Mature Content ahead.

❥SARAH ❥

Two years?!

"Are you serious?" I couldn't believe it. How could someone keep the fact that their own son had been missing for two whole years hidden from the world?

Christopher nodded solemnly. "Why would I lie about something like that?" He shifted in his chair, then stood up and moved to the ground. "No one outside of the royal family knows about it," he paused, taking another swig of whiskey before continuing, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Alex will kill me."

"I won't tell her," I assured him, walking closer. "It'll be our little secret." He said nothing, just continued to stare at me intently.

So I pressed on, "I mean, if she found out, she'd know that I was in your room, and we wouldn't want her knowing that we've become drinking buddies, would we?"

He chuckled, stretching out his right leg and propping the other one up, using it as an armrest. "So we're drinking buddies now, huh?" He teased me.

I rolled my eyes and kicked off my heels. "Shut up, you know what I mean."

"I do," he replied.

"Do you still want to talk about it? Your brother disappearing and all?" I moved closer, lowering myself to the ground and leaning against the back of his bed, putting a little distance between us.

"I would, but you need to prepare yourself for tomorrow," he said.

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"Alex really should be the one filling you in, but..." He stretched his body, causing his shirt to strain against his remaining button, as if it were on the verge of bursting. "When my dad mentioned your presence called for a small celebration, he meant announcing to the press about you."

"Oh? It's that serious?" I hadn't anticipated it being such a big deal, but then again, it involved Christopher finding a wife to become the next queen.

But this could be a major problem if the king, queen, or, worse, the press were to find out that I was a fraud. A fake person pretending to be someone else out of sheer desperation for money.

Damn, that made me sound like a gold digger.

"Hey," I looked up, realizing that I had zoned out and allowed negative thoughts to consume me. He seemed to have moved even closer, his green eyes fixated on me with a sense of concern.

"Don't fall for his act, Sarah," I told myself, trying to regain my focus and ensure that my head was still clear, not clouded by alcohol.

"I'm fine," I mustered a brief smile and averted my gaze, taking a sip from the tequila bottle. "Next time, maybe steal a glass, too."

"Yes, Mother," he quipped, causing my eyes to widen.

"You're insane," I laughed, playfully hitting his shoulder, but I stopped when I felt how solid it was. "Whoa, you must work out a lot," I didn't realize when I squeezed his shoulder, letting my hand travel downward to his chest.

I could sense his breathing growing heavier, unsure if it was the effect of the alcohol or the charged silence that permeated the room. My mind snapped back to reality the moment I placed my hand on his chest and heard a suppressed groan escape him, pulling me back from the brink of my imagination.

What the hell am I doing?

"I..." I began, parting my lips, ready to apologize and make a swift exit.

But it didn't happen.

I gasped in shock as Christopher grabbed the hand I had intended to pull away from his body. Our faces were inches apart, and one wrong move could lead to a world of trouble, but I found myself caring less and less about the consequences.

Suddenly, he released my hand, his thumb brushing against my lips. "Fuck, these lips," he cursed, igniting a fire within me that made my core tighten, desperately trying to hold onto the remnants of my dignity.

'Back down Sarah, Back the fuck do—'

"I want to fuck these lips with my cock Sarah,"

Oh fuck.

My mind went blank as soon as he uttered those words. My breaths became shallow and quick, my body involuntarily leaning closer to his chest, wanting him to feel how erect my nipples were.

His hand glided down to my throat, softly caressing it, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through me.

Summoning the last ounce of courage, I managed to speak up. "We can't..." I gasped, feeling his lips on my neck, kissing and teasing me with a slow yet urgent rhythm. My grip on the bottle tightened, my knuckles turning white.

"Christopher," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "The contract..."

"Fuck the contract," he simply stated, his other hand sliding under my gown. "You're so damn soft," he groaned, pulling back slightly. I thought the moment was over, but I was mistaken. His lips descended upon my right nipple, igniting a surge of pleasure that caused me to moan loudly.

"Urgh!" I couldn't help but let the sound escape, but I immediately bit down on my lip, desperate to silence myself.

He tantalized it as if he were famished and it was my very breath he sought to consume. The air became stifling, suffocating, and for a fleeting moment, I welcomed the lack of oxygen.

A whimper escaped my lips as his thumb glided beneath the fabric of my underwear, teasing my sensitive clit. "Fuck, Christopher," I moaned, unable to contain my desire.

"You have no idea how much it arouses me when you say my name like that," he whispered in my ear, his tongue tracing a path beneath it. "I yearn to taste your lips," he confessed.

"Then do it," I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through my body, my words flowing freely as long as his touch continued.

He shook his head, his fingers still toying with my breast. "Earlier, at the dinner table, it was all an act," he confessed, his touch sending waves of need crashing through me. "But now," he licked his lips, leaning closer to mine, and suddenly my own lips felt parched.

"Now..." I trailed off, my voice barely a whisper.

"Now, it will be real, fucking real," he declared, his voice thick with promise. "I'll give you all the damn kisses no sane man would dare to."

"Good thing I love them crazy," I replied, fully aware that half of what I said would likely be forgotten later, and if it resurfaced, I would simply pretend, clinging to the hope that everything would return to normal.

"Good, because you drive me insane," he blurted out, and in the blink of an eye, his lips crashed against mine. A moan escaped me as I placed my hands on his shoulders, only for him to swiftly change our positions.

Now, I straddled him, feeling the unmistakable hardness of him pressing against my core, fueling my desire further. His tongue clashed with mine as he devoured my lips, denying me even a moment to catch my breath.

A faint tearing sound reached my ears, and I realized with a jolt that it was my underwear he had torn apart. 'Fuck, he's wild,' I thought, a thrill coursing through me.

I love it.

Whiskey and tequila mingled on our tongues as our kisses grew more fervent, intensifying the intoxicating atmosphere. He withdrew his hand from beneath my skirt, and I whimpered in protest, even as he briefly broke the kiss to speak.

"Take it easy, love," he breathed, granting me a strong yet fleeting kiss. "This is only the beginning," mischief glimmered in his dark eyes, heightening my curiosity to an almost unbearable level.

"Ah! Fuck!" I winced in silence, a sharp intake of breath escaping me as his hand slipped beneath my gown, teasing my clit.

"Do you love that?" he asked, but my mind was in disarray, unable to form a coherent response. He lowered the top of my dress, causing my breast to spring free instantly. "Fuck!" he growled, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

But it wasn't enough. I craved more.

"Suck them," I shamelessly demanded, heedless of how vulgar it sounded. "Please, Christopher," I pleaded, my eyes filled with impatience.

He chuckled darkly. "As my lady commands."

His lips engulfed my nipple with a possessiveness that bordered on pain, yet the overpowering lust obscured any discomfort. He didn't relent, even as his fingers delved into me with an aggressive fervor, threatening to unleash a scream from deep within. I bit down on my lip, desperately suppressing the urge, fighting to hold onto my sanity.

"Fuck, your pussy is hungry to devour my fingers," he growled, adding another digit to the mix. I nearly whimpered, realizing that it had been far too long since I felt a man's touch inside me.

I had always preferred the act of sex over this kind of orgasm, but this man was making me question my preferences.

This sensation was more intense than sex.

My hands moved without restraint, cupping his face as I kissed him with the same fervent desire he displayed for me. Our tongues engaged in a passionate dance, further driving me to the brink of madness.

My body trembled as it built up, preparing to release its fluids.

"Chris, I'm..."

"I know, my love," he intensified his movements, stroking my clit while pinching my nipple simultaneously. He tugged my hair back forcefully, igniting a fiery sensation. His eyes held mine, ensuring that I focused solely on him as I reached the pinnacle of pleasure.

My body convulsed, and with one final thrust, he abruptly withdrew his hand, thrusting three fingers into me with a force that made me scream and climax without a second thought.

My breaths grew heavy as I felt his hands retreat from my hypersensitive flesh. Suddenly, my mind cleared, causing me to collapse onto the ground, panic coursing through me.

What have I done?

"What's wrong?" Concern etched across his face as he reached out to touch my arm, but I recoiled swiftly.

"My prince," a man's voice resonated through the door, causing me to immediately rise to my feet. I stumbled slightly, on the verge of falling, but strong hands caught me, once again ensnaring me in Christopher's embrace.

"My prince, is everything alright?" the voice inquired once more, prompting me to push Christopher away. With haste, I bent down, retrieved my heels, and dashed towards the door.

I heard Christopher call my name, but I dared not look back. I swung the door open, startling the bodyguard I had noticed earlier. He appeared taken aback, visually scanning my disheveled state—I bore hickeys on my neck, my lips were swollen and stained a bloody red, and my clothes... I couldn't even begin to fathom how disarrayed I must have appeared.

"Sarah," I turned one last time, gazing upon Christopher's face. His clothing was torn, his hair disheveled, and even in this chaotic moment, I found him undeniably irresistible.

I turned my attention back to the bodyguard, pushing him aside, and stepped barefoot outside his room. The guards' gazes fixated upon me, but I paid them no mind. In this fully sober state, I couldn't be bothered by the potential embarrassment.

I barged into my own room with force, slamming the door shut. I couldn't believe I had truly succumbed to Christopher's advances!

I had believed I could maintain control, especially since I had engaged in sexual activity prior to arriving at this place.

I hurried to my bed, the onset of a pounding headache throbbing in my temples. As I lay down, hoping against hope that it had all been a dream or some twisted figment of my imagination, I felt the chill of liquid on my skin and the absence of my underwear.

"I've completely fucked this up," I muttered, my voice laden with regret.