The Princess I Hate to Love: A Steamy Romantic Comedy by Iris Morland

Author:Iris Morland [Morland, Iris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Violet Press LLC
Published: 2021-06-14T18:30:00+00:00

My wife kept laughing the entire way back to the palace. She was laughing when we went to dinner that evening; I heard her laughing as she took a bath. She even opened the door to our adjoining chamber just to look at my face and begin cackling for the thousandth time.

“Will you desist?” I threw a cushion at her head.

“Prince Olivier is afraid of ghosts! Boooooooo!”

I finally just shut the door in her face. But then a moment later, I swung it back open to see her reaching for the doorknob.

“You’re a menace,” I said.

“But I’m a cute menace.”

“Debatable.” I scooped her up into my arms and carried her into my room. I then dropped her onto my bed, and she let out a squeal when she bounced.

“Don’t throw me around like a sack of potatoes!”

She scrambled to a sitting position, but I climbed on top of her, preventing her escape.

“I can do what I want with you,” I said. I inched her nightgown up her thigh. “Because you’re my wife. Besides, I gave you a Bugatti. I own you now.”

“Oh well, then I don’t want the car.”

I laughed at her. “Now you’re the one lying. You nearly creamed your panties when you saw it.”

“You think way too highly of yourself. You have absolutely no effect on my panties, sir.”

I parted her thighs. She was right: I had no effect on her panties, because she was, once again, not wearing any.

“What is it with you and no panties?” I clucked my tongue. “That’s not very seemly of a princess.”

She parted her legs further. “Never claimed to be a good girl.”

“Thank God.”

I kissed her as my fingers delved between her legs. She was already slick, my fingers coated within minutes. She bucked her hips as I quickened my pace. But before she reached her peak, she somehow managed to slide from my grasp and maneuvered us so that she was on top of me.

Her pussy pressed against my pelvis, my cock aching. I reached forward to free her breasts, pinching her nipples.

“No, no,” she said, breathless, “I want to do something for you.”

I sat up. I kneaded her ass, pressing her harder against me. “I want to fuck you, Niamh.”

She wiggled. “I can tell.” She kissed me with a loud smack before crawling down my body, her busy fingers freeing my cock from my underwear. When she licked the tip, I nearly came out of skin right then and there.

“You don’t have to do this.” I said the words, even as I prayed that she didn’t listen to me.

Instead of stopping, she merely took my cock further into her mouth, her hands working me in tandem with her lips and tongue. I tangled my fingers into her hair, which made her moan.

My hips bucked, pushing further into her throat, but she didn’t stop. She merely looked up at me through her lashes and sucked the tip harder.

I felt my balls draw up. I gritted my teeth. I was about to explode inside her mouth.

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