Prince With Benefits: A Billionaire Royal Romance by Nicole Snow Read Free Book Online Page B

I've taken a couple dozen girls underneath the mock waterfall and the marble benches. Just last week, I fucked a brunette with fake tits here, pressing her against the wall, stretching her hair so tight in my hand the water sprayed her in the face when my cock took her over the edge. She took it without complaining, all for me.
    Fuck. My dick wakes at the memory, pulses next to my belly button when I lather fine soap and water across every rock hard inch of me.
    They all love it, this body.
    The eagle tattoo crisscrossing my chest, wings spread wide, eyes set like a bird about to tear any lesser man's eyeballs out. The mad, dark stripes going up my arms, tapered like the royal flourish.
    I'm a living tapestry. Something the press has always screamed about when they've caught little flashes of my tattoos sticking out my collar, or coming out the cufflinks near my wrists.
    A million men would laugh all over the continent if I came out on the front pages shirtless.
    Their wives would get wet, guaranteed, imagining what this wild, royal, unforgiving body could do to them.
    And their nasty little fantasies about me – every last one of them – would be right.
    I've got nasty on the brain, too. I grab my cock, all ten inches, and start stroking it like a demon.
    It isn't that nameless brunette I fucked last week in this shower I'm thinking about. Isn't even the supermodel from Poland I sent home with a sore pussy several weeks further back, the one who's shared beds with half the billionaires and royals left in Europe.
    I'm thinking about the girl I'm going to pretend to love.
    Erin, Little Miss Warwick, with her soft American accent and hips begging to be wrapped around a good man's waist. Too bad for her there's nothing good about me.
    I'll fill her anyway, fuck her, take her in ways she's never seen with those sweet, innocent eyes.
    I want to corrupt her. Bad.
    Even more than I want to use her to get my personal bullshit off my back, once and for all.
    Christ, I'm a bastard.
    Doesn't stop me from leaning into the wall, grunting like a bull, when I finally bring myself off, thinking about how she'd convulse on every inch of me.
    I'm straining for precious breath by the end of it. Then I finish washing up, a sour frown pulling at my lips.
    “Fuck you for thinking this'll be easy,” I tell myself, staring into my own ripped reflection while I towel off.
    I'm sure she'll take the offer, when I find her weakness, and throw it in her face. They always say yes to me, every woman who isn't related by blood, or wearing a thousand year old crown on her head.
    No? That's a word I can't imagine.
    Erin's going to be the perfect cure for all my woes. If only I can go several months without sinking my dick into her, making things complicated.
    She'll either save me from the vultures who won't stop picking at me and the entire royal line, or else.
    Yeah...or else she'll ignite the biggest scandal the monarchy has ever seen.
    By the time I've got the towel wrapped around my waist and I step up to the huge mirrors to comb my hair, I'm smiling.
    Whatever else I am, I love a challenge. I love a high. I'm the richest, most famous adrenaline junkie in the world.
    Prince Hung is officially on the prowl, and he never comes home empty handed.
    This whole wicked situation promises excitement. Sexual, emotional, scandalous, glorious excitement.
    And that irresistible risk is the reason she's in my sights. I'm making Erin Warwick the hottest fake Princess the world's ever seen.

3
    Make Believe (Erin)
    I 'm downstairs in the lobby, waiting in line to check out. Dad's finally well enough to travel, and we're about to get the red eye flight home.
    It's going on midnight. Honestly, I can't wait to get the hell out of here, to leave behind this miserable, evil island that's shattered both our dreams and given us nothing but tragedy.
    “Checking out,” I say, stepping up to the counter.
    The man behind the computer nods politely, takes my card and info,