Prince Un-Charming

Chapter 1
Caesar
“Did you really think I was going to let you get away that easily?”
Imelda slurs her words, pressing up against my body. She kisses my neck desperately, clinging to my blazer as if her life depends on it. Arousal flurries down between my legs as I thread my fingers through her blonde hair and return the kisses just as passionately.
No one will walk into this bathroom. At least, I hope not. We’ll be in big trouble if they do.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been with her. As the daughter of a distinguished diplomat, Imelda is expected to behave impeccably whenever she attends social events.
Considering this is a lavish gathering that I’m hosting with Alex as two princes of the royal family of Solvaria, we anticipated our guests would behave to the highest standard.
Not Imelda, though. If only the world knew just how dirty she gets whenever she gets a bit of alcohol in her system. She becomes insatiable.
And I, ever the gentleman, would never refuse a woman who desperately needs some release.
“I really shouldn’t,” I tease gently, saying one thing as I do the opposite, enjoying the way she grazes her teeth along my chin. “Alex won’t appreciate me abandoning him. Yet again.”
“Oh, whatever. Alex will be fine. He knows how to command the room on his own.” Then Imelda pulls away to look at me directly. “So do you.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nods, a coy smile lingering on her lips. Her lipstick is all but gone, with only a weak pink hue on her lips serving as a memory of a moment when she was more composed. “You attract everyone’s attention the second you walk into a room.”
“He’ll hate me for this.”
Clicking her tongue, Imelda shakes her head. One of her hands grazes down my neck, across my chest, and down between my legs. “He’s your family. It’s his royal duty to forgive you.”
Alcohol lingers on her words. I suck in a breath, allowing my eyes to close as she palms me through my pants. My head gently rests on the porcelain wall behind me, imagining my dick buried in her again.
There’s a reason I like spending time with her. She’s a good time. I don’t know if I can call her my favorite, but she knows how to leave her mark on a man.
Sometimes literally.
“Come on,” I say breathlessly, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Have some decorum.”
Imelda scoffs, but her hand still rests on my bulge. Relentless. “You’re one to talk.”
“This is an important event. I should be out there chatting people up.”
“You can do that afterward,” she replies nonchalantly, eyes half-lidded. “The night is still young. You’ve got lots of time to talk with those people.”
The friction on my dick makes it difficult to think clearly. My eyes close again, and I bite on my bottom lip, suppressing a moan as Imelda trails her mouth along my neck and nibbles on my ear.
We can be quick. So as long as no one finds us here, we’ll be fine. No one’s going to notice our absence.
Fuck it. My head isn’t working too well right now. The other one, however, is eager for some attention.
Imelda moans loudly as I crash my lips against hers again, grabbing her by the neck. Her fingers work effortlessly at the buttons of my dress uniform, but she falters as I guide her backward into the nearest cubicle. With my eyes open, I’m careful not to drive her into the wall with my movements.
Once inside the cubicle, I slam it shut behind me, but it doesn’t lock. That doesn’t matter. This won’t take long.
“Caesar,” Imelda whispers, gasping as my hand finds the spot between her legs that is sopping wet at this point. “Please.”
“I’ll give you what you want. You’ve been begging for it all night.”
“I’ve been wanting it since the last time I saw you.” She closes her eyes as my fingers tease her entrance. “Why don’t we do this more often?”
“This isn’t an ideal match,” I whisper, watching how her expressions change with each slight flick of my thumb. “And I know that you wouldn’t be loyal to me. I’ve heard the rumors about you and what’s-his-name.”
Imelda giggles. Then she clenches her jaw as her hand rests over mine. My fingers move more quickly this time around, prompting small gasps from her lips every now and then.
“They don’t mean anything.” Imelda swallows hard. “Why should I be loyal to you if you’re not willing to do the same?”
My eyes narrow at that. “Because I haven’t been promised to anyone yet.”
“Do you expect me to believe that the playboy act will stop the moment your father betroths you to some so-called noble lady?” Her tongue swipes along her bottom lip. Her back arches against the cubicle wall, while her fingernails claw into my skin. “I doubt it.”
“You don’t know what I’ll do.” My reputation precedes me. Not in a good way.
What no one knows about me is that for the right woman, I’m willing to change. Unfortunately, I haven’t found her yet. Most noble girls have a long line of men waiting to spend a night underneath their dress. The ones that don’t are already happily betrothed.
As I drop my gaze down lower, Imelda is tugging at her skirt. I help her by shoving it down her legs. She kicks it off quickly, but as she tries to get my shirt off, I stop her.
Imelda furrows her brows, moaning loudly as my finger teases her entrance. “Why don’t you take off your clothes?”
“We’re in a tight space. I don’t have time for all that.” Still, my hand trails down between my legs, fiddling with my zipper. “We have to make this quick.”
“Okay.”
Wrapping her hands around my neck, she pulls me in for another makeout session. This time, the sensations overwhelm me. The scent of her perfume, the sharp edges of her nails, the tiny noises she makes. Her breathing becomes quick and shallow. Her dilated pupils stare at me intensely.
“I need you now, Caesar,” she begs.
“It would be rude to keep a lady waiting.”
The bulge in my pants is becoming difficult to ignore. My eyes trail down to her breasts and how they’re straining against the fabric of her blouse with each breath.
Soon enough, my fingers are undoing each button until her bra is visible. “I don’t do this sort of thing with everyone,” she half-pants, half-moans.
“What makes me so special?”
“You’re…” Imelda’s breath hitches loudly as I sink my fingers into her. Afraid that she’s about to collapse on me, I press her against the wall and keep my knee between her open legs. “You’re you. You’re divine.”
I chuckle. “You’ve got a fine way with words.”
“And you’re such a tease that you turn slow deprivation into an art form.”
There’s something incredible about watching the way a woman squirms and moans underneath my hands before I give her what she wants.
If we had enough space, I would have gotten down on my knees and tasted her with my tongue.
I don’t stop until the woman I’m with is on the brink of madness. Only then do I satisfy her cravings. But Imelda brings a fire of her own. She chases what she wants until it’s hers.
She reaches out, bunching the fabric of my shirt within her fists as she grinds on me. She slips her tongue into my mouth effortlessly, and I allow her to dominate the make-out session for the moment. Moans slip out of her mouth as my hand trails down her back to her ass.
“Remember what I said, Imelda? We have to be quick. And quiet.”
She makes a small sound of defeat in response. Imelda has never been one to keep quiet in the bedroom or anywhere else, which can be a blessing and a curse.
“Get to it, then,” she replies brusquely, reaching down to find the zipper of my pants. She tugs on it so fiercely I worry she’s going to start literally ripping our clothes if I don’t heed her commands.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you tonight, Caesar.”
Those lovely words do wonders for my ego. They’re enough to make some of my hair stand on end.
“You did a good job of hiding it, Imelda. I had no idea you wanted this until you followed me into this bathroom.”
I tilt toward her, and she takes a sharp intake of breath.
“I couldn’t be too obvious about it.” Imelda bites her bottom lip. “My father’s here. He’d burst a blood vessel if he knew what we were doing right now.”
“Let’s make sure no one finds out, then.”
She giggles, making sure to press her chest firmly against mine. Reaching between her legs, she starts sliding the fabric of her panties to the side for an easier entrance.
Finally losing myself, I grab the underside of her thighs and hoist her further up the wall of this cubicle. She has no intention of keeping quiet. I’m so lost in the throes of pleasure that I don’t remotely care.