My Forbidden Royal Fling

He is skilled and intuitive, driving me to the brink of ecstasy many times before drawing me back, tormenting me with his easy mastery of my body, showing that he can control my pleasure with ease.

I don’t know how long he does this for, but it’s long enough for me to feel delirious with desire, a heat building inside me that is crazy for release. I plead with him over and over, his name on my lips a garbled cry until he kisses me, weaves our fingers together and finally tips me over. He drives me over the edge of awareness, heaving me from this earthly plane so that I’m in freefall, conscious only of surrender—his and mine—as his body is racked with breaths, his strength throbbing inside me. A guttural cry rents the air before he kisses me once more, murmuring Spanish words I don’t understand into my mouth.

Tears burn my eyes and I can’t stop them. The sheer perfection of what I just experienced defies explanation. I know people talk about sex, and I got that it’s meant to be amazing, but I had no idea it could be so completely earth-shattering.

I blink to clear the tears, not wanting him to see them, needing a moment to gather myself even as he’s still buried within me.

He pushes up onto his elbows to look down at me, scanning my face and, I’m sure, seeing far more than I wish to expose.

‘And so the Princesa was a virgin,’ he murmurs, a hint of something in his face I can’t comprehend.

‘Was it that obvious?’

‘To me.’

My heart stammers. It occurs to me that I must have been pathetically boring after the women he’s used to sleeping with. He kisses the corner of my mouth, taking my self-conscious fears with him. ‘Did I hurt you?’

I shake my head. ‘At first, a little. But no. That was...’ I search for the right word, then smile.

‘Freja.’

I blink, because it’s unusual for him to use my name rather than my title. I like hearing it on his lips, in his accent. ‘If I had known, I would never have pursued you.’

‘Why not?’

His own features tighten. ‘Because a one-night stand is a very different consideration than being someone’s first lover. I have very little interest in the latter, generally.’

‘Then I’m glad you made an exception for me.’

He doesn’t respond to my quip.

‘The reason I like one-night stands is that there are no expectations beyond great sex.’

His logic baffles me. ‘Whereas the fact I’m a virgin means I must now be expecting a proposal?’ I tease, smiling to show how wrong he is.

His eyes are wary. ‘Or at least a relationship of sorts,’ he clarifies carefully.

‘I can’t have relationships,’ I say simply, the words hiding a pain buried deep in my heart, a pain born of jealousy for what I see as ‘normal’ for most of the world.

‘That makes less sense to me now than when you first said it.’

‘Think about it, Santiago. My life is an open book. Where would I meet someone? How would I date them? Break up with them? Heaven forbid I dated several men. My country is conservative, and the royal family is seen to be perfect, beyond reproach. I could never expose myself to that kind of gossip. I would never disgrace my parents’ memory.’

‘But surely behind closed doors...?’

‘There are very few closed doors in my life,’ I say wistfully. ‘I live in a palace that has hundreds of servants. They are good people, but still people, and people gossip. If a boyfriend snuck into my apartment at night, word would quickly get out, and before long articles would appear in the press.’

‘And would that be so bad?’

‘It’s easy for you,’ I say with a sigh. ‘You don’t care about stuff like this. Look at the stories that are written about you! The press loves to report on your lifestyle, your over-indulgences, on the fact you’re a “bad boy”.’ I smirk, because it’s such a perfect description of this man. ‘You could never understand how much I would hate that.’

‘I don’t love it,’ he replies, surprising me wit

h his honesty. ‘But nor do I give it much thought.’

‘But my job is to be the Queen my people deserve. That’s incompatible with the lifestyle you’re suggesting.’

‘I’m not suggesting you roll from one wild party to the next, but only that you might have dated from time to time.’