My Prince Charming - A Steele Fairy Tale

I look in the fridge and see that we have whipped cream. I send a text to Edward and tell him we’re out of whipped cream as well. Dani and I pass the whipped cream back and forth, squirting it into each other’s mouths.

I don’t know how long we’re doing that while giggling, but we didn’t hear the guys return. “I’m glad you said to get double of everything, son.” We turn to them and arch our brows, and then snatch the bags.

“Yes, because there’s not enough for you two.”

Edward walks up to me and slides his arms around my waist. “Are you sure? I can lick it off your sweet little pussy.”

“Maybe I have enough,” I moan quietly.

“I think we’re going to take our ice cream to go.” Dani grabs a bag, and my father-in-law scoops her up and out of the house.

“I got a banana for your whipped cream, my princess.”

“I’ve had enough whipped cream, but I definitely want your banana.” We forget about the ice cream as he carries me to bed to enjoy a special dessert. I find myself on my back with my sexy husband shoving down my panties and pants and then tugging them completely off.

I must have missed it, but he pulls out the whipped cream. “You may have had your fill, but I haven’t. Pie is always better with a dollop of cream on top.” I feel the cool cream hit my pussy and my hips rock upward. “Stay still,” he growls, pressing his tongue between my folds, swiping some cream from the top and my middle. I’m on the verge of coming just from the idea and then he works his magic on me, sucking on my mound until I’m screaming.

“Edward,” I moan, gripping the strands of his hair while I ride his face. As I come down, I release my hold and slide my hands down over his broad shoulders. His knees nudge my thighs, making room for him to fit between, and he pushes his length into me with his hands on my hips. I miss the feel of his body firmly on top of mine in this position, but I toss a pillow behind my head and watch his taut frame work me as he pumps into my warmth. He’s one sexy man from head to toe as his muscles strain in his attempt to take it easy on me.

“Enough,” I hiss. I need more. “I want you to fuck me.” I turn around and slide onto my knees. “Take me like this, my prince.” He growls and drives into me hard.

“You want it hard, baby?” he hisses as he leans over my body. A thin sheen of sweat spreads along our bodies, allowing just enough friction to glide smoothly.

“Yes,” I stutter out, thighs shaking with lustful need. His strong, skilled hands slide under me to cup my sensitive, swollen breasts, plucking on my nipples.

I cry out, squeezing his cock, coming and taking him with me. I drop to my side, and he lies behind me.

“Damn, I’ve never cared for whipped cream, but it’s now my favorite treat.” He growls and kisses me before wrapping his arms around my belly, and we fall asleep.

Ten Years Later

Edward

“No running by the pool, boys,” Ella yells out as she gets our youngest, Diana, into her pink swim vest. She’s just learning to swim, and we don’t take their safety lightly. Ella’s such an incredible mother, and I make sure to let her know it too. I’m working the grill alongside my father.

It’s my thirty-seventh birthday, and my life couldn’t be any better with my four kids and another on the way: three boys and soon to be two girls.

“Boys,” I warn them, emphasizing their mother’s command. They slow down, and boom—one goes down. I set my tongs on the table and make my way to my son. He’s nine and lanky like I was at his age before I filled out. “Are you okay?” I ask, giving my hand to help him up, but he doesn’t take it. Stubborn—I’m not sure where he gets that from.

“Yes. I’m fine.” He stands up and then goes to sit down in his chair away from the pool. We have a rule in the house that if you take a spill, you have to sit it out to make sure you’re okay, especially when it comes to going swimming. Ella rushes to his side, babying him as she checks for bruises, swelling, and cuts, which he hates.

“I’m fine, Mom. You don’t have to worry.”

She giggles and pats his knee. “I’ll always worry. I’m your mom. It’s in the job description.”

“Boys never whisten,” Diana exclaims as she stands where Mommy left her, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her three-year-old hips. She has sass enough for all of them combined.