Page 79 of A Royal Mistake

Pippa’s tongue swirled over his shaft and stars exploded behind his eyelids.

If it was a dream, he had no interest in waking up.

Her lips wrapped around his cock as she took him into the hot, wet recesses of her mouth, one hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock.

She worked him with the same single-minded determination she gave everything else, stroking his shaft with her tongue and electrifying every nerve ending in his body as she took him deep. He tangled his fingers in her hair, releasing the golden strands from the bun and wrapping them around his fist.

It was only an illusion of control. Pippa was in charge, setting the pace, just as he’d promised. She was in complete control and he gave himself over to her desires, content to accept whatever she was offering.

For now.

He watched as her head bobbed up and down, full lips sliding over his shaft to deliver sinful pleasure. The woman was incredible, giving and giving and expecting nothing in return as she drove him to the brink of madness with her touch. The tension in his balls reached a dizzying crescendo, and he barked out a warning, his voice low and gravelly.

“I’m going to come, Pippa.”

She just gazed up at him with that devilish look in her eyes and increased the pace, determined to take everything he had to give. The orgasm exploded at the base of his spine and his hips bucked off the couch, pleasure coursing through his body as his muscles contracted with blinding pleasure. Pippa was relentless, drawing every last ripple of sensation from his body as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When he finally stilled, she studied him, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “I guess I did okay for my first time. I always was a quick study.”

“It was perfect,” he said, drawing her into his lap and stealing a languid kiss. “You’re fucking perfect.”

If only they could be perfect together.

READY. AIM. FIRE!

Hello, lovelies. We know it’s been a hot minute since we’ve had a royal scoop and trust us, we’ve been as devastated as the rest of you. After all, we live for royal debauchery. (Hello, who could forget Prince Alexander’s naked billiard tourney?)

Unfortunately, our usual palace sources have all dried up, which can only mean one thing: Their Majesties are shelling out some major hush money. But fear not. Where there’s cash, there’s a story, and this one was worth tapping into our rainy day fund. #You’reWelcome

We hear The Princess Royal traded in her Sunday best for a pair of coveralls to get hot and heavy with her harem of suitors—on the paintball field. Why would she do that, you ask? Hell if we know. It sounds sweaty, dirty, and… You know what? We’re starting to see the appeal.

Sources inside the palace say it was a vicious game with ball shots, point blank eliminations, and more than a few curses that are so ridiculous they could only offend the aristocracy. (See: Gnashgabbing, loiter-sacking fopdoodle.)

Against all odds, The Princess Royal came out on top (the preferred position of every independent woman as far as we’re concerned), despite taking a brutal shot to the inner thigh. Oh, save your tears. We’re sure that at least one of the royal suitors would be happy to kiss it and make it better. Better yet, maybe two. Or four. #RH4Life #WhyChoose

But we digress. The real story of the day is far juicer than the prospect of HRH getting an Aussie kiss. We have it on good authority that HRH Prince Gabriel took out one high value game crasher with a well-placed gut shot. Who was the poor uninvited sod you ask?

Wait for it… His Majesty, King George.

No joke here, kids. We’re as serious as a shoe sale at Bergdorf.

Taking out the future in-laws is a pretty savage move, and there’s no doubt von der Recke’s stock went up as a result, but don’t be too hard on HRH Prince Gabriel. He was just trying to protect his true love, and who can blame him for that? The poor guy took a taser to the groin and all we can say is, the things we do for love…

19

Pippa smoothed her gown,contemplating one last hair and makeup check as she waited for Henry in the foyer of her hotel suite. There was a tiny mirror tucked in her clutch. She wouldn’t even need to return to the loo. She could just—

Get a grip. You’ve been to a million of these things.

As the guest of honor. Not as a fundraiser. Big difference.

It would be fine. Probably. Surely it couldn’t go any worse than her meeting with Lord Chamberlain, who still had yet to respond to her donation request. Not that she could blame him. Their meeting had been a complete disaster. If their roles were reversed, she’d probably be hesitant to make a large donation.

Which was why the VDRI fundraiser was so crucial. She needed a win. Even a small one.

It would be good for her ego and her fundraising efforts. When it came to charitable endeavors, the wealthy were always looking for an opportunity to show one other up. Once she had that first donation, it would be a stepping stone to others. She could drop a few names, a few financial figures, and boom. Instant income.

It would be getting that first donation that would be the hurdle.