Page 57
Story: Good As Hell
“Well, I’m sure there’s going to be some backlash.” Shrugging with nonchalantness that I don’t feel, I take my seat again, curling my feet under me.
“You have to lean into the power you have here. The prince gives you that,” Fi says. “You’re his mom. Everyone else falls back on that power alone. You just have to claim it. How do you think the consorts of old ran these places?”
“I see you’ve been doing some light reading?” Indy says, scrolling her device. I almost miss when she darts a look at me, then hurries to scroll away.
“What’s that Indy?” I ask, reaching for her iPad.
“Some mess.” She grumbles as I take it from her hand.
“Hmph.” Looking down, I see a pic taken of him laughing with Princess Amani, Khadijah, and some other socialites.
At first I think it’s from the past until I read the caption:
Crown Prince Hassan Al Rasheed with former fiancee, Khadijah Bin Saladin at the impromptu charity gala for the earthquake survivors, the heiress threw instead of the engagement party, the two were supposed to have the same day.
Many times I’ve I asked the Lord to give me confirmation about my place here. Never thought it would come as quick as it did after my pervious thoughts.
I’m being shown clearly this is not my place. Unintentionally as is it is, I’ve usurped this girl’s place and still she’s doing more queenly things than me. I can’t even go help the people because someone keeps trying to kill me. Part of me wants to blame her, but even after our brief meeting, I know it doesn’t fit the vibe.
I don’t miss the comments of the people wishing they were a couple, saying how cute they are or how she’s the genuine princess; the one the people connect with.
“Messy as ever.” Handing it back over to her, I try not to let it bother me, but I don’t lie to myself or them.
“Ummy.” My son’s cheery voice mixing his two names for me catches me right before a depressive episode can emerge. All the adversity of the day melts away in his smile.
“I see you started without me.”The heavy baritone has me looking up to the jade gaze of my husband. His mouth bracketed by stern lines. I can’t help thinking that the more responsibility he takes on for the kingdom, the less he smiles.
“You’ve been doing quite a lot without me, too — husband.” With cool deliberation, I roll my eyes at him, leaving them closed when I add, “Charity galas with your ex-fiancee, for example.”
I’ve never been passive aggressive. I don’t believe in letting things linger. Coming at your face when I attack. Never one to throw the rock and hide my hand. That’s why I can’t stand a cheater. Stand up in your shit — own it. Don’t play in my face when you know things aren’t what they need to be. Let me know so I can fix it or get the hell on.
I hear nothing for a solid ten ten seconds. At the sound of him shucking off his clothes, I peek. Gotdamn. Did he get finer as I recuperated? I can’t help the way my treacherous pussy clenches at the sight of his abs flexing with every movement. This motherfucker, I swear.
My eyes widen fully when he steps into the swimming pool size bath with his dick swinging. It’s long, thick and strong, rising from a nest of dark curls rising well past his navel. Sliding back against the wall seat as he approaches. I shake my head.
“Never.” He growls. Stepping to me, pushing my thighs open.
“Wh—”
“Never question my loyalty, little sparrow.” He notches his dick at my entrance. Gaze hard, jaw flexing, his stare drinks me in. “I’d never dishonor you.”
I gasp as he pushes in. My body struggles to take him. His hard mouth, luscious lips already on mine, giving me time to adjust to his massiveness.
“Sparrow,” he groans, pulling back from the tangle of our tongues as inch by delicious inch, my body accepts him.
“Don’t hurt me,” I plead.
He pauses, his gaze on me. “Never.” His strokes are gentle, though we both know I’m talking about my heart and not his lovemaking.
“Hassan,” I whimper as he surges inside me. It’s been so long for us.
Lifting my bottom, he angles me to take him deeper.
“My good little sparrow, taking me to fucking well.” Bottoming out, he holds me, fucking me so deep the water sloshes around us, adding to the colophony of sound surrounding us.
Arching, I do my best to meet every surging drive of his heavy dick.
“Fuck yeah, wife,” he praises his dick digging into every inch of me.
“You have to lean into the power you have here. The prince gives you that,” Fi says. “You’re his mom. Everyone else falls back on that power alone. You just have to claim it. How do you think the consorts of old ran these places?”
“I see you’ve been doing some light reading?” Indy says, scrolling her device. I almost miss when she darts a look at me, then hurries to scroll away.
“What’s that Indy?” I ask, reaching for her iPad.
“Some mess.” She grumbles as I take it from her hand.
“Hmph.” Looking down, I see a pic taken of him laughing with Princess Amani, Khadijah, and some other socialites.
At first I think it’s from the past until I read the caption:
Crown Prince Hassan Al Rasheed with former fiancee, Khadijah Bin Saladin at the impromptu charity gala for the earthquake survivors, the heiress threw instead of the engagement party, the two were supposed to have the same day.
Many times I’ve I asked the Lord to give me confirmation about my place here. Never thought it would come as quick as it did after my pervious thoughts.
I’m being shown clearly this is not my place. Unintentionally as is it is, I’ve usurped this girl’s place and still she’s doing more queenly things than me. I can’t even go help the people because someone keeps trying to kill me. Part of me wants to blame her, but even after our brief meeting, I know it doesn’t fit the vibe.
I don’t miss the comments of the people wishing they were a couple, saying how cute they are or how she’s the genuine princess; the one the people connect with.
“Messy as ever.” Handing it back over to her, I try not to let it bother me, but I don’t lie to myself or them.
“Ummy.” My son’s cheery voice mixing his two names for me catches me right before a depressive episode can emerge. All the adversity of the day melts away in his smile.
“I see you started without me.”The heavy baritone has me looking up to the jade gaze of my husband. His mouth bracketed by stern lines. I can’t help thinking that the more responsibility he takes on for the kingdom, the less he smiles.
“You’ve been doing quite a lot without me, too — husband.” With cool deliberation, I roll my eyes at him, leaving them closed when I add, “Charity galas with your ex-fiancee, for example.”
I’ve never been passive aggressive. I don’t believe in letting things linger. Coming at your face when I attack. Never one to throw the rock and hide my hand. That’s why I can’t stand a cheater. Stand up in your shit — own it. Don’t play in my face when you know things aren’t what they need to be. Let me know so I can fix it or get the hell on.
I hear nothing for a solid ten ten seconds. At the sound of him shucking off his clothes, I peek. Gotdamn. Did he get finer as I recuperated? I can’t help the way my treacherous pussy clenches at the sight of his abs flexing with every movement. This motherfucker, I swear.
My eyes widen fully when he steps into the swimming pool size bath with his dick swinging. It’s long, thick and strong, rising from a nest of dark curls rising well past his navel. Sliding back against the wall seat as he approaches. I shake my head.
“Never.” He growls. Stepping to me, pushing my thighs open.
“Wh—”
“Never question my loyalty, little sparrow.” He notches his dick at my entrance. Gaze hard, jaw flexing, his stare drinks me in. “I’d never dishonor you.”
I gasp as he pushes in. My body struggles to take him. His hard mouth, luscious lips already on mine, giving me time to adjust to his massiveness.
“Sparrow,” he groans, pulling back from the tangle of our tongues as inch by delicious inch, my body accepts him.
“Don’t hurt me,” I plead.
He pauses, his gaze on me. “Never.” His strokes are gentle, though we both know I’m talking about my heart and not his lovemaking.
“Hassan,” I whimper as he surges inside me. It’s been so long for us.
Lifting my bottom, he angles me to take him deeper.
“My good little sparrow, taking me to fucking well.” Bottoming out, he holds me, fucking me so deep the water sloshes around us, adding to the colophony of sound surrounding us.
Arching, I do my best to meet every surging drive of his heavy dick.
“Fuck yeah, wife,” he praises his dick digging into every inch of me.
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