Hunting Beauty (Possessing Beauty Book 4) Page 7

  I panted, feeling my pussy dripping arousal as I opened my mouth, leaned forward, and wrapped my lips around his big dick.

  Damon groaned, his hand sliding into my hair.

  “Fuck, just like that baby.”

  I moaned around him, his thick shaft stretching my small mouth. I sucked as much of him as I could into my mouth, letting my spit drool down his pulsing shaft as I stroked him with both my hands.

  Damon pulled me up, kissing me fiercely before spinning me and pushing me back against the door. I whimpered, feeling his hard, muscled body press against my much smaller one. I felt him reach down and drag his cock over my thigh, slipping it between my legs and letting me feel every hot muscled inch of it as he brought it higher. He pulled my panties to the side, letting the head of his cock drag over my dripping wet pussy. He moved it higher, and I moaned deeply as I felt him press the head against my tight asshole.

  “You want me to take you, do you?”

  Damon rocked his hips forward, and I cried out as he pushed the wet head of his thickness into my ass. I panted, the pleasure and the pain mixing so deliciously and making my head spin as I clung to the door. I moaned as he pushed in deeper, his big dick stretching me wide and making my legs shake. He moved his hands to my hips, gripping me tight as he growled and buried the remaining inches of his cock deep inside.

  Suddenly, I felt one hand pull away, as if he was reaching for something. And I was about to turn my head when I felt it.

  The panties. Specifically, the little vibrating nub that was still pressed against my clit.

  I now knew why he’d left them on.

  “You’re a bad man,” I groaned, my whole body on fire as the combination of the vibrations on my clit and the huge cock in my ass set me ablaze.

  “Trust me, Princess, I haven’t shown you ‘bad’ yet.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I hissed back, knowing that I was provoking him and loving that I trusted him enough that I could.

  Damon growled, pulling back and then burying his cock balls-deep back inside. I shuddered, crying out, my nails clawing at the door as the vibrations on my clit only got more intense. He leaned in close behind me, his mouth finding my neck and biting the tender skin there enough to make me gasp.

  My pussy throbbed with raw desire, my body trembling for him as he started to thrust in and out. His hand left my hip, and I cried out as it suddenly came back down across my ass with a spanking slap.

  I could feel my body respond so wickedly, only getting more turned on, only blazing even hotter.

  “You like that, don’t you baby girl?”

  “Yes,” I gasped, rocking my hips back to meet his thrusts, the pleasure rolling through me.

  His hand came down again, and I whimpered, the little nub against my clit sending me reeling.

  I was so close already. The combination of this being so damn dirty, and knowing we could get caught, and knowing I had to go back out there after letting this dominant, gorgeous, all-consuming man do this to me was too much, and I knew I was going to explode at any second.

  Damon growled as he fucked my ass, his hands gripping my hips tight, his mouth leaving bruises down my neck I couldn’t even care less about at that point.

  “Damon, I’m— oh God. We don’t have much time!”

  “Then you better come for me, honey,” he growled back, thrusting deep and making me squeal as he filled me to the brim.

  “You better come quick, and when you go back out there to your fancy ball, with all those fancy princes, I want you to remember something.”

  I moaned, my face against the hardwood of the door and my breath catching in my throat as I felt myself start to tumble over the edge. His lips moved to my ear, and I shivered as his breath teased my neck.

  “Remember that you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours, always.”

  “Remember that when you’re back out there, missing my hands on you, and missing my thick cock deep inside you.”

  I moaned loudly, starting to fall.

  “Remember that when you can feel my hot cum deep inside your ass while some little limp-dick of a prince tries to chat you up.”

  My eyes squeezed shut, the vibrations on my clit sent me tumbling, and I felt the dam begin to break.

  “Remember that I love you, always.”

  I exploded.

  I screamed, loudly, not even caring who heard me as the orgasm slammed through me. Damon roared as he drove in deep, and I could feel his thick cock throbbing deep inside as his cum filled my ass. He kept pumping into me, sending me into aftershock after aftershock, before I finally begged him to turn the panties off.

  He chuckled as he switched them off, kissing my neck and letting me sag into him.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped, my pulse racing faster than it’d ever gone before, my whole body on fire from the intensity of what we’d just done.

  “Did I hurt you?” Damon said quietly.

  “No.” I smiled and turned to kiss him. “No, never.”

  “I will figure this out, Adele.”

  I only nodded, not sure what we could do, but knowing I didn’t want to dwell on it. Not then.

  Slowly, he withdrew, pulling my panties back into place. I thought of his filthy words from before, about feeling him deep inside, and I blushed, squeezing my legs together as I smoothed my dress back down.

  “I— I do have to go back out there.” I turned back to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. “Later?”

  “I’ll find you, don’t worry.”

  I nodded and kissed him, hard and deep, before pulling away and reaching for the door.

  “You promise?”

  “Always.”

  Chapter 11

  Damon

  If things were crazy before, they’d hit a boiling point.

  They’d hit a point of no return.

  I was in love with Adele. Completely, utterly, and forever in love with her. She was everything I’d missed in my life, and there wasn’t a chance I was going to let go of that.

  So it was time.

  It was time to put it all on the line.

  I dressed slowly in that room in King Lucian’s palace, knowing what had to be done. The case had been building for months, and I’d been putting it off, because I knew bringing it to light could mean my life.

  Literally.

  To simply say Queen Mallory wasn’t as “nice” as the Queen before her wasn’t fair, that I’d grant her. She’d stepped into a role that had big shoes to fill, and if she hadn’t cared much to try and fill them, so be it. I knew that life sometimes wanted you to be something you didn’t want to be all too well.

  And if that had been it, then so be it. So what if Mallory was mean? Surprise, queens were mean all over the world.

  Except I’d learned more.

  The deal to bring an end to the fighting with the separatists had been my idea — King Lorne wasn’t wrong about that. I’d been fighting with my own countrymen for too long, and it had to end. My own contacts within the “enemy” ranks confirmed that both sides wanted a truce, too, except for that little dark secret that came to light after I finally bribed and prodded the right people.

  And when I found out, it’d shook me to my core. After all, it was big — bigger than big.

  You see, it was well-known that Mallory was pulling the strings. Everyone knew King Lorne’s new wife was speaking through him. But again, wives did that sometimes, especially wives of kings.

  Except it turns out that she was doing a lot more than talking behind the scenes.

  She was plotting.

  The day I found out the separatists movement was being funded by Mallory was a dark one. When I found out the bankroll for the whole thing was coming from her — through shell corporations of course, but confirmed by a few trusted sources — I knew it might mean my life. After all, what the hell could I do with that? If I brought it to light, I was likely to be killed standing up against a firing squad wall by
a vengeful king who didn’t believe me and tried me for treason. Or if he somehow didn’t do that, I’d be killed in my sleep by a vengeful queen whose dirty secret had been revealed.

  So I’d sat on it. I’d sat on it, and kept my mouth shut, waiting for more information, so if I ever did say something, it would be beyond refute.

  But the timetable had just moved up, because Mallory had overplayed her hand. With her threats to Adele about how she’d “find someone for her” if she didn’t find a suitor tonight, she’d shown her cards, to me at least. Because I knew what that meant. That meant marrying Adele off to a separatist loyalist — a Mallory puppet. God knew what that meant for King Lorne, but I had a feeling it meant not waking up one day. After that, Mallory would have control of the country, through Adele and her puppet husband.

  Couple that with the fact that I was in love with the Princess?

  Well, it meant Mallory had just poked the bear. The time to act was now, come what may. I straightened my tie and fixed the collar of my tuxedo jacket. It wasn’t the uniform I usually wore into battle, but it’d have to do tonight.

  I stalked back through the ball until I found her. This time, I didn’t shy away about touching her. Fuck it, and fuck all these people. I took her by the hand, spun her around, and there, in front of all those fancy royal types, the big scary soldier man kissed his princess for the whole damn world to see.

  I kissed her with everything I had in me, searing every single feeling I had for her into those sweet lips, before I pulled away.

  “Let’s go.”

  She nodded, her hand tightening in mine as I pulled her from the room, not giving a shit about everyone staring at us.

  “And where might we be going?”

  “Home.”

  The helicopter pilot, Martin, was a friend of mine from the Royal Guard, and after I’d pulled his ass away from a grenade in Kabul? Well, let’s say he owed me this one. He nodded through the windshield as we stepped onto King Lucian’s helipad, the rotors already going.

  “Damon!”

  I turned, grinning at her as the wind whipped around us, her gown billowing in the air from the rotors as she shook her head and smiled at me.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Saving the kingdom, baby girl.”

  “What?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  She smiled as she stepped into me, kissing me softly.

  “Always.”

  “Good, cause I’m going to need it when I tell your father that his wife is trying to take over the kingdom.”

  Her jaw dropped

  “I’ll explain on the ride. Oh, and Princess?”

  I grinned as I pulled her close. “I’m also going to tell him I’m in love with his daughter, in case you’re curious.”

  It took Martin blaring a warning fire on the helicopter’s foghorn to get us to finally pull apart. And after that, it was back to Berne, back to face the music, and back to tell my boss and my King that I wanted to marry his daughter.

  Epilogue

  Adele

  “More.”

  I gasp as his tongue drags up from between my legs, bumping over my clit and trailing up to my belly button.

  “And now here I could’ve sworn you just told me to stop.”

  I groan, yanking Damon down on top of me and kissing him fiercely.

  “I think I told you to stop that because you were going to kill me if you kept going. But I want other things.”

  He grins, leaning back in to kiss me hungrily. Hands stroke my skin, my legs move to wrap around his grooved hips, and I can feel the pulsing hardness of his cock throbbing against my pussy.

  “I’m ready,” I whisper.

  And I am. It is, after all, our wedding night.

  We landed at the helipad back at my father’s castle to an armed guard welcoming party, guns drawn, dogs, lights, the works. You see, what people see and what people think they see are often two very different things. In this case, when an entire ballroom of my uncle’s court saw a much older, somewhat gruff looking man in an all black tuxedo swoop me up for a showstopper of a kiss and then run away with me, the worst was assumed.

  And by “the worst,” I mean: everyone thought they’d just watched the princess of Berne get kidnapped.

  Needless to say, things were a little bit tense as the helicopter rotors slowed to a stop back in Berne.

  Luckily, most of the men at arms recognized my mystery abductor as one of their favorite Captains, rather than a rogue separatist. Tensions did get a little crazier before they lightened, but in the end, well, we managed to step off that helicopter without Damon getting shot.

  Step one, check.

  Step two was making our way directly to my father’s private office, where one of Damon’s most trusted men met us with a strongbox full of intelligence reports and classified wartime interviews.

  “I need you to wait out here for this part,” Damon had said quietly.

  I raised my brows. “You’re insane if you think I’m doing that.”

  “I think I’ve already proven myself in the insane department.”

  I gave him a look. “I’m coming in there with you. He’s my father.”

  “And he’s my King, and yes, your father.” His jaw tightened. “I told you on the way here, there are two things I need to tell him. First, about Mallory, and second—”

  “About me.”

  He nodded, his eyes flashing fire as he pulled me close.

  “This will be easier without you there, trust me.”

  “I already told you, I do,” I said softly, kissing him.

  “Captain Hunt?”

  We turned to a nervous looking aide.

  “His Highness will see you now.”

  Damon cleared his throat as he turned towards the double doors.

  “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, standing tall, and stepping inside.

  The doors shut behind him with a sharp click.

  There was yelling. Of course there was yelling, but slowly it died down, from what I can only assume was Damon opening the locked briefcase and showing my father the irrefutable and damning evidence about my stepmother secretly financing the separatists. Actually, it was quiet for a long time, and all I could hear was low, fierce talk, punctuated by the occasional fist against a table.

  All in all, and even not actually being in the room, I think it’s fair to say my father took the news of his wife’s plot to overthrow his throne fairly well.

  And then, after a short pause, all hell exploded. And I knew what that part was.

  That was Damon telling my father that he was in love with me.

  It went about as smooth as you can imagine.

  There was roar, like a lion breaking free from a cage, followed by the sound of shattering glass and something toppling to the ground that had the guards outside the room drawing their weapons and yelling into earpieces.

  The screaming was matched by different yelling, this one sounding more like Damon, and followed by another sound of splintering wood.

  Then, I heard the words

  “I love her, Your Highness!”

  And right there, I knew I wasn’t staying out of that room anymore.

  “Your Highness, your father is not to be dis—”

  I shoved away the guards that tried to stop me, kneed another in the groin who tried to grab me, and then kicked in the doors to my father’s personal study.

  The place was in tatters. Three of the glass-doored bookshelves along one wall were toppled to the ground, books and glass across the floor. A chair lay broken in two, and the usual things on top of my father’s desk were dashed across the ground.

  My eyes flew to the far wall by the window, where my father had Damon up against the wall by his throat.

  “Dad!”

  He turned, his face red as he shook his head.

  “Adele, honey, whatever this predator of a man has done to you, I promise you, justice will be—”

  “Dad, I love
him.”

  The room froze, my father’s brow furrowing.

  “What?”

  “I— I love him, Dad,” I said, quieter this time. “I love him like you loved Mom.”

  And that did it.

  With one word, the tension in the room dropped — along with my father’s hand from Damon’s throat, I might add.

  Dad heard Damon out, and even if at first he was hesitant, what with our age difference, he saw the way we looked at each other. He saw the way we finished each other’s sentences, the way our eyes lingered on each other, and the way we were clearly doing everything in our power not to touch, out of respect to him.

  “I won’t have this relationship turning into a media circus,” my dad finally said. “I mean the two of you dating. If that drags on, I won’t—”

  “Your Highness, with all due respect?” Damon stood, chest out in military fashion as he addressed my father.

  “I don’t intend to date your daughter.”

  I saw my father’s eyes narrow as his fist clenched.

  “I intend to marry her.”

  And everything froze — at least to me, that is. I remember turning slowly, my jaw dropping as I looked at the man of my dreams, standing there in front of my father — the King — and pledging his love to me. Through the fogginess of that memory now, I even remember him dropping to one knee and formerly asking my father’s permission.

  …Oh, and he said yes, by the way.

  There was this explosive moment of rejoicing, and me leaping out of my chair and jumping into Damon’s arms, shrieking as he he spun me around.

  “I didn’t have a chance to actually ask you yet—”

  “Yes,” I whispered into his ear as he hugged me tightly. “Yes forever.”

  After that, the real tough talks got underway, because after that, Damon got into the other business at hand: Mallory.

  The castle was on lockdown. Arrests were made. Lawyers were called in, judges were woken up, and Parliament was assembled. In short, a royal shit storm erupted in Berne that night. And it was bad. Not everyone went quietly, let’s just say that. Some of Mallory’s people actively fought arrests. There were a few firefights that night — some even in the castle itself.