I take a fat strawberry out of the plastic container and open her up and place it inside of her.
“Oh!”
I start to eat her and the strawberry this way, using my teeth as she requested. I nibble on the strawberry that’s still inside of her and her body twists about, and I accidentally bite her, but I think she likes it.
“Vincent, I…I…” She sounds like she’s having some inward battle with herself. She sounds like she’s dying, honestly. And I get this fear that she’s allergic to strawberries. But she ate one already.
Vinny, don’t get distracted by all your little absurd thoughts.
I go back to town on her. There’s still some strawberry left inside of her, but it has gone further up inside, and I have to work to get it out.
“OHHHHH” she groans at the intensity of sensation tearing through her. Her poor little feet hammer the cobblestones, and I don’t want her to hurt herself. I place my hands on her ankles, holding her still.
She likes this too.
I find that tiny bit of strawberry inside of her, and I suck it out of her. She has another orgasm, and I hold her feet still as her body jiggles in the moonlight. She drags out my name again in this magnificent way.
“Oh, Vincent…”
I watch her lie there, enjoying the after effects of another orgasm. Or two. I’m not sure what just happened there.
I lie down next to her, but I let her have all of the picnic blanket. I look down at her body as she fixes her dress, and this big smile takes over her face.
“Oh, Vincent.” She smiles, and I hand her a glass of wine.
“Do you like your palace gardens now?” I ask with a smirk, and she laughs onto my chest.
“I do like them much more now,” Isadora’s voice is soft and playful.
Chapter Six
Nathan
I spent the evening reading while Vincent was in the gardens with Isadora.
Let him have his fun with her. I was going to interrupt, but Queen Illeana decided she wanted to sit in the royal library with me. She said nothing the entire time, but I knew better than to simply leave. The queen was obviously up to something and I wasn’t going to interrupt her plan before I had enough of my own cards to play.
I finally can’t wait anymore and I have a plan of my own for Isadora. It isn’t some picnic in the gardens.
The gold and red décor of the palace drawing room are the same color as those stupid flowers Vincent is obsessed with in the garden. He thinks liking flowers is some easy way to get Isadora’s affections. What a tired, cliche choice.
But the palace drawing room offers a great place to have sex. It’s been on my mind all morning. I’ll take her and show her what sex can really be like. She’s been in Vincent’s nervous hands, listening to his random thoughts. Poor girl. This woman needs some good, hard amazing sex, not a million lame words in her ears from a simpleton like Vincent, all muscle and masculinity without an appreciation for much of the finer complexities of being a ruler. He’s definitely not entirely stupid, however, because he knew better to avoid war and marry a beautiful princess instead.
The room is very spacious, and there are props I can place her on and shag her really good, like the little vanity seat or the fireplace. Or wherever. He took her out to a garden, but I would never make her shag on dirt. I mean, she’s a princess. I practically roll my eyes at the thought.
I bet Vincent talked about all kinds of things out there, too. He probably bored her when it came to all the flowers. And the entire time I bet the girl just wanted to have sex. She just wanted someone to take her and remind her what the human body is for—to feel amazing pleasure.
There are two huge chandeliers dangling over the lush red carpet. This will do. The carpet is thick and luscious. This room is so nice and it has a pleasant view, but I’m not interested in looking out of a window right now. I just want to look at her. And I’d look at myself too, but there isn’t a single mirror in the whole drawing room.
But I’m handsome, and I know this. Everyone does. I have that stud movie star look thing going on. Vincent is more of a stuck-up twat. I’m not going to give Vincent another thought.
I think this, but I know I will at some point because he’s my competition, the thorn in my side.
“Here,” I say, and pull her by the wrist rather impatiently so she’s sitting next to me. She eyes me and looks down at the flask of whiskey I’ve brought with us. I clear my throat and take the flask. It’s solid gold and what’s inside it is even better.