ahead of myself here. I haven’t even spoken to the girl yet — not that she needs to talk for what I want to do to her.
I push open the heavy wooden door to the garden and glance over at my best friend. He’s staring straight ahead, stone-faced.
I’ll do whatever it takes to get her, I think.
Anything. Anything at all.
Chapter Three
Bruno
Outside is better, at least. I usually hate this kind of function — the kind where it’s my job to make small talk, discuss the weather, and generally be diplomatic to a bunch of useless but well-bred people who can only keep their countries afloat in the world because they’ve got a population of five hundred.
But right now, all that’s pushed to the back of my mind. It’s barely a blip.
All I can really think about is Princess Katarina. As soon as my father informed me that I was going to Tomassia to court the Crown Princess, of course I researched her. I like to know what I’m getting into.
And my conclusions about the Princess at the time were... decidedly unflattering.
Yet somehow, nothing I’ve read or seen about her takes into account how goddamn stunning she is in person. The way her eyes are so blue they nearly glow.
The way her breasts press against the fabric of her dress as she breathes. The way it’s almost impossible not to stare and wonder if those are nipples you can see. If she’s wearing a bra underneath her dress.
What it would feel like if I bit one of her perfect, delicate nipples through the satin of her gown, what kind of sound she’d make as I did.
“Was there something in particular you wanted to see in the garden?” Dominic asks, and I snap out of my reverie about the Princess, clearing my throat.
It’s just the two of us now, no one else.
“I just wanted to get out of there,” I say, glancing around to make sure no one can hear me. “You know I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”
“Which is a shame, since you’re literally born to it and all that,” he says.
I just snort, crossing my arms in front of myself. My diplomatic duties are just something I do on the side. My real calling is the military command of Materbourg.
Not like Dominic, who could probably charm his way into a threesome. Actually, I know he could. I’ve seen it.