Tabloid Princess, page 23
Shifting over me, one of his long and slender hands hooked under my thigh, pulling it up to fit over his hip. His erection pressed against the sensitive flesh in between my legs. I flung my head back, giving him full access to any bit of me he wanted.
His lips trailed back down my throat, lower, until they hovered back over my nipple. He sucked it, harder this time, into his mouth, twirling it with his tongue. While I arched and writhed, the hand on my thigh drifted higher, and then danced along the edge of my knickers. I sucked in a breath as his fingers dipped below the material, wandering effectively into no man’s land.
He knew. I could sense it in his slow and deliberate touch.
“Please don’t hold back,” I whimpered. “Please.” I clung onto his shoulders, lifting my hips, begging his fingers to delve where I wanted them most.
As one slid deep within me, I shuddered hard. He watched me intently as he added another, gliding them in and out, smooth as silk while his thumb pressed on the sensitive nub of my clit.
Oh God.
It was too much.
Closing my eyes, I arched my arms above my head as his fingers gently massaged deeper and deeper inside. With every thrust he took them further. The third finger created a tingle in my toes, my clit pulsed a little.
I may not be experienced, but I knew the feeling for my own.
“Oliver.” I clutched at him, keeping my eyes shut, knowing he was watching me slowly come apart under his touch.
I didn’t fight it. I let it wash over me, pulling me out to a sea, casting me adrift, as a battering of uncontrollable waves gently lapped over me.
When I opened my eyes, I found his startling green gaze focused on my face. Stretching with a smile, I pulled him down to meet my lips. “Ollie. I want to feel you.”
His body tightened, his muscles straining. I gave him a smile, my hand slipping between us, edging down his boxers.
Without a word, he reached over the bedside cabinet and pulled out a small silver packet which he pulled open and then unrolled the condom along his length. I stared mesmerised. I had nothing to gauge it against, but he seemed perfectly formed to me; a gift from the gods.
I wiggled out of my wet knickers and waited for his next move.
His gaze burned up my naked body, resting on my sex. He pulled my legs apart, edging them wide.
I wanted to hide, but the monster growled, telling me to stay in place. His fingers danced back between my legs. The skin there ached at his touch; part satisfied, part still famished with wanton hunger.
Shifting his hips, he positioned himself at my entrance, his tip dipping in where I wanted him most.
“Tell me if I hurt you.” He tilted closer and then thrust inside. It stung for a moment and then he thrust again, deeper and harder. His finger palmed my hair, smoothing the strands as I gasped and moved with him. The third push connected us fully. He tilted my chin and gently kissed my lips, slipping himself back out and then pushing back.
A wave of need crested within me as he settled into a deep and delicious rhythm. Every push, every thrust, pushed me higher. I held onto his shoulder, kissing his skin, pulling his hair.
I lifted my hips to meet him, so he’d go deeper still. He groaned, shivering almost as he rocked backwards and forwards and I met him at every push.
The tingle returned but it had no familiarity to anything I’d ever known. Wild and all encompassing, it bashed over me so hard I could have drowned in it.
“Oliver.” I clutched him tighter, pulling him closer. Every stroke he pushed inside me had me gripping on for dear life.
“Leia.” Pushing up onto his knees he thrust harder and harder, the bed groaned beneath us.
I didn’t care.
Nothing mattered.
Nothing.
I shouted, my breath mixing with my cry until it sounded like a tortured rip straight from my soul.
He slammed home one last time, driving us together and then shuddered, pulsing inside me.
I huffed a breath as he collapsed on me, his hands smoothing my hair, his lips on my mouth.
“Are you okay?” He went to pull out, but I held him still. I didn’t want to ever not feel him there.
“Don’t move.”
“Are you hurt?” His expression flashed with concern.
“No. No, I’m perfect.”
“I could have told you that.” His mouth curved into my favourite smile.
He watched me and I watched him. Then he slipped out of me and did whatever it is he needed to do with the condom before settling at my side, pulling me tight into his arms. “Can you stay a while?”
I stopped myself from answering, ‘Forever’, and instead snuggled into his hold.
One thing was perfectly clear. Our love could never be exposed. To do so would destroy us all. Destroy everything
Twenty-Three
Nana eyed me over the kitchen table. Her face said it all. No words were needed.
“What?” I squirmed.
“Do I get anything, even one detail? I mean come on, Leia. You played with the crown jewels!”
My mouth fell open for a split second. “No! Nana don’t be disgusting.”
She chuckled and picked up a paper. The front-page image showed Oliver being driven somewhere, his head resting in his hands. Clandestine Heir: Prince spotted leaving secret dates.
“It’s rubbish. They don’t know he was here during the week.”
“During the week, Leia?” Nana’s mouth fell open.
Oh, did I forget to mention that?
“It was nothing.” I waved it off and tried not to look at the paper. Oliver’s expression was tense, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He hadn’t seemed like that here.
I didn’t want to ruin my memories of the night before with the concerns of today. Naive I know, but to exist in our little bubble for a while longer, seemed the preferred option.
“Leia, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
My hand banged on the table making us both jump. “You said you wanted me to be happy.”
“And I do, and you seem it. But you saw what the press did to you just the other week on nothing more than a rumour alone. What will they do when it comes out about the two of you? And it will.”
“It doesn’t have to, not yet. No one has to know.”
“I think that’s very silly, and honestly dangerous. Do you love him?”
“Nana! For goodness’ sake; it’s been a few weeks.”
“I know you, Leia. And I know how much it takes for you to trust.”
I tried very hard to be angry with her prying, but I couldn’t, not really. Nana had stuck with me through everything. “I think I might do.”
She sighed and a pang of disappointment clattered in my chest.
“You don’t like him?”
“No. I think he’s amazing, handsome, polite, and kind. In fact, when I met him yesterday, I could have fancied him a bit myself. But I worry for you.”
“Nana, don’t. This will stay quiet for a while, and he just wants to get to know Daisy. I mean that’s a good thing, right? He’s worked out pretty quick that she’s my most important thing and he’s willing to earn her love too.”
“I think it’s very noble. Not many guys would be willing to make the effort after just a couple of dates. But, Leia. He’s going be the king. What happens if you survive the press and this carries on. What happens then?”
“Nana, you are getting way ahead of yourself.”
“It’s what old ladies do. We think and worry about everything.”
“Old my arse. Anyway,” I swiftly changed the conversation. “What are you going to do today?”
I literally bounced on my seat.
“Should the question be what are you going to do today?”
“Eeek. I don’t know. He said it was a surprise.”
She shook her head but softened it with a smile. “Looks like I’ll be having a roast dinner for one. What a shame, and I got Yorkshire puddings in.”
“Oh, don’t give me that.” I pulled a face. “Why don’t you invite that man over you’ve been ‘dating’. You could wow him with your roast potatoes.”
Nana stood. “I don’t need roast potatoes to do that, Leia.”
I cringed and pulled another face as she chuckled and leant down to give me a kiss.
“We’ll come for a roast next week. I promise.”
She arched an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”
“No, we will. I promise.”
“Will you be needing me to get Daisy this week? Are you going to work?”
I turned to her, a frown creasing my forehead. “Nana, nothing has changed. Everything will be the same.”
She reached down and gave me a squeezing hug. “You believe that for as long as you like, Leia.” She chuckled some more as she picked up her belongings and went to say goodbye to Daisy.
I paused for a moment, mulling over what she said. I could sense the truth of it. But at the same time, I could almost feel my tangible grip on reality slipping through my hands. I could feel it, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop it. Not at all.
An hour later, Daisy and I walked around the corner to where a driver sat in a car. It wasn’t Bill. At last the poor guy got a day off.
“Miss Lawrence, I’m Eric.”
I nodded my greeting and fastened Daisy into the booster seat. “Hi.”
“Just a short drive today, Ma’am.”
“Where are we going?”
He didn’t say anything and pulled the car off into the traffic.
“Why didn’t Oliver come to meet us, Mummy?” Daisy’s question pulled my attention down.
“I don’t know, maybe he had important things to do.” I sighed and decided lying was of no benefit to any of us. “You know he’s a prince, and we’ve asked you not to tell anyone you get to see him?”
She nodded, her blue eyes focused on my face.
“Well, because he’s a prince, people want to know where he is all the time. Lots of people with cameras try to take pictures of him.”
“Like they did with you the other week on the way to school?”
“Exactly like that, Daisy! But for Oliver it’s worse. They never stop. So sometimes, I guess he might want to come and see us, but it’s hard for him to do.”
She nodded, far too understanding for a six-year-old.
I asked my burning question, despite the fact I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. “Did you like him yesterday, Daisy? It must have been strange for you.”
She thought about it for a moment. “I had fun. I loved the ponies…” she trailed off.
“But?”
“I liked seeing you smile more.”
My eyes filled with tears, which I brushed at with my hands.
“Do you think people will try to take our picture now we are friends with Ollie?” My heart almost burst at hearing her make him sound so normal.
“He’s trying very hard to make that not happen. Neither of us want you in the newspaper.”
She shrugged. “I guess if that’s what happens to him, and we want to play with him, then it could.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s hope not.”
The car began to slow, and I stared out of the window gulping as the high walls of St Mark’s Palace came into view. The press was there, of course, and I automatically slunk down in the back seat. Although I knew they wouldn’t be able to see through the tinted glass, it was unnerving all the same.
“The palace?” Daisy peered up and then turned her head to the side glancing around the courtyard.
“What are you looking for?”
“I wondered if we were going to see Daisy the pony. Maybe his car is here waiting for us again?”
We both looked, but the dark blue Land Rover wasn’t in sight.
He was though. Springing down the steps, in faded grey jeans and a casual checked shirt. My heart faltered the moment I saw him. I’d done a convincing job of acting normal so far, pushing the electric memories of the previous night to the back of my head so I could parent on a partway useful level.
One glance at him undid all that. I flushed and burned as bright as a bonfire. Images of his hands on my skin, our bodies tangled, flickered like an old-fashioned photo reel.
He opened the door and helped Daisy out, bowing deep to her as he did so. When his eyes lifted to mine, he smirked like he knew exactly what thoughts I had running through my head.
“Miss Lawrence.”
“Your Royal Highness.” I couldn’t help but glance at the roof, checking to see if the flag flew to confirm whether his parents were home.
He leant in, his breath brushing my skin. “Don’t worry, we have the place to ourselves.”
“Really?”
“Sure. This place is empty more often than people realise. It’s just us and the staff.”
“Staff?” I gulped.
“Again, don’t worry. We are going somewhere far better than inside the palace.” He turned to Daisy. “Would you like to see a real princess’ garden?”
She nodded, her eyes wide, before she flicked to them to me to check. I shrugged. This was far out of my hands now.
“Sounds great,” I mumbled.
He pointed at a path that led right down the centre of the lawns. It stopped halfway, becoming circular, holding an impressive fountain that poured water up and out. After the circle for the fountain, the pathway carried on further than the eyes could see. “Straight down there,” he said to Daisy.
She gave a shout and ran in the direction he pointed. I went to call her back, but his fingers slipped into mine.
“Oliver, people will see.” I pulled my hand away—unsuccessfully.
“Who?” He bunched his dark eyebrows.
“Staff? Anyone really.”
He stopped me, wheeling me around. “Leia. No one within these walls will hurt us. Every member of staff is loyal to us.”
“But surely they aren’t just your staff? They are your parents' too, right?”
“True. I have my own too, at Greystone etc, but it doesn’t matter. I’m the future king. Their loyalty is to me, whether they actually like me or not.” He laughed ruefully.
“So basically, you pay people to like you?”
“Sad but true.” He grinned and shook his head, his gaze searching me with that questioning glance. “You truly are unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
My own grin smeared across my face. As swift as lightning he came closer, brushing a kiss across my mouth. The responding fiery storm that sparked inside me took my breath away. “Don’t, Daisy is here,” I mumbled against his mouth.
He pulled away, his eyes dancing. “Best behaviour.”
“One hundred percent.” His one hundred percent was only around eighty-five though, because he didn’t let go of my hand as we walked along after Daisy.
Eventually, the path ended at an ancient brick wall. History wasn’t my thing, but it looked to be an older building than the palace itself. A small aged wooden door with an old-fashioned handle sat in the otherwise blank wall.
Oliver must have read my mind. “One of the requisitions of the dissolution was that a lot of the old monasteries got handed to the crown. St Mark’s is built on one of the sites, much like that graveyard where we sat the second time we met,” he explained.
I swallowed. That moment in the graveyard had changed my entire existence.
“Some of the older outer walls are still the same, and within the palace itself there are still original pieces that have been built onto. The chapel is original, and quite beautiful. It’s one of my favourite places.”
I knew of course about St Edwin’s chapel; everyone knew of it, but no one had seen it. Whilst The Royal Family attended church in the Welsh moorlands when visiting the big royal estate at times like Christmas, the chapel itself with St Mark’s was strictly private.
“Where is the princess’ garden?” Daisy asked, obviously flummoxed by our walk hitting a literal brick wall. Oliver pulled a key from his pocket.
“This has been here a long time. My great grandmother had it as a gift for her fifth birthday, and it’s been added to over the years. My own sister Isabella used to play here too.” His voice hardened. We hadn’t spoken much about his family, apart from of course what John had done, but I remembered his words about his family wishing Isabella wasn’t high or drunk all the time. I reached out and squeezed his arm.
He flashed me a smile and then bent down to Daisy. “So, this in here is a royal secret. Many princesses have had parties in here for generations, while all the people outside never knew what happened in here.”
Daisy almost vibrated with excitement. Oliver straightened up and turned the key in the lock.
He pushed open the door, the surrounding ivy swayed with the movement. I jumped back, fearing an eight-legged attack. Oliver laughed and reached for my hand. Daisy peered in and then stepped over the boundary, gasping loudly. I went to follow but Oliver held me back, his lips landing on mine, stealing a moment while Daisy had her attention captured.
When he finally released me, he turned and held out his hand. “Come on, Princess Leia.”
I growled. “You know, I hate my mum for many things, but my name has to be the worst at the moment.”
He chuckled and tucked me into his side. “I like it.”
I rolled my eyes, but any rebuke evaporated from my lips. “Oh my god.” I stared at the scene in front of me utterly open mouthed. I couldn’t control my surprise. Through the old wall and ancient door lay a secret garden. I’d never seen anything so magical.
A fairy secret garden. Sculpted flower fairies sat in wildflowers—wildflowers that were all beautifully trained to creep and twine where needed. The flowerbeds were awash with pinks and purples despite the end of summer. Toadstools and arches lined small pathways and in the middle was a playhouse that wasn’t a playhouse at all. It was a castle, gleaming and white; a miniature version of St Mark’s Palace.
The garden was enclosed, with high walls along every edge, but inside the magical atmosphere made it light and airy. Fountains glittered water droplets, and glass ornaments reflected the sun, so the droplets turned to rainbows.
