Prince With Benefits: A Billionaire Royal Romance (24 page)

Because if I can't convince her, it might be.

I might be going back to Saint Moore empty-fucking-handed.

No. No! I won't let that happen, no matter how much heaven and hell I have to pay.

Our tongues touch. I take hers, twine it around mine, feeling the same electric heat we had the very first time. We're reliving every kiss in this one.

Every fight. Every tease. Every night we ever fucked, plus the very moment when fucking blurred into making love.

I used to hate that phrase, 'making love.' It sounds like some stupid flowery shit prudes use to convince themselves they aren't after just as much nasty, glorious pleasure as the rest of us.

But with her, the woman I have on my lips, I felt it a few times. I want – no, need – to feel it again. Have it over and over and over for the rest of my life.

It hurts like hell to pull my lips away, but I have to. Need to hear her answer. She's lost in my eyes again, too screwed up to speak.

“One word, babe. That's all you've got to tell me right now. Say you're coming home. Say we still have a wedding to go to. You want to be mine, I can see it shining clear as day in your eyes. Erin, love, it doesn't have to be complicated. Just tell me we can get past this, all the evil, stupid things that happened. We can be husband and wife. Prince and Princess. Real, not fake, so fucking real it seems like everything else in this world's a hollowed out ghost. You're feeling it, love, yeah? Tell me you are.”

It takes her a few seconds. Several terrible, heart wrenching seconds that almost turn my heart into a black mass of dripping tar.

Then she says it. “Yes! Okay, maybe we can make this work, you bastard. It hurts too much to lie. I love you.”

“Prince Bastard has a damned good ring to it, love, as long as that's what you're calling me in bed.”

“Better than Prince Hung,” she whispers.

The next time we kiss, I feel her smiling underneath my lips. This love tastes better than ever before.

* * *

A
couple days later
, we're planning to embark, returning to the kingdom, hand in hand. She's happy to be in my room and out of that cramped hostel. There's just one last unfinished item on the agenda waiting for us at the treatment center.

“Here we are again, Tom. You're holding all the cards for this interview, though, trust me,” I say, sitting next to my princess, holding her hand.

“Yeah, and they're all Jokers. Wilds. I still can't believe my daughter is about to marry a Prince. Right out of a fairy tale.”

Erin's father looks good for just surviving hell. He's lost some weight, looks like he could use some red meat to put color in his skin, but otherwise, he's doing better.

“Oh, daddy. It's surprisingly normal,” she says, squeezing my hand. “No glass slippers or evil witches here.”

I'm sure her dear old dad's read plenty in the tabloids and trash blogs. But he doesn't have a clue what we went through to get here, approaching our happily ever after, if only we can get his blessing.

“Your Highness, marriage aside, I owe you my life,” Tom says, nodding respectfully. “If it hadn't been for you, for this place, I doubt I'd be fit to see my daughter again. Much less walk her down the aisle. They do that in Saint Moore, don't they?”

I smile, straightening up in my chair. “We have our own traditions, yes, but there's plenty of room to make accommodations for the bride's family.”

“So, you're in, daddy?” she whispers excitedly, bouncing her knees a couple times.

We've spent the last two days fucking our brains out, catching up on what we've been missing. Damn if every gesture she makes, every movement rippling her curves, doesn't make my dick throb for more.

“LA can wait.” Tom stands up, without so much as a tremor, walking over to embrace her. “I'd be a fool if I weren't there to see you off. Also, to remind His Highness that he's going to have hell to pay if he ever hurts you, disappoints you, or screws you over. I don't care if I wind up in a dungeon for spilling blue blood.”

He gives me a sharp look. One I respect. I nod, pulling Erin's hand fully into my lap, protective as ever.

“It's just Silas now, Tom. No more of that Highness crap. Save your threats for somebody who needs them,” I say, bringing my woman's hand to my mouth. “I know my reputation. I've played around and shamed myself more times than anybody will ever know. All that's behind me now. The only woman I'll ever need is right here next to me. I'll make her happy if it kills me.”

My lips brush the back of her hand. They're both smiling, staring at me, making the whole room light up with more than just the hot, airy Mexican sun seeping through the windows.

“I know you will, son. I've done my share of interviews before the Big C laid me low, and there's a good chance I'll do some more. I know what a changed man looks like. I'm staring at one now.”

It's ridiculous, but Tom's words mean more than they should. He's right.

I've changed, and it's all for her. The old Prince Silas with his gold booze and endless pussy is never coming back. May he Rest In Peace.

The new Silas, the man I've become...well, his story's just getting started.

It's going to be fucking incredible.

“
Y
ou're beautiful
, baby. I'll make sure you don't trip in that thing,” dad says, holding my arm, waiting for the massive cathedral doors to open.

“You'd better! There are probably like a hundred million people watching. I don't want to give them something to laugh about my first official day as Princess.”

“Forget it. We'll be fine.”

My nerves make me wonder. He tightens his grip on my arm, making me smile. He's really regained his strength, plus several pounds this past month, returning to the vibrant man he used to be.

Everything else? Jesus, it's happening.

I'm really here. Standing at the door to a thousand year old cathedral with my literal Prince waiting at the altar. Wearing this long, flowing, angel white gown with twenty-four karat gold trim all over it.

Then there's the diamond tiara I'll get after my ring. The heavy, jewel studded thing that tells me there's no turning back the instant it goes on my head.

“Ten seconds, my Lady.” Dean stands at the side, one hand near the piece attached to his ear.

Two burly guards on both sides of the doors finally make eye contact. They start to pull the massive doors open with a squeak that would make an ancient tomb jealous.

I've got this,
I tell myself, remembering rehearsal.
Just listen for the cues.

The first one, there's no missing. A dozen coronets blow the world apart, piercing the sky, proclaiming our love to the universe.

Dad starts moving before I do. I follow carefully, one foot in front of the other, down that long, rolling burgundy carpet that seems like it stretches a mile. There are too many people on both sides of the aisle to look at any of them too long.

Dukes, duchesses, priests, diplomats, and heroes. Famous celebrities, billionaires, scientists, politicians. All wearing suits and formal dresses that could easily give mine a run for the money.

The full orchestra fires up. Medieval stone walls and stained glass shake softly, sending the heavenly, unbelievable notes up to the domed ceiling and back down again. It's an echo unlike anything I've ever heard.

I'd stop and admire the breathtaking beauty. If only I weren't the star of the show, I could stop and enjoy it longer.

“Keep going, darling. We're almost there,” dad whispers when we've closed half the distance.

I won't let my eyes fix on him until they're good and ready.

There he is, as if from a dream. Silas.

More dashing than ever, dressed in his royal finest, a navy blue dress uniform with a red sash and medals criss-crossing it like stars. He's waiting for me with a smug, smackable smile on his face.

His tongue comes out, almost imperceptibly, rolling across this lips for a fraction of a second. Yesterday, he teased me about tying me down and eating my pussy all night for our honeymoon. If he's doing it again, however silently, I
swear
I'm going to flip.

Dad's hand lets go a few seconds later. I have to walk the last few steps alone, up the tiny stairs, holding my breath as I take the steps.

Silas reaches out, grabs me, and pulls me up. “Christ, you're gorgeous. Almost too hot to take to bed, love. Almost.”

Yeah fucking right,
the wink he flashes says.

I won't even smile at his crap today, however much I want to. Cameras watch every move we make, perched from every corner. He's already violated several rules the new press secretary drilled into our heads during practice.

Keep it formal. Respectful. Subdued.

The last one, subdued, never made sense to me, anyway. There's nothing remotely subdued about this hundred million dollar display of royal luxury.

Queen Marina sits behind us on a temporary throne, ready to do her part. Silas takes my hand in his, and we turn to face the priest, just as the final choral voices behind the music die down.

“When two hearts become one, bound in royal blood, a kingdom rejoices,” the priest begins. “A people lives by its sovereigns, and dies by their absence. Today, we are gathered here with full confidence that we will live. His Highness, in all his love and wisdom, restores his line and our nation by binding his heart to hers. Will you both hold your right hands and swear before God, before the Queen, before your very lives?”

We both lift our right hands. A choral note swells high. It's so drawn out my arm starts to hurt by the end, but I keep it up, my heart banging in my ears. I'll do anything for this handsome man next to me.

“Your oath is your word, true and immortal as steel and diamond. Your Highness, do you have the ring?”

“ I do.” He reaches next to him, swiping it from the lavish pillow Victor holds out. Silas' valet looks so much better than he did just weeks ago, when he had to use a cane while the stitches in his side healed.

“Will you claim this woman, today and forever, for your crown, your country, and your future children?”

“I will, and I do.”

His words echo proudly through this insanely huge place. Then he's shoving the ring on my finger, instantly adding weight to my hand with its gold and oversized diamonds. Breaking tradition, he brings my hand to his lips, closing his eyes.

He kisses it while the priest frowns, trying to pretend this isn't happening. I can't help it, I let myself smile now.

What would this wedding be if there weren't a few things uniquely Silas mixed in? It's ours, after all, not just the country's.

“Erin Warwick, will you wear this ring into the next life, for your Prince, your nation, and all the children that will come from this day?”

Silas squeezes my hand and flashes me an excited look.
Great,
like he really needs to think about baby making even more.

“I will, and I do,” I say solemnly, trying hard to keep this as formal as they'd like.

“Then you're now man and wife, and Her Majesty will finish the rest.”

Two aides have to help her up. Queen Marina crosses to the altar, and we bow. I mean
completely,
down on our knees, so low I can't even see when she grabs the diamond tiara off its resting place.

“By my title, my will, and my wisdom, I crown thee Princess Erin June Bearington,” she says, bringing it down on my head, her old hands shaking very slightly. “And speaking informally, as one woman to another, you're as perfect for this country as you are for its future King.”

Everything stops. Silas and I both look at each other, doing a double take, before we stare at the Queen.

She's just gone off script, wearing the most mischievous smirk I've ever seen on her royal lips.

“People of Saint Moore, this day is all about Silas and Erin joining in marriage, and I won't steal their light. I've chosen to do something that will make everyone remember and cherish their love forever.”

About a thousand gasps and hushed, excited murmurs rumble through the crowd. Silas reaches for my hand, gripping it, pulling me up as he stands.

“Grandmom?” he says softly. No one has a clue what's happening.

Queen Marina leans into the mic, lifting both hands above her head to the crown. “I've served you all faithfully with my very best for sixty three years. Regrettably, my health is failing, loyal subjects. I won't give you anything less than my finest. My ministers will be briefed, and the paperwork has already been drawn up by the palace. By midnight tonight, I will formally abdicate the throne. It's only fair that my grandson should stand next to his beautiful bride, wearing the highest crown, a new royal couple for our kingdom in an evolving age.”

The choir starts to sing over the murmur in the crowd. They've probably decided it's the ceremony's end, like it's supposed to be. Truthfully, nobody really knows what to do after the shock and awe Her Majesty just dropped. Her ex-Majesty?

I'm clenching Silas' hand while Queen Marina lifts the heavy crown from her head, shifting it toward Silas, who bows his head low.

It's on his head. King, in all but name only.

I'm going to have a heart attack. I don't know what to say, so I just stand there, while Silas shares one more look with his smiling grandmother.

Then he turns to me, his eyes narrowed, that huge golden crown sitting just slightly crooked on his head. “Love, let's not forget the most important part.”

I don't remember what he means until he jerks me into his embrace. Fortunately, my lips do it for me.

We kiss, with more fiery passion than there's been at this altar in hundreds of years.

He kisses me long, hard, and hot. He kisses me while the crowd goes insane and cameras tip over in the commotion, with guards rushing around, settling down the madness breaking out all around us.

The orchestra and choir both keep going because they don't know what to do. It's a beautiful, chaotic confusion that's strangely fitting.

For us, it's easy.

We're finally official, and Silas isn't going to take his lips away until heaven itself knows it.

* * *

T
he official crowning
ceremony can wait, or so we've been told. Silas insisted on it with the royal cabinet, and they gave him their blessing.

He's chosen a secluded spot for our honeymoon, thank God, a different corner of the northern shore, next to the most amazing mountains I've ever seen and an extinct volcano. The royal helicopter has nobody in it except us, and our pilot, who's going to drop us at the cottage and go.

We'll be left alone to the wilderness and our own hearts for the next two weeks. Plenty of time for the media to remember how to breathe. More than enough for Queen Marina to tie up loose ends, and close out everything before Silas has the reigns.

The scandal with Serena never even got off the ground. The Republic Firsters are probably seething because nobody cared when they jumped on it, stealing the headlines for roughly two seconds, before wedding madness swept everything else like a tidal wave.

There's certainly something crazy sweeping through me right now, every time his thick, strong hand brushes my wrist.

He's going to kill me with desire before we land. Silas and I share looks that say a thousand words, numbing any need to shout at each other over the helicopter's blades.

I'm going to fuck your brains out,
his eyes say.

Not if I melt yours first.
That's what mine say right back, while I'm biting my lip, grateful that I'm down to just one layer of casual white royal fabric.

It's so intense I can barely stop to appreciate the gorgeous scenery, swelling up all around us.

“Three minutes, sire! I'll take us down,” the pilot says over the radio.

A lot can happen in three minutes. Like smoke rising between my legs, the fire only he can see, tempting him to go as deep as he needs to put it out the minute we're by ourselves.

You're a knockout,
he mouths.
Beautiful as sin.

I'm a Princess now. Isn't looking pretty part of the job?

He grins. Devouring my sarcasm in that cocky, sexy, possessive smile.

He's going to eat me alive tonight. I'm going to adore every single second.

Silas reaches over, grabbing my hand as the chopper bounces to a stop. The pilot switches off the blades. We're unloaded in no time.

It's awesomely silent out here. There's a glacial lake at the foot of the mountains. Nothing but a few distant bird calls to remind us we're on planet Earth.

Turning around, I see him helping the pilot. He looks so ordinary, lugging our stuff in, everything the royal service hasn't prepared for us several days before. Silas jokes with the pilot like they're old friends.

Smiling, I know I didn't marry him because he's a Prince. I hitched my life to the man behind the title, gold, and diamonds, the one who's struggled to get a grasp on his kingdom simply because of who he is.

Yes, he's had his demons. I've watched him slay them, one by one, until he can see me with those clear blue eyes I love. Every glance, I'm swept away.

Silas waves to the pilot, and guides me to the cottage's porch. We both watch as the helicopter lifts off, disappearing into the sky, leaving us to ourselves.

He embraces me from behind, pressing his hard-on into my ass. “Finally. Love, you don't even know how hard it's been keeping it in my pants after seeing how you looked at me at the altar...”

“Yeah?” I twist in his arms, turning around, rolling my hands up his shoulders. “I think I might have some idea. There's something sexy about a man in uniform, and yours was the best I've ever seen.”

“Too bad I didn't pack it,” he says with a smirk. “Only brought a few changes of clothes. We're not going to need them with all the time we'll be spending naked.”

“Aw, really? I thought we were just here for the scenery,” I tease.

Growling, Silas runs his hands down my back. He stops at my ass, clasps my cheeks, and squeezes them hard.

“Fuck the gorgeous views, Princess. There's nobody around here for a few hundred kilometers. We can scale the volcano wearing nothing, if you'd like, as soon as I'm done fucking you raw.”