Page 27 of Kneel Before Me

“How thrilling,” Maximus said.

“She also wishes to learn how to ride horseback.”

“Perhaps you ought to teach her, Father.”

Augustus’s face darkened. “Or perhaps you could take her to the stables and show her the horses.”

“I’m sure a stable boy could do that.”

His father pursed his lips. Constance was watching their interaction with uncomfortable hesitancy. Maximus almost felt bad for her. But it took only a glance at the glittering rubies around her neck and the shiny silver ring on her finger to remember that her father would provide for her no matter who Maximus chose as a wife. He did not pity the privileged.

“I’m sure Constance would prefer—”

But Maximus did not get to learn what Constance would prefer because, at that moment, he turned and walked away. He smelled Veronica before he saw her, the flowery scent of her perfume drawing him like a lighthouse. Without hesitation, he took her arm and steered her toward the back of the ballroom, to a pantry. Maximus didn’t need to turn around to know that his father would be watching him, his lips curled with disdain. Good. It was time for Maximus to break his dry spell.

“Your Highness,” she giggled. “Where are we off to?”

“Somewhere private.”

“And what shall we do when we get there?”

Maximus did not care what they did when they got there. He would do whatever depraved thing she wanted—anything to show his father he could not control him. Augustus was treating him like nothing more than an animal, something to be paraded around before being auctioned off and slaughtered. His father had made no secret of his disapproval of Lilibet. But that did not mean he was entitled to choose Maximus’s wife for him now. If Maximus was going to go through this process, he was going to do it his way.

He knew it was wrong to take advantage of his position of power—to give Veronica false hope that anything they did tonight would increase her chances in the competition. But this was normal for him. And it was normal for her. Sex was a currency the women in the competition would spend freely. Everyone in the running for his hand would be falling at his feet in the upcoming weeks. And Maximus might just let them.

The moment they reached the pantry, Veronica dropped to her knees. Maximus barely had time to close the door before her hands were on him, undoing his trousers and pulling them down to expose his cock. He wasn’t hard yet, but Veronica wasn’t one to be easily deterred. She took only the head into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sucking until he was rigid between her lips. Then she took him all the way down her throat, alternating between fast and slow, licking and sucking.

Maximus had to admit it was some of her best work. Clearly she’d been practicing. If he cared about her at all, he would have been jealous. Instead, he reaped the benefits of her experience, arching his neck as she took him deeper and deeper. She was using her hands now, encircling his cock at the base as she pleasured only his head. It was almost too much; he was close to coming. But if he finished now, he’d have to go back to the ballroom, and he had no desire to do that just yet. So he leaned down, threading his fingers into her elaborate updo and holding her in place.

“Stay still,” he commanded. “Hands behind your back.”

Veronica obeyed, clasping her hands behind her back and falling still. Then Maximus began to thrust. He did so slowly, at a pace he could control, watching his cock disappear into her mouth before reappearing again. She was looking at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he thought of other things: the events of the evening, the wine he had yet to drink, the glare of his father as he walked away from Constance and toward Veronica.

Eventually Maximus ceded control once more, leaning back and releasing Veronica’s hair. She leaned forward, taking him all the way down her throat, returning to her previous rhythm with increased enthusiasm. Her palm was just about to squeeze his balls when the door flew open.

Another contestant for his hand entered, stopping the moment she realized who was inside. Her eyes traveled first over Maximus and then over Veronica, who remained kneeling before of him.

“Oh, I’m—uh—I—”

Her eyes widened, a blush rising on her freckled cheeks.

“Unless you’re here to join us, I think you’d better shut the door,” said Maximus dryly.

His cock was still down Veronica’s throat. She hadn’t even stopped sucking it. If he recalled correctly, she wasn’t one to be bothered by an audience.

“Right,” the girl said. “Of course, that’s…right. Yes. Sorry.”

She snapped the door shut.

Shame. She had been rather beautiful. It wouldn’t have been the first time Maximus had had two women on their knees before him. As it was, he was barely interested in the one currently there. He turned his attention back to Veronica, trying to concentrate on what she was doing. Little did she know that this actually lowered his opinion of her. Lilibet would never have been so desperate. He did not want his future wife to be either. Any girl worth his time would make him wait for it.

Veronica was not worth his time, but she was worth his cock. So Maximus allowed her to coax an orgasm from him with nothing but her tongue. She was making quite a bit of noise; it was obvious this was supposed to turn him on even more. But for some reason, the only thing he thought about when he came was the girl he’d just seen. He saw her wide eyes, her freckled cheeks. He imagined those cheeks hollowed out around his cock instead of Veronica’s. The thought alone was enough to get him there.

As soon as he was done, Veronica stood. Maximus refastened his trousers, ignoring the way she was watching him as if she expected some kind of reward for her services. Before he left he gave her a parting order: “Stay here. Touch yourself. Do not rejoin the party until you’ve come.”

Then he left.

Maximus had never commanded someone like that before. Somehow he knew Veronica would obey. And it was that thought—the thought of her doing as she was told—that turned him on far more than the blow job had. The head had barely done anything to dissuade his agitation; control was the only thing that made him feel powerful.