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“Didn’t figure you did.”
“Her cousin is a high-ranking member of the Russian government. I learned she was feeding him my plans for Agafonzan independence and broke our engagement.” I hesitated, then added, “You’re the closest thing America has to a princess, with no ties to any European power base.”
“I’m sorry.” She kissed the nape of my neck. “What she did was an awful thing, and I understand why you wanted to marry me.”
“And then, when I least expected it, I fell in love with you.” I turned to face her, meeting her beautiful brown eyes. “I’ve never told anyone before.”
“I love you back, but best to keep that bit with Alivia a secret.” She rolled me to my back and straddled me, her wet core brushing over my cock. “Gives us plausible deniability when I throw her carcass to the gators.”
Without waiting for me to reply, she positioned me at her entrance and lowered herself, taking my cock deep inside.
“Yessss.” She hissed the word on a breath of air and threw her head back as she rode me.
“That’s right, princess. Make yourself come all over my cock.”
Her skin glistened with moisture, making my mouth water as I pulled her down to fondle her magnificent breasts.
“Such a good girl. Ride me hard and drench me with that sweet cum.” I gripped her hips and thrust into her. “After that, I’m going to put you on your knees. It’s going to be a vibe in that perfect cunt and my cock in your ass.”
She tossed her head back and screamed her pleasure, clamping around me until I had no choice but to come inside her. Her harsh breaths tickled as she collapsed to my chest.
“Dang. I… no words.” Before I could make my arms pull her against me, she grabbed my tie and looped it into a bow around my softening erection. “You win best in show for dirty talk, sugar. Let’s take a shower in what I hope is a clean bathroom, then come back for round two.”
EPILOGUE
“Grygori! Stop kicking that pony before she throws you!”
My lovely wife’s words came too late, and our son went sailing through the air to land on the soft turf. Still carrying little Chantelle on her deliciously curved hip, she crouched and helped him up while I caught his pony.
Perhaps Damaris had been right about giving him one of the warmblood crosses from her stable instead of the high-strung mount my mother gave him for his fifth birthday. Even Jerome, who would deny Princess Valeriya nothing, arched a brow at her choice.
Of course, she was simply Val Lawton now. She resided in Texas in a six-room house with one bathroom. The crown she once wore was in a museum, and she’d given up couture for jeans and riding boots.
“It’s okay to cry, baby. I know it hurts.”
“I ain’t hurt, Mama. I’m mad.” He rubbed his eyes with a grubby fist and glared at his pony. “She’s just a?—”
“Watch your mouth before I wash it out with soap.” Damaris tipped up Grygori’s chin, making him look at her. “Ginger is a living thing, sweetheart. How would you feel if someone was sitting on your back kicking your ribs?”
“Then why won’t she do what I tell her?”
“I’ve got this.” Jerome plucked Chantelle from Damaris’s arms and winked at me. “Y’all need to head out for the symposium now. Mamaw Val and Papaw Jerome have everything covered.”
Damaris stroked my jaw, then stretched up to kiss me. “Think Hassan still has his food cart?”
“I hope so. I love watching you suck toum off?—”
“I’m covering my ears,” Jerome shouted. “Y’all get out of here.”
“With much pleasure.” I took my wife’s hand and brought it to my lips. “Don’t wait up.”
THE END
