Page 63 of The King's Secret Bride

Well…I suppose I couldn’t have hidden it for much longer anyway.

Our wedding kiss was incredible—but the talk shows are going to need new material soon anyway.

“I’m already pregnant,” I admit, licking my lips and pulling him on top of me. “Your little stint in the ballroom, I think—oh!”

As fast as David is at getting me out of my clothes, when it comes to getting his cock out, he’s even faster. His cock presses against the warm wetness of my pussy, threatening to enter me any moment and letting me relive those gorgeous hours on his ballroom floor all over again.

“My Queen,” he growls, just like the beast he is.

“My King,” I purr back. “You won’t get me more pregnant by giving me an encore, you know.”

“Shame,” he teases, kissing the corners of my lips. “But now that my kingly duties have been fulfilled…I can focus on my husbandly duties instead.”

His cock presses into me, stiff and throbbing and already soaked with his precum and my honey—just an inch.

I fucking whimper.

Just an inch. My husband—and my King—is just that fucking good.

“What…ohhh. Fuck. What might those entail?”

Another inch. My fingernails press into the back of his neck while I clutch at the sheets with my free hand—silken, luxurious, and fit for a King, just as promised.

“Making you come, first off,” David says with a chuckle—obviously amused at how well my body is responding to even just a few of his ample inches. “Then…hmm. It depends on what my wife desires, I suppose.”

“Darling,” I say with a grin, stealing another inch of him with a rough buck of my hips. “You’ve given me your love…your child... your throne…what more could I ask for?”

“Nine more inches, for starters.”

David grins like the cocky, arrogant madman he is and thrusts inside me, hard and deep, hilting the royal man meat into my pussy and making me moan like a fucking whore.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

“Oh, I’ll get to that next,” David says with a laugh, pressing a conquering kiss against my lips. “Don’t you worry about that.”

He moves inside me, more gently than maybe he would have before—there is, after all, a baby on board, so to speak.

But when it comes to ruling over my body, my pleasure and most of all, my orgasms, David has always been—and always will be—every bit the King that his title declares him to be.

And as far as crowning achievements go…becoming Queen of his country might look nice on my resume, but my real pride is becoming Queen of his heart.

So, as all twelve inches of my husband’s cock go to work on my pussy, I can’t help thinking that this happily ever after is about to get a lot happier.

You know what they say…

Long live the King.