Natalie Vs. Prince

“What is it?” Her worried eyes go from me to the box, and I can’t tell she’s dying to know what’s on the inside.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Just trust me,” I tell her, a grin on my lips. Oh, she has no idea what I have in store for her.

No fucking idea.

9

Natalie

Rise and shine, my alarm clock yells at me while it beeps incessantly. Still with my eyes closed, I roll to the side and crush the palm of my hand over the snooze button. Just five more minutes, I think with a smile, the memories of last night bubbling up to my mind. Yes, I said last night; after we were finished with lunch, our “meeting” stretched into a stroll through Central Park, and then we ended up having a few drinks at the 230 Fifth, a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the Empire State Building.

You know, Connor’s right; he’s more than what the media says he is. He’s funny, smart and charming… And he’s gentle and tender as well. Sure, he likes to drop his fuck-bombs every thirty seconds or so, but that’s just for show. I guess that growing up as a Royal woke up that rebellious side of his, hence all the cursing, the crazy antics, and the tattoos.

When we grabbed a cab, it was already 9 pm, the long shadows of the NY skyscrapers looming over us. With three margaritas in my bloodstream, I couldn’t help but squeeze his hand in mine as he reached for me. From there, it took just a few seconds for us to lean into each other and kiss. We made out during the short cab ride, and I even slid my hand up his leg, my fingers touching his hard cock.

Thankfully, the cab stopped before things could progress any further; I threw one last smile at Connor and, with that, ran out of the car and into my apartment, leaving him behind. I dodged a bullet there, didn’t I? What, don’t tell me that I should've invited him in? You know very well that I can’t do that. We have to maintain a strictly professional relationship… Yeah, I know we made out last night, but that was a… bump in the road, I guess.

Still smiling, I sit up on the bed and reach for my phone. I unlock it and, like I always do every morning, check my email before my feet even touch the floor. There are already ten new emails in my inbox, but the one that grabs my attention immediately is the one from my boss, Gage Price’s head honcho. My heart tightens up a little bit - he usually doesn’t email anyone directly unless there’s trouble, and I press my finger over his email.

Dear Natalie, it reads, I’m extremely pleased with your work as of late. You have proved yourself essential in pointing specific areas of improvement to Gage Price's PR strategy concerning the St. Alban’s Prince, Connor D’Avington. I’m looking forward to your presentation. Keep up the good work!

I smile like a fool at the screen; despite working harder than almost anyone at the office, it’s not every day that I receive emails like this one. And to get one straight from the boss himself…! Now this is how you start your day off on the right foot!

I get up from the bed, feeling as cheery as a kid on Christmas’ Eve, and go stra

ight for the bathroom. I take a long shower and then get dressed, putting on a formal skirt and a white shirt.

Today’s the day I’m going to deliver my presentation concerning the “Connor makeover plan,” a 90-day strategy to change his image from drunk womanizer into a respectable member of the D’Avington Royal Family, and I want it to be perfect. I’ve prepared as well as I can, and I look good and professional. You’re going to rock, Natalie, I tell myself as I take one deep breath and look one last time at my reflection in the mirror.

I grab my laptop and start walking toward the room when my eyes find a small wrapped box sitting on my bed stand. Connor’s gift! I completely forgot about it when I got home yesterday… After making out with him during the cab ride home, I was on Cloud Nine. There’s something in Connor that I’ve never found in any other man—sure, he makes me as horny as I’ve ever been, but it’s more than that. Exactly what it is, I don’t know. How can someone so different from me affect me this much?

Well, let’s see what’s in the box.

I walk toward the bed stand, grab the box and start to unwrap it. There’s a picture of a cylindrical white something on the cardboard, and there’s also the picture of a remote. “MAX PLEASURE,” it reads in bold pink letters. Oh, God, I can’t believe this. He’s out of his mind!

My fingers are trembling as I open the package and pick up a small bullet vibrator. I turn the box around as I look for the remote, but it’s nowhere to be found. Connor probably kept it to himself. Oh, he’s insane, no way in hell am I going to wear this thing! To top it all off, today’s a big day for me at the office. Can you imagine how horrible it’ll be if he decides to turn this thing on while I’m delivering my presentation? No, no way I’m going to let that happen.

I place the box and the bullet vibrator down on the bed stand and, in this exact moment, my cellphone vibrates. I pick it up, and there’s a new email in my inbox—one from Connor. As if he could read my mind, his email is a simple one:

Let’s see how much you trust me.

I look from my phone to the vibrator on my bed stand, and then back to my phone.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, I think to myself as I pick the bullet up and, breathing deeply, hike my skirt up to my waist. I push my thong to the side and, pursing my lips, I manage to slide it inside of my pussy.

After straightening my skirt again I take a few steps around the room, trying to get a feel for how it’s like to walk around with something like that jammed inside of me; to my surprise, it’s not uncomfortable at all. Still, I can’t believe that I’m allowing Connor to drag me into this.

I must be out of my mind.

10

Connor

I swear to fucking God it looks like Natalie is shaking as she walks into the conference room.

I know I'm laughing inside, love. Trust me, it's really hard to keep a straight fucking face knowing what I know and what must be going through that girl's head right now.

I'm sitting there in the conference room of the Gage Price headquarters in Midtown and let me tell you, if I didn't have this little remote control for the bullet to give me something to look forward to, I'd probably be tearing my hair out by now.