🌹🌹The Swedish Prince 🌹🌹
🌸🌸(ROYAL r0m@nç£) 🌸🌸
🌹Chapter 20🌹
🔞
Maggie’s P.O.V❤️
He manages to pu-ll my un-derwear halfway down my th!ghs with just his mouth until he gets impatient and basically bites the stra-p, snapping it in half.
“Hey,” I tell him, looking up. Those were my only nice ones!
He stares at me with raw impatience. “I’ll buy you another pair.”
“From where? Disneyla–” but the rest of my s£ntence dies on my ton-gue when he yanks my th!ghs ap@rt and buries his head between them, his hands on my th!ghs and pressing ha-rd enough to leave bruises.
I immediately stiffen at the first contact of his ton-gue and then I start to melt.
Oh…I’m melting.
Right into his mouth.
He fli-cks the ti-p of his ton-gue over my cl!t and instantly I am dissolving into a sea of stars while a galaxy at my middle whirls ti-ghter, ti-ghter.
No, this won’t take long at all.
“You taste so perfect,” he m0@n s into me and I instinctively gr-ab the t©p of his head, my f!ngerswinding in his hair and holding his head against me, though I think I couldn’t pu-ll him away even if I tried.
“So sweet, so beautiful. A lavender ocean. I could taste you forever.”
His words trail off into gr-unts and little m0@n s, telling me how much he’s enjoying this, enjoying me.
“Oh my goodness ,” I cry out, feeling like I’m losing oxygen alre-ady as his ton-gue plunges de-ep inside me.
My h!ps rock and I feel like I’m being too demanding for wanting more but from the way he’s gripping my h!ps, squee-zing my delicate skin and pumping his ton-gue in and out of me, I know he wants to give it.
Something h0t and electric starts to build in my core, working its way up my spine, and I’m growing more frantic for my re-lease. I want to come so badly it’s driving me crazy and yet I want this to last forever, the sight of his head between my legs, his mouth we-t and open and ruthless as he li-cks me out.
I am being devoured.
I am being ravaged.
I am…
Oh Goodness, “I’m coming,” I say, breathless, and the world pauses in that heavy, silent, slow-motion moment before the bomb goes off. “I’m–”
A cord is pu-ll-ed de-ep inside me and I am yanked into another world, a shooting star made of fire and livewires and I’m calling out his name, “Viktor, Viktor, oh goodness” and I’m practically whimpering as I come back to earth, my b©dy convulsing, my th!ghs squee-zing both sides of his head.
“Was that good?” he asks a moment later.
I’m still struggling to catch my breath, my b©dy overs-en-sitive, my heart so loud and fast in my head that I can’t think straight. I look to see him staring at me eagerly, framed by my th!ghs, his mouth we-t, glistening on a curved smile.
There are pieces of lavender in his hair.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “Yeah…I…”
There are no words.
But he has words.
“That was for you,” he says, his voice taking on this low, guttural tone. “This is for me.”
He stands up at the foot of the be-d and starts str!pping.
The shi-t that was p@rtially un-bu-ttoned is now thrown to the floor.
His shoes are kicked away. Socks peeled off.
His hands go to his p@n-ts, unbuckles his belt with stealthy confidence, and my eyes go from his face to his che-st to his abs to now his un-derwear as he pu-lls down his bo-xer briefs and steps out of them.
I know I’ve seen Viktor like this before. n-ked.
But I’ve never seen him like this before.
d!¢k extended, large and ha-rd .
For me.
I still stand by what I thought the first day that I saw him n-ked, that I would love to svçkhis d!¢k.
He can tell, too.
Perhaps he wants to pretend it’s that day all over again.
I bring it up as he walks toward me, his c0ckha-rd as it juts out between us. I’m ba-rely able to take my eyes away from it.
“Pretend you were that stranger on the first day?” he questions.
He shakes his head and st©ps right in front of me. “No. I don’t want a stranger to svçkme off. I nee-d it to be you. I’ve dreamed about that lush peach mouth of yours for days.”
fv¢k. He doesn’t mince words. I wonder how dirty his thoughts are in Swedish.
I sit up and he wra-ps his hand around the base of his d!¢k and holds it near myl-ips. “su-ck,” he demands. “Min lilla persika.”
I swallow ha-rd , unsure of what that means, unsure if I can fit him all in my mouth but I’m more than willing to try. I reach out and hold him in my hand, feeling his h0t, smooth shaft pulse in my palm.
I’m turned on again in a second.
I look up and meet his eyes and he’s staring down at me with a look that can only be called car-nal , his eyes urging me to go on.
My grip around his c0ckti-ght£ñs and he lets go and slowly pushes his h!ps forward until his c0ckslides in my mouth. The salt of him hits my ton-gue, creating another wave of nee-d throu-gh me and as he pushes throu-gh myl-ips, his hands glide into my hair.
He gro-an s and I can feel him grow even ha-rder, like steel. In my mouth he feels fat and swollen, and sometimes he’s pushing in ha-rd , it’s impossible to accommod@t£ all of him.
But I try, l!çk!ng and su-cking, the suction sounds and we-tness filling the air and I’m pumping him into my mouth fas-ter and fas-ter, occasionally razing him with my teeth which only makes him m0@n louder.
“fv¢k,” he says and then mutters something in Swedish as he abruptly pu-lls out. “I’ll come in your mouth later. Now I want to come in you.”
The thought, as much as I want it, makes me pause.
“Are you with protec-tion ?” I ask. “I mean do you have one?”
Do we nee-d one? That’s what I’m really asking.
He looks at me with glazed eyes until he blinks some clarity back into them. “I do.” He clears his throat. “I am clean though. I get tested regularly, it’s well, they’re very adamant about health check-ups. Are you on the pill?”
I nod. “Yes and I’ve been tested. Recently. When I c@m£ back to California.” I pause, not sure if I should continue or not. “I haven’t had S-x since I c@m£ back. For over a year.”
He ba-rely reacts. “Then I should make this worth your while.”
You alre-ady have, I think.
And then he’s pushing me back on the be-d again, k!ss!ngme, l!çk!ng me, consuming my whole b©dy for the second time, his c0ckpressing against me here and there as we find our sp©ts in the sheets.
He grips un-der my as-s, pu-lling it up toward him and then gets between my legs, determination on his brow.
I’m so we-t still that the slightest movement forward and he sli-ps in.
Oh…fv¢k.
“Maggie,” he gro-an s, pinching his eyes shut as he buries his head into my n£¢k and I can feel his h0t, ragged breath, alre-ady struggling for control. “The things I want to do to you, I don’t think I can do them all this time.”
“There will be other times,” I manage to say, my hands sliding over his shoulders, down his arms, pricking him lightly with my f!ngernails as he pushes in further and I spre-ad around his thick girth. I’ve never felt so…full. So taken.
So his.
“Yes, tonight,” he says and the way the words hang in the air I realize tonight and tomorrow and the next night are all we have to do all the things we want to do with each other.
Life just isn’t fair.
“Don’t think,” he whispers in my ear before taking my lobe in his teeth and tugging. I feel like a million sparks are raining down my spine. “Don’t think, just feel.”
I am feeling.
Everything.
“Just don’t ever st©p”I tell him.
“fv¢k,” he growls and then he slams his h!ps forward until he’s pushed all the way in. It feels like he’s pushed the air right out of my lungs.
I g@sp loudly and he presses his hand over my mouth, over my cheek, holding my head down with f0rç£ as he starts to fv¢k me at a punishing pace, his h!ps strong and relentless as they drive his d!¢k in and out. My brea-sts jostle from each thrû-st, the be-d starts to creak and move, I can ha-rd ly focus on anything, my grip digging in ti-ghter in a wild attempt to hold on.
“You feel so good,” he gr-unts into my n£¢k, one hand now pinning my arms above my head, while the other slides between us and starts tapping my cl!t. “Come for me again, I want to see your face as you’re coming. I want to see what you look like when you call my name, when I’m fv¢king you so good. Helvete.”
Holy $h!t, this dirty talking Swedish bastard is going to be the death of me.
He hisses and then stabs forward, sinking in so damn de-ep I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. I feel like I’m being folded in half. I cry out, half in pain, half because it feels so amazing that nothing, no one, will ever satisfy me again.
“Oh my Maggie,” he says before cursing some more in Swedish. “You were made for me, weren’t you? This, your amazing cunt, it’s so perfect, too perfect.” He gro-an s, his head thrown back, sweat trick-ling down his throat and then snaps forward again, fas-ter, ha-rder. My hands trail down to his h!ps, his as-s, gr-abbing on desperately.
Lavender is flying everywhere.
My th!ghs start to shake and the pressure from his sli-ck f!ngersincrease. There are no neat and tidy circles, instead it’s sliding all over the place with every relentless pump into me but I don’t nee-d much.
“You like this, don’t you my Maggie,” he growls at me, staring at me with the wild eyes of someone completely raw and primal, operating on the basic instinct to fv¢k and fv¢k. “You love my d!¢k, how it fills you, how de-ep I am inside you.”
I can’t even answer him. My world is spinning ti-ghter until there’s nothing else but him and me. No h0tel, no be-d, no people in the world outside. Just us and the smell of musk and lavender.
My eyes shut and I grow ti-ght and then it’s just “Oh god!” and my Orgasm crashes over me again and I’m no longer myself, no longer in my b©dy, the only thing I am is this boneless thing that’s spouting off words and sounds that make no s-en-se at all.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” he says and sli-ps out of me. “Like your innocence is banished in front of my eyes.”
I’m still not quite here so it takes me a moment to realize he’s pu-ll-ed out and then I’m disappointed and bereft at his abs£nce.
But when I open my eyes, he’s hovering over me, sli-pping an arm un-derneath my back and fli-pping me over on my stomach.
“Up, to the wall,” he says gruffly and I feel his c0ckpress against my as-s for a moment. “On your knees.”
My legs are jelly and I don’t have much strength but I somehow manage to crawl to the t©p of the be-d and get on my knees, facing the wall, my palms flat pressed against the headboard.
He comes up behind me and I look down to see each sinewy th!gh capture me on either side, then he pushes down between my shoulder blades until my back is arched into a U and my as-s sticks out against him.
I feel his f!ngersslide between my legs, then position his c0ck.
He enters me in a single long push and I’m flat up against the head board again, g@sping. From this angle, I’m feeling him everywhere.
“Can you come again for me?” he whispers in my ear as he begins to pump. He wra-ps a hand over my throat. “What if it’s rou-gher? Would you like that?”
Yes, plea-se. Anything. I would give this man anything right now.
I nod and the grip on my throat grows ti-ghter as he starts rolling his h!ps into me, fas-ter, ha-rder. I can feel my as-s jiggle with every thrû-st, the be-d shakes and I can ba-rely breathe and I’m overwhelmed and overheated and…
“fv¢k, this, this,” he hisses at my ear. “You fv¢k so good.”
His thrû-sts become brutal and I feel like he might just break me in two or shatter me into a million pieces and he has lost his mind to me or I have lost my mind, my b©dy, my soul to his.
Then his f!ngersslide over my belly, finding my cl!t once more, swollen and we-t and wanting and nee-ding and greedy, I’m so greedy for him, to come again, to…
I come in an instant and his grip on my n£¢k ti-ght£ñs and I’m seeing stars.
And I’m loud.
The kind of loud that gets you noise complaints but in this second it doesn’t matter. I am stardust and delirious as the Orgasm rips throu-gh me once again, turning me inside out. The world starts to blacken a little at the edges and I’m vaguely aware that he’s still choking me, still pounding me, with this ruthless f0rç£ that causes the headboard to slam again and again.
Then his hand becomes a vice, just for a painful second as he pauses and then he completely let’s go of me, his pumps slowing.
I g@sp for breath and he cries out, a rou-gh and ragged bellow that fills the space around us like a battle cry. Right now he is more of a Viking warrior than he is a Swedish prince.
He coll@pses against my back and I’m pressed flat against the headboard and wall and sweat pools off his b©dy and onto mine. He’s breathing ha-rd , I don’t even know where I am. We take a few minutes to come back and when my thoughts and clarity return, I swear I’m a different person altogether now.
He pu-lls out and runs his hand down my damp spine before giving my as-s a little sl@p. Then he falls to the be-d, gr-abbing my arm so I coll@pse beside him.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, pu-lling me toward him so my back is to his che-st, k!ss!ngmy ear. “I don’t wish to be too rou-gh with my Maggie.”
“You weren’t too rou-gh,” I say, my heart is still a marching band in my che-st, the sweat on my b©dy starting to cool. “You were…you were good. You were ma-king me come three times kind of good. Which is a lot better than good.”
“Always more, never less,” he says.
I smile at that and everything inside me seems to smile too. Beams of light and bu-tterflies and happiness. I’m sated and content and I love how he goes from a wild man bent on fv¢king the hell out of me to one adoring and doting me with his tenderness.
“Next time, I will last longer,” he tells me, pu-lling me closer still so I’m nestled un-der his arm, my head on his che-st.
“How much longer can you last?” I chuckle.
“For you? I want to last forever. I never want this to end.”
Damn.
That kicks me in the gut.
Now that the throes of Orgasm are wearing off, I’m back into this sticky reality, the one in which the two of us only have a few days with each other.
There is no forever with us.
There never was.
I close my eyes and breathe him in.
He smells like lavender.
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THE NEXT DAY🏙️🏙️
Having lived almost my whole life only two and a bit hours away from LA, you’d think that I would have been to the city of angels a lot. But as I had told Viktor, the only time I remember was for a wedding, some relative on my dad’s side.
I remember seeing Venice Beach and being enamored by the sand and the seagulls and that bright blue Pacific but that was about it.
What I really wanted was to go to Disneyland. There were multi-ple kids in my grade with annual pas-ses, I remember thinking they were the riche-st kids in the world, practically royalty.
Now I’m with actual royalty. Funny how life works.
Standing outside the gates to the Magic Kingdom, with an actual god damn prince by my side, a prince who outshines any of the ones in the park, a prince who would have his own kingdom, his own country, one day. A prince who…
Is smoking a joint?
I thought Viktor was right behind me as we were walking toward the ticket booths but now I’ve turned around to see him off to the side and smoking a joint, a puff of smoke falling from his mouth and wafting around him.
“Really?” I ask him, coming over. “Pot?”
He nods and squints at me, taking the joint away from hisl-ips. “I smoke quite often at home. When no one is looking, of course. Usually if I happen to visit Magnus. He’s the prince of Norway,” he explains.
Pot smoking princes, huh?
He tries to hand it off to me but I shake my head. I’m no angel but I’m about to step into Disneyland. I don’t nee-d that $h!t. I’m about to get high on churros.
“Where did you get it anyway?” I ask him.
He nods over at the busy intersection. “Bought it from the homeless fellow on the corner.”
My mouth drops open. “You did not!”
He sm-irks at me and has another drag. b!ows out the smoke. God he looks S-xy with his eyes all squinty like that. “I picked it up in Colorado on the way here.”
“You’re lucky it’s legal in California. The last thing you nee-d is for your as-s to be thrown in jail. What kind of a headline would that be?”
“Not a good one,” he says and then stubs out the joint, fli-cks it in the nearest wastebasket and holds out his arm for me. “Let’s go.”
Because this was a last minute addition to our agenda, we’re only at the park for one day which sadly means that we have to choose one park instead of both.
As much as I want to go to California Adventure and ride the Grizzly River ra-pids or California Screaming, we’ve decided on just visiting the OG (original gangster), Disneyland.
Honestly though, it was a ha-rd decision. With only so many days left with each other, p@rt of me didn’t even want come. I wanted to stay in the h0tel room with Viktor and continue to have him fv¢k my br@ins out.
Though we fell asleep right after last night, both of us exhausted, especially me for having come three times, this morning we woke up and blindly groped for each other in the dark and got back at it. S-x in the shower followed right after.
But Viktor was looking forward to Disneyland too and I know we can’t do all of our getting to know each other in the be-droom. As much as my b©dy wants to get to know him better, my mind still wants to know his on the same level.
Either way, this trip would be a memory neither of us would ever forget. If someone ever brings up Disneyland in the future, I can think back and go, “Oh yeah, I went there once with the prince of Sweden.”
But who am I kidding? I won’t forget a single second of our time together, even just the boring stuff like standing in line forever at In & Out and talking sma-ck about everyone else in front of us.
We didn’t get a chance to order our Disney tickets online, so we end up in yet another line to get our tickets (thankfully it wasn’t as long as the one for burgers) and then we’re into the park. In seconds I am just smitten. The sounds, the sights, the smells…god, all of Main Street smells like heaven.
“Oh my god, it’s Pluto,” I cry out, pointing at the character with a line of kids waiting patiently for their pictures to be taken with him. Then I sp©t Goofy. “Oh my god, it’s Goofy!”
“I don’t know what’s worse,” he says.
I blink at Viktor, re-ady to go on the defensive if he says any $h!t about either character. “What?”
“How fv¢king adorable you look right now or how much this is turning me on.”
I sma-ck him across the che-st pla-yfully, my hand bouncing back like I’ve sl@pped a bunch of bricks. “You can’t get turned on at Disneyland. It’s gotta be a rule.”
He shrugs. “You obviously don’t know me. I can get turned on anywhere.” He flashes me a wicked grin. “I bet I can turn you on anywhere too.”
“Oh hush,” I tell him, gr-abbing his hand and leading him further into the park.
It’s almost summer and even though kids are still at school, the park is crowded. Maybe it’s always this crowded. Everywhere I look there are people, large families, couples with babies, couples without kids, people that look like they’re about to run a marathon throu-gh the park, old people on scooters, Donald Duck.
Normally crowds of this size would give me some anxiety but here it doesn’t affect me, not when I’m hanging onto Viktor. His size and pres£nce seems to command attention and make people p@rt in from of him.
“Where to?” he asks as we pause at the end of Main Street.
I don’t even have to consult the map. I nod at slee-ping Beauty’s castle.
“The castle.”
He looks at it and squints. “You call that a castle?
🌸T. B. C🌸
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