Update - so I relented and decided to make this into a multi-chap story. I'm quite glad I did now - these two are so much fun to play with!
For anyone who has read my other fic, you will no doubt remember the missing lemons. Well, it didn't seem like a big deal for that story, for me at least. But now I have another plot cooking in my head and I can't help but think that story might just be in need of a few fruity scenes.
So, the point I'm trying to make is, (yeah I do tend to waffle on), I wanted to write one or two fun one shot stories; something to give me a chance to try my hand at the sexy stuff. This one is my first mild attempt.
I came up with the idea for this kind of story back in April. Like a true proud Brit, I sat and watched the Royal Wedding, oohed and ahhed at the dress and the service, blah, blah, blah.
But the most fascinating part for me, was trying to imagine what the party would be like afterwards, wondering if the Queen would get off her face on a glass or two of sherry, wondering if Prince William could let his hair down (okay so there's not so much of that left anymore but I'm wandering off point again,) and hoping that Prince Harry was the fun loving, man whore I love to think he is.
So, I thought I would have a little fun with our favourite characters (some of them anyway) and here it is ...
Oh yeah - disclaimer - I don't own Twilight or its characters. And thanks to Pretty Flour for pre-reading/beta-ing.
Chapter 1 - A night with the Royal Staff
Privileged. Yes, apparently, I was privileged. Lucky and fortunate to be born into this family. Lucky and fortunate to live as I did. Lucky, and oh so fortunate to have my entire future mapped out from the very second I was conceived twenty six years ago.
I wasn't ungrateful, and I'm not a selfish bastard who only thinks about himself above all else, but sometimes, I wished I had the opportunity to be just that. I knew I was lucky to have a wonderful family who loved me and wanted the best for me, in whatever shape or form it presented itself. It was just unfortunate, that those family members, who wanted what was best for me, were not the people who I called Mother, Father, Grandmother etc, etc... Those family members who loved me were not the ones who refused to see how suffocating this life was.
I was hurtling towards a future that I didn't want a single part of. The shit that had surrounded me for as long as I could remember, was enveloping me so tightly that I almost couldn't see straight.
Growing up under the constant scrutiny had been unimaginably difficult. I was never allowed to behave like your average young boy, I didn't have "friends" who I could play football or computer games with. I envied those boys who took for granted the very thing that was the essence of childhood.
The first taste of freedom I experienced came thanks to my enrolment in boarding school. I almost forgot who I was and for the months I was away from home, I wasn't treated like a higher being. I was just Edward. To say that was a nice change would have been the understatement of the century.
I was desperate to indulge in as many "normal" experiences as I could do. I dabbled here and there with drugs. Nothing hardcore, just the occasional joint of weed, or hit of LSD or speed at one of the epic Friday night parties. I enjoyed the company of girl after girl, not caring for the repercussions for my actions. I knew nothing would come out, even if a student tried to sell any of the countless stories available, because Grand-Bitch would have it buried quicker than a squirrel hiding its nuts.
I hated the tight leash that was forever holding me back, and strained against it at every opportunity. My father had tried to pull me from school on more than one occasion, but again Grand-Bitch intervened. She warned that removing me from school would only raise more questions, so I was allowed to stay. That was the one and only time I had ever felt thankful towards the woman who could give the White Witch from Narnia a run for her money in the frostiest demeanour category.
I think my parents assumed once I was out of school I would calm down somewhat. But that never happened. After I completed my A Levels at Eton, I moved onto University. There I continued to live as I wanted to and it only fuelled my desire for a normal life.
My behaviour escalated, and I ended up in hospital with a broken leg and several broken ribs, after a pretty terrifying experience with one of the aforementioned drugs. I had been tripping so badly, I was convinced I was being pursued by murderous rabbits and had fallen down a flight of stairs.
Although my accident couldn't be kept hidden, the reason behind it certainly was. It was blamed on a little too much alcohol, and swept under the rug where possible. I let my focus on school slip and I barely managed to scrape through my degree. I didn't care. What did I need it for anyway? University was just another way for me to lead my own life. A degree in Art History wouldn't make one bit of difference to the life I would soon have to embrace.
Sensing that I was becoming a loose cannon, senior advisors to our family suggested that I spend some time with my Aunt Esme and Uncle Carlisle. I was thrilled, I had always been close to my cousins Emmett and Alice and the idea of being able to live it up with them for a while seemed perfect.
Esme and my mother Elizabeth were sisters. Yet it was always Esme who I looked to as a mother figure. She had showered me with affection throughout my life and in all honesty, I loved her more than the woman I had to call mother.
It was just the same with Carlisle, whilst I was experimenting with women and illicit substances, he had offered me advice. Never telling me what I should and shouldn't do. He knew I was going to do it regardless, so he simply warned me of side-effects to the drugs and helped me when I decided enough was enough. He also gave me the father-son sex talk and provided me, albeit rather embarrassingly, with what seemed like an endless supply of condoms.
Unlike my parents, Esme and Carlisle were together because of love. Each worshipped the ground the other walked upon and it was touching to see.
My mother and father on the other hand, had been "encouraged" together by Grand-Bitch, and who could ever refuse her? So, twenty nine years later, they were still married. They were as happy as could be expected considering neither had actually wanted to marry the other. Over the years, they had developed a relationship which was respectful but not loving. Not once had I ever seen an intimate gesture or look of affection exchanged between them.
I knew that was what I had to look forward to, and that scared me more than anything else. Not being able to choose a girl I wanted to marry. Not that there had ever been anyone who I had even looked at in that way, but still, knowing that choice would be out of my hands was like a good old kick to the nuts.
I spent three years with Esme and Carlisle and my cousins. They were the best three of my life. Carlisle was a doctor, he ran his own private practice close to their home in Hertfordshire and I was often invited along to help out on a voluntary basis. I was always referred to as a "student" and by some miracle, not one person ever recognized me. Probably because, the majority of Carlisle's patients were elderly women who could barely see beyond their own nose.
During my time with Esme and Carlisle, I still had to make an appearance at several family events. Usually they were charitable functions. Each mind-numbingly dull, and were it not for the constant supply of alcohol, I doubted I would have managed to get through a single one.
I still needed security, I was far too important to ever risk being abducted, assassinated or anything else. (Although, occasionally those situations sounded more appealing than returning home.) So the head of my security detail, Peter, was forever at my side. He had worked for the "family" for years and I had the up-most respect for him. He was in the latter stages of his chosen profession, so it seemed more appropriate for him to work with the one person who shied away from as many public engagements as possible.
Although we never talked about it, I got the distinct impression he knew just how much I resented my life and not once did he ever judge my behaviour or attitude. For that reason, he had worked his way into the tight knit circle of people that I surrounded myself with.
I had also drafted in Emmett to act as my number two. Whenever, Peter was off the clock, Emmett would take over. I was delighted with this arrangement, it felt more like socialising with my best friend and I added him as a permanent member of my team when I finally had to say goodbye to this chapter in my life.
Trust was an issue for me. Besides, my adopted family, I could count on one hand the number of people I put any faith in. There was my brother James of course. Then e had Peter, Sam - my driver when I was back in London—and Tanya.
Tanya was the only non-family woman who I actually cared about. Not in an "I want to marry you" way, but simply as a friend. She was someone who knew me through and through. I had confided in her time and time again and she never once betrayed that trust. We spoke every day and when I was back home she was a constant visitor to my apartment.
Basically, Tanya was my professional wife; she organised my security, my diary and anything else that I needed. She did all she could to accommodate my difficult ways, but wouldn't hesitate to point out if I crossed the line as far as my behaviour was concerned.
I was back in one of the guest suites at the home of my grandparents, surrounded by people who were paid to brown-nose me all day every day and I was slowly going insane. Tonight I was attending a 'special' event.
Grand-Bitch and Grandfather were celebrating sixty years of marriage. I had to wonder how he had done it. I wouldn't have lasted sixty seconds with her. I would probably been the first person in my family to be imprisoned for murder.
The party was being held here. In one of their homes and anyone who was anyone had been invited. They didn't have "friends" who would be coming to celebrate—to be fair, the majority of their friends had snuffed it years ago while Grand-Bitch appeared to be fast approaching immortality. Those present tonight were just acquaintances, all of whom were all too eager to join the queue for brown nosing.
It would be dismal, the majority of those in attendance who weren't polishing their noses on my Grand-Bitch's backside, would be sitting like they had a hot poker stuffed up their arse instead.
I looked at the three piece suit that had been picked out by my dresser. Yeah, you heard it right. I was twenty six years old and still needed my clothes choosing like an infant. Black, boring and bland. It just about summed up my life.
I looked up to see a head of blond hair poke through the door.
"Wow, Edwardo, who died?" My brother, James, smirked before striding into my room.
"Me," I deadpanned. "Are you seriously not dreading this bloody party?" I raised an eyebrow at him in disgust.
He laughed, so freely that it stung a little. "Nah, I have a good friend downstairs."
"Dom," He saw my frustrated expression and failed to realised I wasn't in the mood for games, "Pérignon—surely you two have met before?"
I shook my head at him and tried not to smile at his lame joke. God, what I wouldn't have given to switch shoes with my brother. There was only eighteen months between us and I suppose we had been each other's only friends as we grew up.
Eighteen months. It was nothing right? Yet his life and my life were completely different. He was more or less free to do as he chose. Yes he had to maintain a certain respectability, but his map of life had plenty of alternative routes which he could choose at any time.
Wow Edward, miserable much?
"You had better get your suit on, Ed. Dad wants us in the ballroom in ten minutes," James warned and then stepped back outside.
I dressed robotically, taking one quick glance in the mirror I grinned. My hair was in its usual chaotic style and I did nothing to calm it down. This was one area of my life which I fully controlled and I knew it drove Grand-Bitch mad. I may even have ruffled it up some more before I left the room, not that I did that on purpose of course. We wouldn't want to antagonise the old witch and give her an embolism or anything, would we?
James was waiting outside, leaning against the wall, his usual smirk plastered on his face. Neither of us was particularly well behaved. Despite the upbringing we had received, we had both spent far too much time in the company of Emmett Cullen and we had grown accustomed to some of his more "fun" ways.
The only up side to being in this house was the security it offered. Basically, it was a fortress and once inside, I needed no escort, no shadow on my tail every time I turned around. Emmett would be in the main room, pretending to work of course. In reality he would just be taking advantage of the free champagne and the pretty women who would be working as servers.
James and I walked slowly to the ballroom, he was moaning about the uncontrollable horn he was experiencing, and I had to agree with him. I hadn't had the company of any woman since I had ended a brief relationship with the one I was being encouraged to choose as my wife.
After I had first returned to life in London, I had been introduced (for the eighth time I might add), to Katharine Charles-Tanner, or Kate, to those who knew her best. She was an attractive woman with long blond hair, blue eyes and legs that never seemed to end.
Kate, was the daughter of Lord Alistair Charles-Tanner and his wife Irina. A pair of high-climbing aristocrats, who would have loved nothing more than to see their darling daughter as my wife. They had spent hundreds of thousands of pounds grooming Kate, ensuring she had attended the best schools, universities and social events. They invested heavily in the charities which Grand- Bitch was involved in and their efforts worked. We were forced together in the hope I would finally grow up and act like someone in my position should.
I allowed things to continue for six months or so and Kate seemed more than happy with our casual arrangement. But I grew tired of the charade and ended the relationship, which caused one of two blistering arguments between my father and I.
As we approached the ballroom I heard James mutter sarcastically, "Dad looks cheerful."
Outside the doors to the room, stood my parents. My father was pacing up and down anxiously, angrily, impatiently... As soon as he saw us he stopped and shook his head.
"You're late," he barked and then gestured to the room. "Everyone is waiting, now let's go."
We were shown through the huge doors and into the packed room. Everyone was standing and acknowledged our presence as we made our way to the table. It was pathetic, my entire family and everything it stood for was old, outdated and boring.
I sat down first, instead of waiting for my parents to take their places, as I should have done. That earned me a glare from Daddy dearest but I ignored him and waved my glass in the air to the server I knew would be homing in on my position straight away.
"Your Highness," I heard a woman whisper but I didn't look up as she filled my glass.
Inwardly I was cringing. I hated being addressed as that, but I wasn't just Edward. I was Prince fucking Edward amongst many other titles, all of which made my skin crawl.
My father was HRH Prince Edward, my Grand-Bitch just happened to be Queen Elizabeth and I was third in line to the throne. One day I would be King of England.
See I told you my life was fucked up!
"Come on, Bells. Pleeeeaaaaasssse come with us? It's gonna be so much fun. We can sight see and shop during the day and party at night. Just think of all the people we'll get to meet in London. Just one year, that's all we're talking, and then you can come back to fantastic Forks," Jessica whined like no one else I had ever met.
After my other two best friends had failed to convince me to take a gap year and swan off to England (like what I did there!), they had revealed their secret weapon—Jessica friggin' Stanley.
She had big curly hair, was as tiny as a doll, and had the absolute power to persuade anyone to do anything she wanted. Mainly because that whine in her voice drove you insane enough to agree to anything, just to shut her up.
Goddamn friends. But I loved my three girls and the idea of spending a year escaping reality didn't seem too bad; so I agreed to go with them.
I refused to have anything to do with the planning. I wanted to enjoy the trip and obsessing over every little detail would only stress me out to fuck, so I stuck my head in the sand and let Rose, Angela and Jessica arrange everything.
That had been my first mistake.
I had "borrowed" my savings to pay for the flight, but I was too excited at the prospect of living without a care in the world to even consider how we were going to fund this year long trip of sightseeing, shopping and partying in England's capital.
Funny, but movies and books which portray the typical backpacking experience, always seem to forget trivial little things. Such as the cost of living in this motherfucking city for a start.
Rent? Don't even get me started on that. Price of food? Yeah, you'd better not go there either, and as for the price of beer. Well, I now fully understood the obsession that some students had with collecting empty beer bottles. The fucking things cost far too much to throw in the trash.
So anyway, bitching aside. We have been in lovely London for eighteen weeks and three days now. Eighteen weeks and three days since I left my home in the ever constant cloudy and rainy shit hole of Forks. I had left my estranged mother and father at the airport, embroiled in another argument about my upbringing.
My father, Charlie, the upstanding Chief of Police of aforementioned shit hole, was thoroughly disappointed in my decision to board the big bird in the sky and head to pastures new. Apparently, I didn't appreciate what tough economical times we are currently experiencing, and I needed to start planning for tomorrow.
"You know money doesn't grow on trees, Bells. If you don't find a job now, how will you manage to support yourself in the future?"
Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that little story Dad. Bottle it, patent it and boom, instant cure for insomnia. No more financial problems—ever. Fuck I'm smart.
So where were we? Oh yeah, Dad was pissed. My mother on the other hand was fucking ecstatic. After years of her constantly worrying I was going to turn into a square like my father, she was suddenly picturing me with a daisy chain around my head, driving an old Volkswagen camper van, decked out in psychedelic colours and a love seat, whilst waiting for Woodstock to come around again.
I honestly think that if I'd spent the latter part of my childhood with her, I would be preparing to change my name to Moonbeam Lotsalove, walking around with a joint behind my ear and my fingers permanently set in the peace sign. If you hadn't already guessed, my mother was a borderline hippy.
Okay, so we left our respective parents at the airport, crying and telling us to be safe, responsible, yada, yada, yada. We listened dutifully of course, and then as soon as were out of site, we began singing Break Out by Swing out Sister.
We accustomed ourselves to British beers in the terminal, and then on the connecting flight to New York, then in the terminal at Newark airport and then on the last leg to Heathrow.
We irritated the living shit out of the elderly couple sat behind us and they were complaining constantly about us to the stewardess. But thanks to Rosalie's very complimentary rack and sexy "titsling", the ageing man assured us that having fun was breast... uh, I mean best. Yeah he was a dirty old pervert, but, his roving eye meant we could scream Rose was being sexually objectified, and thankfully manage to avoid an early meeting with the law after we landed.
As soon as we had retrieved our luggage we stepped outside into the lovely English weather.
"Rain? Goddamn fucking rain? We left Forks because we were fed up of getting wet, and now we arrive here and guess what? Yeah, Rose, we're getting wet," Jessica growled. "My hair is twice the fucking size it was when we left the plane."
But, we wanted to embrace London and all its wonderfulness. So we held our heads high and got piss wet through. Our first experience with wonderfulness? Being scammed by a cabbie who drove us the longest fucking way possible to our hostel, and then charged us an obscene amount of money for the honour.
"Ere we are, Darlins." He winked as he pulled up outside a dilapidated house in a pretty iffy street.
He took the money and sped off to scam his next unsuspecting victim—bastard.
"No fucking way. Look at that place, Rose, we can't stay there," I whispered and she nodded, never taking her eyes from the weird brown stain in the middle of the front door.
Not wanting to enter the house, we had lingered on the street. Our bright pink and flowery luggage soon drew us some unwanted attention. So we were faced with the choice, stay out here in the street and face the pretty scary mother fuckers who were now advancing on our position, or brave the house from hell.
Sufficed to say, we chose life.
To be fair, the hostel we were staying in wasn't a front for some human trafficking or masochistic establishment, which sold their guests for your run of the mill, torturing, dismembering experience.
We didn't stay there for long, it had just been a short term solution for when we first arrived and we managed to find an apartment to rent after a few days. Thanks to our parents, we had enough money to cover the rent for six months.
Or so we thought.
In Forks, two thousand dollars a month would have secured you a God damn palace, but not so much in London. Instead of a penthouse on Mayfair with panoramic views of the wonderful city; we were holed up in a two bedroom flat, another shit-fucking-hole. It was located in the most "un-London" street in the city and it was a good thirty minute ride on the underground to get anywhere worth seeing.
The second time we were scammed in the city, had been when he had to pay a security deposit of another two thousand dollars for renting the place. Two thousand dollars on somewhere that wouldn't even sell for that much.
The curtains were brown, holey and smelled stale and damp. The brown carpets were worn right through in some places—the parts that weren't rather made you wish they were, and the walls were brown and patchy. Yes, our landlord appeared to like brown. Not wonderful chocolaty browns, but instead, he had gone for the less appealing, dog turd brown.
At least we had good neighbours though right? Wrong. We were sandwiched between two other apartments. Above us were a married couple who appeared to despise one another; judging by the torrent of "fucking dickhead", "she-bitch from hell", "fucking ignorant bastard" and "fat, lazy whore" that filtered downstairs.
Drifting upstairs, courtesy of Jake and Seth in the flat below, was the constant aroma of weed. These guys smoked, baked, grew and lived for all things pot related. To give you a good visual; Google Towlie from South Park and you're good to go. They were really good guys; but given the fact they had smoked half of their brain cells away, they weren't really the best conversationalists.
I had been lured here with the promise that our days would be spent sightseeing, visiting Tower Bridge, Westminster Abbey and of course the Mecca for us girls—Harrods. Yeah we were wrong about that too. In order to cover the rent, food, travel and alcohol, we all needed to work our asses off.
Angela stuck close to home and took a job in McDonald's, and whenever we were a little short on cash, we could take advantage of lots of sneaky free lunches. Pretty, slender, statuesque Rosalie landed a job as a "promoter". Basically, she had to draw in crowds to various stores, clubs and exhibitions. Easy for her; with one flick of her beautiful blond hair or a batter of those perfectly groomed eyes, and anyone would be putty in her hands. Much to our amusement though, no one ever saw her attributes, thanks to the endless supply of ridiculous costumes she had to wear. So far, she had been Minnie Mouse, Barney, Bob the Builder and even Bigfoot.
Much to her dismay, and our intense amusement, we ensured each and every outfit was captured on film, something to embarrass her with at future birthday celebrations.
Jessica and I worked together. We waited tables at a pretty damn nice restaurant in the heart of Soho. It was called Volturi's and run by the most fabulous couple I had ever met.
Aro and Marcus were Italian born and raised. They had moved here about twenty years earlier to start a new life. They opened Volturi's and at first, they concentrated all of their efforts into making that a success. It quickly became one of the most sought after restaurants in London, and using the profits, they had begun a second venture. Caius Catering Services, catered for the most jaw-dropping functions, in the most spectacular places.
All trusted employee's at Volturi's who were off-duty, were given first refusal to cover the functions, and no one EVER turned those down. In the short time I had worked there, I had met some of the most famous people on the planet; Sir Elton John, Posh Spice and Becks, (Newsflash: Posh Spice actually ate a bean sprout—I bore witness to it!), RPatz and KStew (totally a couple—friends don't have their hands in the places these two did), Justin Timberlake and Paris Hilton, (okay, I know I'm scraping the barrel with that last one).
Tonight, Jessica and I were pulling another shift of overtime, but tonight was going to be the most exciting, nerve-wracking and incredible job of the lot. For this job, we had to prove our work visas and passports were legal and current. We had to have background checks to prove we weren't homicidal maniacs, and then we had to undergo a full two hours of additional training. We were told how to correctly address those VIPs who would be in attendance, and we had to rehearse curtsying over and over again.
We were each appointed one table to work and had to learn the names of the guests at that particular table. Why all the effort?
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention this part was being held at Buckingham fucking Palace!
Better watch your potty mouth, Bella.
"How long until my departure would be deemed acceptable?" I leaned over and hissed in Tanya's ear.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't even think about it, Edward. Trust me, as soon as the formalities are over, your parents and grand-parents will leave. Then you can have some fun right?" She cast a look in James' direction, who was shamelessly flirting with a girl on the next table. "Can't you be more like your brother?"
"I'll leave the socialising to him. I'm really not in the mood tonight, Tanya." I threw back another glass of champagne, ignoring the disapproving look my father was giving me.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Please be upstanding for HRH Queen Elizabeth and HRH Prince Anthony." The entire room stood quickly and I groaned before rising to my feet. My grandparents walked through the room as quickly and gracefully as any arthritic eighty year olds could do.
Finally, after the seemingly endless round of applause had died down. Battle-axe Liz addressed the room and gave thanks to the guests for the years of support, and claimed it was an honour to have so many friends here to share this special night with them.
I stopped listening and lazily scanned the room. Every single person appeared mesmerised by my Grand-bitch's presence and it was sickening, but one person caught my eye. As the speech was flowing, one of the servers was paying no attention. She appeared to be doing the same as I was, looking around at the sickening scene, seemingly so unimpressed by the whole thing, and I swear she actually shook her head. A look of disbelief on her absolutely beautiful face.
When the speech was over, I sat back down immediately, again not waiting for the applause to die down. My eyes wandered back to the girl, she was now gathering trays of hors d'oeuvres to serve to the guests.
I had been spot on with my first thought. Beautiful. Her long brown hair was tied back into a ponytail. She had a tiny frame, and her slender waist was only emphasized by the uniform she wore. A white blouse and fitted black waistcoat on top, with a knee length black skirt and flat black shoes. Definitely not the most stylish, but it was insignificant, because the more I looked at her, the more I couldn't tear my eyes away. I watched her in the hope she would be assigned to our table. But, she wasn't. I scowled as she walked towards another section of the room.
When I looked back at Tanya, she was smirking. "All the single women in the room, who will no doubt be lusting after you or your brother, and you, Edward, appear to be fascinated with a waitress."
I ignored her and picked at the appetisers we were being served. My father could always be relied upon to bring up one subject, irrespective of where we were. Tonight was no exception.
"So, Edward, when can we expect you to commit full time to your responsibilities?" He looked expectantly at me. "You can't hide away in your apartment forever. You have a duty to uphold."
"Please can we let tonight pass without discussing this." I ran my hands through my hair and pulled at the strands in frustration. "This is supposed to be a celebration."
"It appears, events such as these are the only times I ever see you, Edward. This issue needs addressing sooner or later." He dismissed the conversation with a flick of his hand and turned his attention to someone else at the table.
"Please, Darling. Try to consider how important this is to your family." Now it was my mother's turn to fight my father's battles. "Your absence only places so much more pressure on your brother's shoulders."
"No, Mother. Leave me out of this please. You know I have no issues with taking on Ed's responsibilities." He shot me a reassuring smile and then a wink. "Besides, I find it's a great way to prey on unsuspecting women."
I laughed and my mother sighed in disapproval, but his remark killed the conversation and she changed the subject.
I tuned her out and unable to resist, I looked around the room shifting in my chair purposely to see behind me. The girl was serving at one of the outer tables, she was smiling as she served, but I could tell from here, that her expression was forced.
If anyone saw my position, it would be pretty obvious that I was blatantly staring at her. But it didn't bother me in the slightest, and I continued to watch her for several minutes.
"For goodness sake," I heard Tanya mutter under her breath, before she excused herself from the table.
I saw her approach a very flamboyant looking man, in a very questionable aubergine coloured suit. As soon as he noticed her, he broke out into a huge smile and embraced her like an old friend. I could see a smile planted on her face as she spoke and the man's eyes flickered in my direction. He nodded enthusiastically and then almost danced away.
"You're welcome." Tanya laughed as she rejoined our table.
I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. I shrugged off her remark and tried to find my girl again.
My girl? What was that?
But she wasn't at the table and I couldn't see her anywhere else in the room. I sighed and settled for picturing her in my head. I was lost in thought for a while, when a beautiful flowery fragrance swept through my nose.
"Champagne, Your Highness?"
I glanced up; this voice was different to the usual forced accents I heard on a daily basis. This voice was warm, sweet, and American. It was my girl. Incredibly, up close, she was even more beautiful. In fact, breathtaking was a more suitable word.
Her lips were full and pink, but her bottom lip had a small ridge in the centre. As I slowly looked up to her eyes, I saw a blush sweep across her cheeks, and then I found myself staring into a pair of huge brown eyes, so captivating that I couldn't look away.
The blush on her cheeks intensified and I realized she was waiting for me to answer. My shameful ogling had been noticed by all at the table and I became extremely self conscious.
"Oh...yes...yes thank you," I stammered and dropped my eyes to the table.
She dutifully refilled my glass and then moved around the table. The same forced smile fixed on her face.
"Excuse me?" Tanya piped up. "I just adore that pendant. I have never seen anything like it."
I looked up instantly to the girl's neck. The top few buttons on her blouse were open, revealing creamy, white skin and a very unique necklace. It was a knot of intricately woven glass which cast glimmers of light in every direction. It transfixed me almost as much as her eyes.
I saw the girls fingers trace over the chain and pendant. "Thank you. It was a gift from my mother back home."
"Back home?" Tanya pressed, "You're originally from America?" She was smiling like the girl was an old friend.
"Yes. I'm from Washington." I could see she was uncomfortable. Clearly torn between remaining polite, yet anxious to continue with her job.
"What brings you here to London?" Tanya continued but she never got chance to answer.
"Tanya. Let the young lady work," my father snapped. "We aren't here to converse with the staff."
He motioned for the girl to carry on and Tanya looked at her apologetically.
"Really, there was absolutely no need to act like that," I muttered, utterly embarrassed with his outburst. I didn't want her to assume that I was anything like my father.
"Enough, Edward," my mother warned. Her face tight and lips pursed.
I took another long drink and then beckoned the girl back over. "You should probably stay close. I intend on consuming a great deal of that." I narrowed my eyes in my father's direction and then smiled at the girl.
She returned the grin, but gone was the forced expression. Now she was really smiling, her entire face lit up and if at all possible, she looked even more incredible.
With a polite nod she added, "Of course, Your Highness."
I shook my head. "Edward. Please."
A loud bang on the table made everyone jump and caused the glasses on the table rattle.
"Not Edward," my father seethed and glared at the girl. "You will address him correctly, is that clear?" His fist was still clenched on top of the table.
"Yes, Your Highness." The girl bit down on her bottom lip, explaining the prominent ridge I had noticed just moments earlier.
I thought it best to allow him to calm down, so I asked her to refill the glass and then let her continue in silence.
As the evening progressed, the other tables began to liven up. Ours, on the other hand, remained quiet. The jovial laughter from around the room did little to raise our spirits and only highlighted the tension between my father and I.
By some small miracle, as soon as Grand-Bitch had left, my parents followed suit. The lights were dimmed, the music began to play and the real party began.
I looked straight for the girl, but she appeared to have vanished again. I waited, scanning every inch of the room, to no avail.
"Aro, darling. Please come and sit with us." Tanya greeted the man in the aubergine suit again, and patted an empty chair beside her.
"Grazie, Tanya." He flicked his black hair over his shoulder and sat down like a true diva.
"This is a wonderful event, Aro," Tanya crooned. "But I'm afraid Edward is a little disappointed. We appear to be missing a rather attractive young lady."
Aro laughed. "Oh, please don't worry, Your Highness. She will be back." He paused, glancing at me nervously. "Isabella is just having some air. She was extremely hot."
His emphasis on hot was unmissable and James laughed. "I concur."
Without a second thought I stood, ignoring the wry smiles from the others. I knew exactly where she would be getting some air. Towards the rear of the room, there was a small terrace out of sight. It was the entrance the staff used to enter and exit the room.
As soon as I stepped outside I saw her, leaning back against a pillar. The glow of a cigarette in her hand and her eyes looking up to the sky.
My voice startled her and she dropped her cigarette onto the floor. As she recognised me, I saw her frantically trying to remember what she should do.
"Oh shit... Um I mean..." She attempted to curtsy, but instead she stumbled and fell forwards.
Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed her arms to steady her.
"Thank you." She smiled shyly, before adding, "Your Highness."
"Edward remember? My father was just being a pompous fool."
"Okay, Edward." She looked down at the burning cigarette on the floor. "Do you mind?" She gestured to the pack in her hand.
"No, please go ahead." I paused as she opened the packet. "Actually, would you mind if I..." I pointed to the cigarette now in her hand.
Her eyes widened for a second and then she shot me that smile again. It almost rendered me speechless. "Of course not. Please, help yourself."
I took one and smiled. "Thank you."
"No problem. I guess that's not what I expected. Prince Edward bumming a smoke from a waitress." She laughed and offered me her lighter.
I laughed and lit up. Admittedly, I hadn't smoked since university, and I was only having one now in an attempt to stay outside and talk to her, without looking like I was a pathetic fool. "It certainly would be frowned upon, should I get caught in this very compromising situation."
"Indeed." She laced her voice with a fake British accent and then laughed again.
"So, Isabella. How long have you been in England?" I barely touched the cigarette, letting it burn down slowly, dragging out the time I could stay out here with her.
She frowned. "How do you know my name?"
"Your employer, Aro I think his name was, mentioned you were out here getting some air." I shrugged.
"Oh, right. Um, well I've been here for almost five months now. We just got twelve month visas, good job really. You Londoner's certainly know how to rip unsuspecting tourists off."
She proceeded to rant about the cost of living in the city. I let her speak without interruption; I was completely fascinated with her. I moved my eyes from her face and let them trail over her body. She was a tiny little thing, her head barely reaching my shoulders and her frame was just as petite.
When she noticed I was basically eye-fucking her, she stopped talking and began to tap her foot impatiently. I looked back up to her face and she eyed me angrily.
"Are you done? Or would you like me to turn around so you can stare at my ass?"
"Well yes, that would be rather nice as a matter of fact." I smirked, but she didn't see the funny side.
"Well it would seem that even well brought up Royals can be sexist jerks. That must be something that comes with having a dick in your shorts." She threw her cigarette onto the floor and began to stalk away.
I moved quickly to block her path. "I'm sorry."
She sighed. "Whatever, Your Highness. I need to get back to work."
"Will you be having another break?" I asked hopefully.
"More than likely. Why do you want to join me for another secret smoke?" She looked up at me.
"Actually, yes I would. Come and find me beforehand Isabella?" I stepped aside and allowed her to walk back inside.
"I'll think about it." She turned back quickly and smiled. "And it's just Bella."
Fucking shitwads. Prince frickin Edward had just joined me for a smoke outside Buckingham Palace. He had looked me up and down and I knew he watched my ass as I walked away. I was thoroughly confused. Undeniably, Prince Edward was panty-wetting sexy, but he was... well yeah... he was a fucking prince.
I had been perfectly content to be working my little corner of the room. My table was not full of people who demanded I address them as Your Highness. The honour of serving the royal table fell to Heidi. I wasn't jealous at all that she was up close and personal with two very fine looking Princes. Not jealous, not jealous, not jealous.
Aro had caught me completely off guard when he asked me to switch tables with Heidi. In fact if looks could kill, I would have been dead ten times over. As one of the more experienced members of staff, Heidi had earned the right to tend to the most important guests and she was furious.
"You aren't serious, Aro?" She spat in my direction.
"Enough, Heidi," Aro warned. "My company, my choice. It was a specific request from a very dear friend of mine. If you don't like it then you know exactly where the door is. I have no qualms about making this shift your last."
She stalked off without another word and I groaned, "Why on earth would you want me to work that table?"
"Bella, I don't. Your track history at falling over your own feet speaks for itself." Aro chuckled. "Unfortunately, someone at that table does. So please try not to embarrass yourself, or me." He winked and then floated away gracefully.
"Well this is going to be interesting." I took a deep breath and walked over to the table extremely nervously.
I wasn't a fan of the Royal Family. The entire concept seemed so dated and I was unsure as to the point of it all. What did the Queen do exactly? Britain had a Prime Minister who appeared to responsible for the day to day running of the country.
The only things I had seen the ruler of England do, was make a few appearances here and there, talk like she had someone squeezing her nose really hard and judging by tonight, she threw a pretty dismal party.
In fact, what did any of them do? The Queen, her husband, son or grandchildren? Okay I was just a visitor to the country, but still, I had spoken with enough people since I arrived to get the distinct impression, that the majority of the locals saw the Royal Family as nothing more than a tourist attraction. And seriously what was with the names? Everyone shared the same god damn old fashioned names. Imagine how much better Prince Levi or Princess Shiloh would sound.
I offered drinks to the guests, starting first with Prince Edward (senior). This man was the definition of "fucking pompous ass", he was dismissive and rude. Yet even well into his fifties, it was apparent just how handsome he was. In fact the entire family were genetically gifted. Prince Edwards's wife, Elizabeth, was incredibly beautiful and their two sons had inherited the good looks.
James, the younger of the two, resembled his father. His features were more rigid and his hair was cropped short and styled neatly. He appeared relaxed and jovial, in dark contrast to his elder brother.
Prince Edward (junior) looked irritated and was frowning as he looked down at the white table cloth. If we're discussing the looks of the family, I can find just one expression to describe Edward.
Homana, homana, homana.
He looked just like his mother and father. He took the best features from both. Looking soft and warm in one glance and then masculine and strong in another. His eyes were the most unusual shade of green I had ever seen. They reminded me of the empty bottles of wine that were a feature in the restaurant. Glassy, deep and rich and I wanted to stare at them all night. The mop of bronze hair on his head was in such a state of disarray, that it actually looked like he had arrived straight after a sexathon. I pictured some prissy English chick running her hands through his hair, before replacing that image with my own hands and almost moaned out loud at the prospect.
I realised I was staring shamelessly at him and I blushed, the blush only worsened when I noticed he was looking right back. I almost died with embarrassment, but rather than look annoyed at my leering, he was smouldering and it sent shivers down my spine. He didn't break our gaze for a minute or so, he seemed as oblivious to our audience as I had been.
I had no idea how long I had been stood there like a complete imbecile, but soon enough, Prince Hotward dropped his eyes and inclined his head toward his glass. Not wanting to seem even more unprofessional than I had already acted, I refilled his glass and moved onto another guest. The last thing I needed was a complaint that I had been eye-fucking the Queen's grandson. While Aro and Markus were wonderful employers when you were on the ball; fuck up and you would be out on your ass faster than shit off a shovel.
I resumed serving, fighting an overwhelming urge to look back at him. Even during his intense stare, his eyes seemed sad, lost even and I found myself affected by it. Okay, I was affected by all of him and my hormones were wide awake and screaming for more.
I almost did a happy dance when I was asked to call him Edward, but of course his pompous ass father totally pissed on my parade and Edward closed off. I left the table and hovered nearby, just in case I was called upon again. But, unfortunately, I wasn't.
Breaks were hard to come by at events like this; so when Aro told me to take mine, I made a dash straight outside to have a smoke. I was minding my own business, looking up at the dark sky when I was completely taken off guard. I hadn't expected any company whatsoever, and certainly not that of Prince Edward. In a ridiculous attempt to remain professional I moved to curtsy, but surprise did nothing to help my already lacking coordination, and I almost fell on my ass.
A pair of hands grabbed my arms to steady me, and the jolt of electricity that passed through me, left every nerve ending tingling in delight. It took all my willpower not to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist and beg him to take me right there.
Had I mentioned sex had been a little thin on the ground since we arrived?
We remained outside for ten minutes or so, talking, smoking and interacting like two regular people and I almost fell over again when he asked if he could join me on my next break. What the hell was going on? Why was he talking to me? Why was he staring at me?
I had replayed those questions in my head over and over during the course of the night. Still no closer to an answer, I couldn't resist glancing over at him every chance I got. As was pretty much usual, as soon as the party was in full flow, no one person worked a table. All of the servers were waiting on everyone, making sure the guests wanted for nothing.
Even though I wasn't serving him, even though I wasn't talking to him—I could still feel his eyes on me and I frequently met his gaze, cheekily adding a wink every now and then. Our exchange went unnoticed and I prayed I'd get a spare five minutes sooner rather than later.
When Aro returned to the table to sit with the pretty blond woman who had quizzed me about my necklace, he waved me over to serve more champagne. Edward smiled at me and I swear my stomach flipped like I was on a roller coaster.
After the departure of the senior Royals, a few other men had planted themselves at the main table and were chatting animatedly with Edwards's younger brother. Much to my annoyance, I drew the attention of one of them.
"Another drink please, pretty lady." A scruffy looking man blew me a kiss and laughed. The scruffy beard and rumpled clothes was clearly part of an intentional look as his voice told me straight away, this guy was as upper class as everyone else in the room.
"Of course, Sir," I replied politely and turned away.
"Wait!" He set his hand on my hip, rather inappropriately and stopped me. "What's your name?"
Aro was engrossed in a conversation and failed to notice the exchange. I didn't know how to react so I answered him as icily as I could without risking a complaint, "Isabella."
"Well that is certainly a beautiful name, Isabella." He smiled. "It suits you perfectly." He didn't remove his hand, instead his grip tightened. "Tell me, Isabella, did you bring your toothbrush with you tonight?"
I frowned at him. "Excuse me?"
"I asked if you had your toothbrush with you," he slurred.
Perfect an upper class drunk—just what I needed. "Why would you want to know that?" I forced my voice to sound sweet.
He laughed. "Well, you'll need it tomorrow morning when we wake up together after a night of mind-blowing shagging." He moved his hand and placed it on my ass. "What do you say? Shall we leave now?"
I forgot about all about professionalism and I crouched down beside him. Pressing my lips to his ears I hissed, "I would rather be sodomised with a fucking toothbrush." I stood and added, "Sir."
I heard a few snorts of laughter as I walked away and couldn't help but smile.
I was gutted when Aro told several of the servers to take off. The party had quietened down considerably and there was no need for us all to be hanging around redundantly. Jessica was staying to the end and then going for a drink with Mike, one of only two male members of staff here tonight.
Begrudgingly, I took one last glance to Edward who was stood with his brother and a few other men I didn't recognise. I almost waved my packet of cigarettes up in the air to get his attention, but I didn't.
I walked quickly outside and checked my watch. If I was lucky I could catch the last train home. The underground closed at eleven and it was now ten minutes to. I hated walking home alone, but I was still boycotting taxi's so it left me with little alternative.
"Ah shit," I swore loudly as I reached the station. The gates were locked. "God damn, motherfucking shit."
It was a good forty five minute walk home from here, so I braced myself for the experience and set off. I barely made it three steps before I heard a car slow down behind me. I increased my pace and kept my eyes forward. It crawled alongside me and then stopped. I tensed and looked around to see if there was anyone who I could ask for help.
"I really don't think you should be walking home alone. It isn't safe."
I smiled before I even saw him. Edward was peering through the rear passenger side window, a grin planted firmly on that sexy-ass face.
"I think the car is more at risk than I am," I teased and stepped closer to the car.
"May we drive you?" He spoke with such perfect pronunciation, but his voice was warm and inviting.
"That's not necessary," I began to protest but I was quickly cut off.
"That is a matter of opinion. Any in my opinion—it is most certainly necessary. Please get in the car?" The door swung open and I saw Edward move across the seat.
We appeared to have upgraded from simply having a smoke with the future King of England, to going for a drive with him.
"Okay, if you insist." I climbed in and closed the door. I told the driver my address. "Sorry, it's not the best neighbourhood. You might want to throw me out while the car is still moving before anyone can steal the wheels."
Edward moved slightly closer and my breath hitched nervously. "I was disappointed you left without us having our second 'date'." He smiled a wonderfully sexy, one-sided smirk and I swear my underwear almost ripped itself off in delight.
"Sorry," I whispered, not quite sure what else to say.
"I should think so. I know you're American, but surely you know just how important I am?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
I laughed loudly and it took me completely by surprise. "So sorry, Your Highness. Would you care for a cigarette?"
"Absolutely. But maybe it would be best if we wait until we get out of the car." He grinned and I nodded enthusiastically.
It didn't take us long to reach my apartment. I was cringing in shame as we turned onto the ramshackle street. I chanced a look up at our floor and groaned. The light was still on which meant someone was at home and awake.
"Perhaps I could take you up on that cigarette now?" Edward instructed the driver to remain in the car and climbed out cautiously. "Better leave the engine running Sam. As Bella pointed out, we wouldn't want someone stealing the wheels." He winked at me and I heard his driver chuckle.
"Hey I was being serious," I warned.
In true gentlemanly fashion, Edward held out his hand to help me from the car. I quickly wiped my very sweaty palm on my trousers and reached out to take his hand gingerly.
"We can't go inside..." I looked up deliberately and he followed my gaze. "My roommates are home."
"Here we stay then." He grinned and sat down on the steps which ran to the front door. He patted the floor beside him and waited for me to do the same. I followed his lead obediently and handed him the packet and lighter.
We sat in relative silence and I couldn't help but notice he only took one or two drags on the cigarette. In comparison I was puffing away like my life depended on it. The unease and awkwardness was obvious and I desperately tried to think of something to say.
But what the hell do you talk to a Prince about?
So, Eddie, have you seen any good movies recently? It's a bit of a fucker that you can't smoke in bars and shit now huh?
Yeah, it was probably best I keep quiet.
The downside to smoking like a train, happened to be the rapid time it took me to finish. I couldn't light another one; I was feeling slightly lightheaded and nauseous from the quick intake of nicotine.
"I should probably go inside." I smiled and got to my feet.
Edward nodded. The small furrow in his brow and down-turned lips led me to believe he wasn't quite ready to say goodnight. I didn't know what he expected but if he had visions of me sucking him off out here on the street he was vastly mistaken.
Although, when I thought about it...
"Thank you, Bella." Edward's voice interrupted my thoughts. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"You too." I grinned. "Your Highness."
He rolled his eyes and wished me goodnight, before walking to the car. He hesitated at the door and looked back in my direction one last time before he got inside.
After the car had driven off, I released one or two, "fucks" and "shits". I had just been sitting talking to Prince fucking Edward and all I had to offer was;
I should probably go inside.
What kind of fucking idiot was I? Answer—a big fucking idiot.
With a sigh, I trudged upstairs and opened the door into our apartment. I heard the television blaring, but Rosalie and Angela were both fast asleep on the couch. I wasn't feeling in the mood to chat and I needed to sleep, so I made my way quietly to my room.
As it was only a two-bedroom place, we each had to share. Rose and Jessica both liked to hog the mirror for hours on end, preening and perfecting their hair and face. Rather than have them constantly fighting for the seat in front of said mirror; I shared with Jessica and Angela with Rose.
I stripped out of my seriously unfashionable work uniform and grabbed an over sized sweater that belonged to one of Jessica's more recent conquests. It was huge and hung off one shoulder, but it just about covered my ass and I didn't bother putting anything else on my bottom half other than my underwear.
I heard a faint tap at the door and assumed it was Jessica. She made it a habit to forget, or lose her keys and I opened the door quickly without checking to see who was behind it.
A strangled squeal escaped my lips when I saw who it actually was. Prince Hotward was stood in my doorway, an unopened packet of Marlboro's in his hand. He wasn't looking at my face though. His eyes were lingering on my exposed legs.
"Ah shit. I thought you were Jessica. I'm sorry." I choked and Edwards's eyes immediately snapped up to my face.
"I... I... wanted... I mean... I thought I should repay you for the cigarettes." He thrust the packet at me nervously.
"You shouldn't have," I mumbled and yanked the sweater down as low as I could. "Fuck I'm embarrassed." I could feel my cheeks glowing redder and redder as I spoke.
He ran a hand through his hair. "It's certainly an interesting look." Edward's gaze dropped again and he actually licked his fucking lips.
Holy shit, I almost came right there. Stupid, stupid sexy Prince.
"Would you like a drink... or something?"
What the hell was I doing? You can't just invite a Prince into your shit hole apartment and offer him a mug of cheap ass coffee or stagnant tap water—could you?
Edward's eyes widened and that god damn crooked smirk made an appearance again. "Yes. Thank you."
He strode inside confidently and then noticed my friends asleep on the couch. I could see he stifled a laugh when he heard the loud snores rippling from Rose.
"If you don't mind... we'll have to um ...talk in my room. You really don't want these two to wake up while you're here." I showed him to my room and then left him alone while I made the coffee'
I panicked immediately. Oh, bugger, fuck, crap. Now what? I took far longer than necessary to make the drinks and then walked nervously to my room.
I closed the door behind me and prayed Jessica would remember our "rule". We were all single girls and had made the decision early on that male company was allowed should the moment present itself. However, rather than giving unsuspecting roommates a few unwanted surprises, if the door was fully closed to our bedroom, then it was to be assumed that the room was engage' and alternative sleeping arrangements had to be made.
There was a fold away bed in one of the couches and more than enough blankets, so it wasn't as though one of us got the short straw and had to curl up on the floor. Jessica had invited Mike from work over on more than one occasion, so I figured she could hardly say anything to me. The only problem tonight was, I was here, barely clothed, entertaining a fucking Prince.
Perhaps I had been slipped some kind of drug and was currently experiencing a hallucination?
"Sorry about the mess." I handed him his coffee and began gathering some of the clothes that were strewn about the room. "I wasn't expecting company."
Edward dismissed my apology and made himself comfortable on my bed. "What did you do in the States, before you came here?"
"Um, I had just graduated college. I majored in English Literature; I always figured I'd get a job as a teacher or something. But then we decided to come here for a year so that's kind of on the back burner."
I perched on the edge of the bed, but it was only a single bed and Edward was a tall guy so wherever I sat, he was within touching distance and the urge to do just that was overpowering. I simultaneously felt nervous and god damn fucking horny.
We fell into a comfortable chat and the man was intriguing so say the least. I was surprised to learn he had been spending as much time as he could out of the public eye, in an attempt to regain control of his life, and shield himself from the pressure his Father had been putting him under to become a more of a public face.
We talked for well over an hour, our cups were empty, but I didn't offer him another. I was spellbound and did I mention—horny?
Unfortunately, Edward got up from the bed. "I think I should be going now,"
I nodded and went to open the door when I heard voices outside.
"Problem?" he asked, looking a little anxious as he spoke.
"Yeah, could you just wait a minute? I can hear my roommates. They won't come in as long as the door is closed. But I'd much prefer they didn't know you were here. I'm sure you can imagine what reaction you'd get?" I smiled nervously and turned so my back was up against the door.
He moved closer, close enough that his chest was pressed against me with the faintest of pressure. His face was only inches from mine, I could see the intensity burning in his eyes and I could feel his breath, tinged with the scent of coffee, wash over me. I was barely in control of myself and I reacted like a dog on heat.
I stood on my tip toes and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and moulded themselves to mine perfectly. I had been expecting him to pull away, so I was delighted when he responded eagerly.
His hands clutched at my waist and I knotted my fingers in his hair, holding his face as close to mine as I could. I was driven wild by his taste. It was so unique, like nothing I had ever come across. I needed to feel more of him, so I moved my hands down his neck and across his shoulders. I pushed the jacket down his arms and it fell to the floor. My fingers then unknotted the tie and pulled it off in one swift motion. Immediately, I set to work on the buttons to his shirt, my hands were trembling with desire, and as the material separated I looked down at his body. Toned, perfectly defined but not overly muscular, and smooth as silk. But from his naval, I could see a few hairs trail south towards the jackpot.
Once the shirt had been disposed off I allowed my hands to wander lazily across his body. I didn't need to see his back, to feel the same sculpted physique. Edward's hands slipped down to my ass and then up inside my sweater. His fingers were leaving trails of burning skin as he skimmed them over my breasts.
He moaned softly against my lips and the sound elicited a similar response from me. I fumbled with his belt and button on his pants, and as soon as I pushed them down I could see his very prominent Royal Staff bursting out of his boxer shorts.
I bit my lip at the sight. Royal Staff, dick, penis. Call it what you will, but I, Isabella Swan, was actually looking at Prince Edward in nothing but his underwear.
Seriously—best drugs ever!
As I was ogling, my hands were raised above my head, and the sweater pulled off in once swift motion. He threw it casually onto the floor and then looked at me nervously. Silently asking if this was what I wanted. Not even a question really, but had it been, the answer was a simple—fuck yeah I want.
I pushed him backwards and onto the bed roughly, climbing over him in nothing but my underwear. I began kissing down his neck, chest and abdomen. Thoroughly excited at getting a bit of face to face time with the Royal Staff. I pulled down his boxer shorts and he swore under his breath. Even more turned on than I ever thought humanly possible, I glanced up at him through my lashes as I flicked my tongue across his head.
A strangled and rather loud groan escaped his lips. "Ssh," I laughed and he swore again as my breath blew against him.
I ran my tongue up and down his length a few times before I took him fully in my mouth. Edward's hands gripped my head, and I had another brief reality check.
Prince Edward currently has his dick in my mouth. Fucking unbelievable.
I wasn't usually a fan of giving head, in fact my very tactful friends had given me the very affectionate nickname of, No-blow-job-Bella. But much to my surprise, tonight I was actually quite enjoying it. Something about the effect it seemed to be having on him spurred me on even more and I could feel his hold tighten on my head. His breathing grew more erratic and he choked out a feeble plea for me to move. Ignoring him, I took him a little deeper and grazed my teeth gently against his skin as I did so.
I didn't flinch as he came in my mouth. I just swallowed the warm, salty release without a second thought. I looked up at him and his head was back against the pillow, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.
I sang God Bless America in my head, because I had just given Prince Edward a blow job.
"Jesus, Bella," he gasped, his eyes now open and staring straight at me.
I suddenly felt a little self-conscious and I crawled tentatively up the bed to lie beside him. I had to press myself up to him closely otherwise I would have fallen onto the floor.
Before I could feel any more nervous Edward rolled over, pulling me underneath him and kissed me passionately. The horn returned in an instance and I lost all inhibitions again.
He began to brush his lips and tongue to my neck, across my collar bone and down to my breasts. I moaned as his tongue swept across my nipples and then drifted lower and lower. With one finger hooked into each side of my underwear, he slowly pulled them down before settling in between my legs.
I tensed; the anticipation of what he was about to do almost sent me over the edge. Barely touching my skin, his lips ghosted across the inner thigh of one leg, before sweeping his nose and mouth across my centre and onto the other leg.
I swallowed nervously, desperate for him to return his attention to where I needed it the most. When he finally did, I felt as though I was about to burst into flames. His tongue danced around in the most mind blowing way and almost immediately I felt my stomach tighten. The waves of pleasure started to build and I was teetering on the edge, not quite ready for it to be over just yet, I hung on as long as I could. I wanted to savour every last second, because this was simply divine. When I felt him push one finger inside me, followed instantly by another, I could hang on no more. I covered my face with a pillow to muffle the screams of delight that I couldn't hold in any longer.
I squirmed as he kissed his way back up my body. It was too much to bear, it was as though every single nerve had been ignited, and I could feel every touch on an entirely new level. He was looking rather pleased with himself and with good reason.
When he kissed me, I could taste myself on his lips, but instead of feeling uncomfortable, I was even more turned on. I wrapped my legs around him tightly and ground my hips against him.
"Um... Do we need?" He looked a little uneasy having to ask, "I don't ... You know. I'm... But..."
"Me either and I'm on the pill. But if you would rather..."
He shook his head and placed a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. "I trust you," he whispered and then pushed inside me.
A faint growl, rumbled in his chest and he remained still for a second. Impatiently I rocked my hips, needing to feel more. My bed was squeaking loudly and the headboard was rather ungraciously banging against the wall, there was no mistaking what was going on, but I was beyond caring.
It only took a few deep thrusts from Edward, before I could feel the waves again. They were building so much faster than before, I dug my nails into the skin on his back and pulled him as close to me as I could. Those already sensitive nerve-endings were literally exploding and I experienced the most powerful orgasm I'd ever had. My reaction seemed to send Edward over the edge and he swore one last time before stilling inside me. Our bodies were trembling and sweaty, but we needed a few minutes to come down from the almighty high we had just experienced.
It was surreal; I had just had the most amazing sex of my fucking life, with a man who was the most intriguing and devastatingly handsome man I had ever met. That in itself would have been more than enough to leave me a little overwhelmed, but add to that, the man was actually a future King and it was beyond comprehension.
I was a little lost for words. What did I say now?
Okay, thanks for the big 'O' your Highness.
Not trusting my brain to come up with anything, I waited for Edward to speak first, but instead, he kissed me. A kiss laced with affection and it removed all trace of unease from me.
"I don't think we were discreet." He smirked. "I would say I'm sorry, but I'm truly not sorry at all."
I laughed, feeling his body shake as I did. "Snap. But they'll be waiting for me to explain as soon as I emerge in the morning."
I saw his panicked expression. "Don't worry, I won't tell them all the details."
"So in effect, you could say, I'll be your dirty little secret?" He laughed, his features softening as he did.
"Yeah something like that."
I showed him to the bathroom and then hovered by the door to make sure no one else was about. I could see Jess curled up on the couch, but Angela and Rose were nowhere in sight.
As soon as Edward was done, I cleaned up and then skipped back to my bedroom. I found him sitting on my bed in his boxers.
Seeing him like that, on my fucking bed, got me all riled up and I wanted to start all over again, but I resisted—for now at least.
"Did you have your driver wait?" I looked through the window, but couldn't see the car anywhere.
"Um, no actually. I told Sam I'd call when I needed him to pick me up. I was hoping I would be here for a while." He shot me that crooked grin again.
Should I have been offended by his presumption? Possibly, but I wasn't. Not in the slightest.
"Well, you're more than welcome to stay here, if you like. I can hop into Jessica's bed," I offered.
He shook his head. "I'd much prefer you were right here." He reached forward to take my hand and pulled me onto the bed.
I woke up with a heavy, warm arm draped across me. My legs were tangled up in a knot with Edward's and his hot breath tickling the back of my neck.
Okay Bella, don't start stressing. I chanted over and over in my head.
Why on earth would I be stressing? What was there to stress about? Oh yeah, I remember, Prince mother fucking Edward is in my bed... with me... naked. Oh, and aroused—mm, interesting!
I heard a muffled vibrating sound coming from the bedroom floor. I presumed it was Edward's phone. Faced with a new dilemma, I wondered what to do. Wake him? Answer his phone? Well let's imagine answering it fist of all;
Good morning, HRH Prince Edward's phone, Isabella speaking how may I help you? Oh, I'm sorry, Your Majesty, your grandson is asleep at the moment. I'd rather not wake him just yet—you see we spent the night having the most fuck hot sex ever. Can I ask him to return your call?
As much fun as that sounded, I decided the safer option would be to wake Edward.
New question, how should one wake a member of the Royal family? I seriously doubted that, "OI YOU LAZY MO FO GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!" was the way to go, so I gently shook his shoulder instead.
His eyes opened slowly and he smiled sleepily. "Morning."
"Um hi. Your phone is ringing I think," I mumbled and he disentangled himself from me and rolled over to retrieve it.
"Do you mind if I answer it?" he asked nervously and I shook my head. "Morning, Tanya. I was wondering if you could cover for me..." His shoulders relaxed, I could hear the woman's voice on the other end of the phone laughing. "Okay I will." He turned to face me and smiled. "Tanya says 'hi'."
"Oh... um hi back." I giggled nervously, wondering who the fuck Tanya was.
"No, I promise I'll be back in an hour... or two. Yes please send Sam. Thanks, Tan, you're a star." He set his phone down and sighed. "I have to meet my family for lunch later."
"Oh, okay." I paused, noticing his eyes had that same look of sadness again. "Do you not want to go?"
"Not in the slightest. Apart from the fact I quite like being here with you, I really cannot be bothered to get into yet another discussion with my father."
"Responsibility again?" I guessed. We had touched on the subject last night.
"I have to admit. I don't envy you," I admitted. "I don't mean to offend you, but I can't think of a worse way to live."
"Explain?" he pressed, not looking upset with my words.
"Well, maybe my mother's more free-spirited side has left its mark on me, but, I like the uncertainty in life. The fact that I can choose to go left or right without consequence." I grimaced slightly. "Everything you do has consequence. Even being here with me."
He nodded. "My sentiment exactly."
We sat in silence for a minute or two and I felt annoyed. I had really killed the moment.
"Bella?" he asked. "Can I see you again?"
Shit—I hadn't seen that one coming.
"Do you really think that's such a great idea?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly.
"It is if I want to." He shrugged. "I like you. You're smart, funny and beautiful. I really would like to see you again."
I sighed. "I had a fucking fantastic time, Edward. But it's never going to be anything more than this." I moved my hand back and forth between us, as if to emphasize my point.
"Why not?" he demanded. The most assertive I'd seen him since last night.
"Well you're Prince Edward, obviously. And one day you're going to be King. As much fun as we've had, there's no way I want to be involved in that. I mean... shit. I just think it would be best if we said goodbye now."
What the fucking hell was wrong with me? I had just become friends with my long forgotten friend, Mrs. Orgasm and I was chasing the man who reacquainted us from my apartment.
"So what you're trying to say is that you wouldn't want to become my girlfriend? You wouldn't want to one day marry me and become Princess Isabella?" he teased.
"Not only do I certainly not want that. The good people of England wouldn't want me as Queen." I laughed. The conversation seemed to have shifted back to playful banter again.
"I think you'd make a wonderful Queen. Especially if you swore as much as you do now."
Somehow he had manoeuvred us, and he was now pinning me to the bed.
"Hey if you're looking for the perfect Queen, you should give my boss Aro a call." I giggled.
"Okay, new question. How long are you in England?" He breathed seductively, his lips kissing my neck, making it extremely hard to concentrate.
"About another seven months," I gasped as his he slid two fingers inside me.
"Can I keep you until then?" He moved his mouth back to mine. "We can just be Bella and Edward, two people who happen to have an incredible time together. Then when you leave, I can resume my search for the future Queen of England."
Another seven months of this? Fuck. That sounded good. I tried to form a coherent sentence, but his fingers were so fucking good at distracting me.
"Okay, I think I can agree to that. But you have to promise me something?"
"Anything." He chuckled.
"Under no circumstances must you fall in love with me, Your Highness." I mocked and he laughed.
"I think I should be instructing you to do the same."
"Um, I thought you had to leave?" I protested pathetically. We both knew he wasn't going anywhere for the time being. "You're driver might be waiting."
"Silly, Bella. So what if my driver has to wait for me? It's not as though he's going to say anything if I'm late. Don't you remember who I am?"
I choked out a faint laugh and then immediately forgot what was so funny.
Another peel me off the ceiling and slap my face with a fish orgasm later, I helped Edward sneak unnoticed from my apartment.
I was high, absolutely mind-tripping high. Only, without the actual drugs. Desperate to talk to someone but Angela and Rose were still sleeping and poor old Jessica was still curled up in the lounge. I busied myself tidying and cleaning, thinking constantly about what had just happened in my bedroom.
One immaculately clean apartment later, I had come to a conclusion. It would appear I had found my perfect man.
Another seven months of enjoying the Royal Staff without any of the hassle that went with being Edwards's girlfriend.
Sounded pretty much like heaven to me.
A/N - Thoughts?
I hope you enjoyed it and didn't take it too seriously, like I mentioned above, I just wanted to have a bit of fun. Thanks for reading and I would love to hear what you made of it.
I would have loved to elaborated on a few of the characters, but it was fast becoming too long and I needed to reign in my enthusiasm!