Paris and the Prince: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (Royal Weddings Book 1) by Mia Caldwell Page A
Authors: Mia Caldwell
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of her, but it was the first time it had ever felt so perfect. Every pulse of him, every throb of his exquisite manhood in her pussy, brought on another rush of euphoria.
As Paris rode atop Alex, every inhibition, every bit of self-consciousness she ever felt, dropped away. Alex looked up at her with eyes full of adoration, hands that couldn't get enough of just touching her, and Paris suddenly felt like the goddess Alex saw her to be. With her hands in her hair, she slid on and off him, feeling her own orgasm coming on her like summer storm.
He put his hands on her waist and cried out. “Paris… I'm about to—”
And with one epic thrust, they both exploded with delicious rapture. The sound of Alex's warm voice calling out her name made Paris' orgasm that much more intense, paired with the sensation of him filling her up inside, and in moments her whole body was wracked with shivers. She collapsed on Alex, the sweat of their sex soaking both of them head to toe.
As Paris gasped for air, her head resting on Alex's sinewy chest, he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her as tight as he was able. He whispered in her ear, “I'm not letting you go.”
----
W ith the lights of the city bathing their bodies with a soothing glow, still wrapped in each other's loving embrace, Alex and Paris drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Neither of them heard Alex's phone buzzing insistently from the pocket of his pants in the corner of the room. The screen lit up:
Whitney – 17 missed calls
The In-Laws – 10 missed calls
Mom – 1 missed call
11
W hitney couldn't explain why she was suddenly so pissed. But when the bartender refused to be roused from his drunken stupor, she found herself stewing over the fact that Alexander was planning to blow her off for the rest of their trip.
This wasn’t the first time, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last, and usually she didn’t care. They would lead separate lives, which suited her perfectly, but she also didn’t appreciate being ignored. The more he ignored her, the angrier she became.
They'd specifically come to this god-forsaken city for a few photo opportunities and to show off for the paparazzi, and yeah, he had some stupid political stuff to do, but now he wasn't going to see her at all? For five days? That was unacceptable.
She'd already put in several late night, drunken phone calls to her parents, who were also apparently hammered at some sort of cocktail party. After considerable pouting and empty threats of suicide (her trademark), her daddy had agreed to call Alexander's parents and make him, at the very least, show up at her fashion show the next day.
Once she'd cleared the mini-bar of all its liquor, and put a call in for more, she was starting to feel a little better.
Then, the bartender started to stir.
That was more like it.
----
I t was 4am in Dalvana . The private line in King Alexander and Queen Catriona’s bedroom was ringing off the hook. Alexander cursed at the ceiling and finally rolled over to pick it up. He hadn't even said “hello” when a drunken Leonard began screaming at him over the background noise of a party. Catriona rolled over, her sleep mask still obscuring her view of the room, but her ears still perfectly capable of hearing every word being shouted over the receiver.
Alexander lay back down and set the receiver on his stomach, letting Leonard yell into thin air. Cat pulled off her mask, sighed, and rolled over to her husband. “So what did our son do now?”
12
T he soft morning sun filled the bedroom with light, gently rousing Paris from a dreamless sleep. She stretched her arms out wide into the empty space around her, a deep yawn escaping her plump lips. As she reached out beside her, she realized all at once that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. A dingy little room hardly bigger than a broom closet at the hotel in the shady district of the city she had been staying at, this most definitely was not.
She blinked
As Paris rode atop Alex, every inhibition, every bit of self-consciousness she ever felt, dropped away. Alex looked up at her with eyes full of adoration, hands that couldn't get enough of just touching her, and Paris suddenly felt like the goddess Alex saw her to be. With her hands in her hair, she slid on and off him, feeling her own orgasm coming on her like summer storm.
He put his hands on her waist and cried out. “Paris… I'm about to—”
And with one epic thrust, they both exploded with delicious rapture. The sound of Alex's warm voice calling out her name made Paris' orgasm that much more intense, paired with the sensation of him filling her up inside, and in moments her whole body was wracked with shivers. She collapsed on Alex, the sweat of their sex soaking both of them head to toe.
As Paris gasped for air, her head resting on Alex's sinewy chest, he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her as tight as he was able. He whispered in her ear, “I'm not letting you go.”
----
W ith the lights of the city bathing their bodies with a soothing glow, still wrapped in each other's loving embrace, Alex and Paris drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Neither of them heard Alex's phone buzzing insistently from the pocket of his pants in the corner of the room. The screen lit up:
Whitney – 17 missed calls
The In-Laws – 10 missed calls
Mom – 1 missed call
11
W hitney couldn't explain why she was suddenly so pissed. But when the bartender refused to be roused from his drunken stupor, she found herself stewing over the fact that Alexander was planning to blow her off for the rest of their trip.
This wasn’t the first time, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last, and usually she didn’t care. They would lead separate lives, which suited her perfectly, but she also didn’t appreciate being ignored. The more he ignored her, the angrier she became.
They'd specifically come to this god-forsaken city for a few photo opportunities and to show off for the paparazzi, and yeah, he had some stupid political stuff to do, but now he wasn't going to see her at all? For five days? That was unacceptable.
She'd already put in several late night, drunken phone calls to her parents, who were also apparently hammered at some sort of cocktail party. After considerable pouting and empty threats of suicide (her trademark), her daddy had agreed to call Alexander's parents and make him, at the very least, show up at her fashion show the next day.
Once she'd cleared the mini-bar of all its liquor, and put a call in for more, she was starting to feel a little better.
Then, the bartender started to stir.
That was more like it.
----
I t was 4am in Dalvana . The private line in King Alexander and Queen Catriona’s bedroom was ringing off the hook. Alexander cursed at the ceiling and finally rolled over to pick it up. He hadn't even said “hello” when a drunken Leonard began screaming at him over the background noise of a party. Catriona rolled over, her sleep mask still obscuring her view of the room, but her ears still perfectly capable of hearing every word being shouted over the receiver.
Alexander lay back down and set the receiver on his stomach, letting Leonard yell into thin air. Cat pulled off her mask, sighed, and rolled over to her husband. “So what did our son do now?”
12
T he soft morning sun filled the bedroom with light, gently rousing Paris from a dreamless sleep. She stretched her arms out wide into the empty space around her, a deep yawn escaping her plump lips. As she reached out beside her, she realized all at once that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. A dingy little room hardly bigger than a broom closet at the hotel in the shady district of the city she had been staying at, this most definitely was not.
She blinked
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