guiding it deeply inside – but only for a moment before he stops. That's a good thing, because I'm panting and my eyes are practically rolling back in my head. It's even worse when he turns the vibrator on, sending a low rumble through me that I can't exactly ignore.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, his hands spreading my ass cheeks.
"Always," I whisper. The lubricant is shockingly cold against my asshole, so much so that at first I flinch. Then he's pressing against me, pushing so slowly, taking his time by stopping to let me adjust to the sensation of him in me.
"Alexandra," he murmurs as he pushes deeper. The vibrator distracts me from a shock of pain, and then he's all the way inside my ass. "You are so fucking tight, I can't take it."
I whimper as he begins to move slowly, his hands on my hips for leverage, fucking me with slow, tiny strokes and asking me if I'm okay.
Am I okay?
I almost laugh at the question. I'm more than okay. I'm completely filled, my pussy squeezing the vibrator so hard that I think it's going to burst while Max fucks my ass. I'm bent over, completely under his control. He begins to fuck me harder and all of the pain gives way to pleasure.
Totally unbearable, overwhelming pleasure.
I'm moaning loudly and calling out his name, no longer having to worry about anyone hearing us. Max is saying dirty things over and over as he fucks me faster. "You like it like this, with me pounding your virgin asshole," he growls.
"Yes," I answer. Yes, over and over and over until I'm screaming it.
"I'm going to come inside you," he groans. "I'm going to fill this little ass up with my cum. Are you ready to come for me, Alexandra?"
When he slaps my ass hard, it sends me over the edge in a furious explosion. I scream his name as he thrusts inside me one final time, burying his cock in me up to the hilt. My orgasm is so intense, I think I'm crying as I come for what seems like forever.
I come and I come and I don't stop, even as he's pulling me up by the middle of the handcuffs, even as he's pulling out of me and asking if I'm okay.
Am I okay?
I laugh, my breath short and tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I'm okay," I say, laughing between gasps. "I'm okay, I'm okay."
"I love you," he whispers.
"I love … your cock," I whisper back.
He slaps my ass hard. "Say it right."
"I love you, Max."
"It's about fucking time, Alexandra."
ONE YEAR LATER
"Get your ass over here, little girl," I growl at my woman standing at the bottom of the staircase in the entry of our Protrovian countryside home.
I'll never get tired of thinking of this place that way – even if it's less of a home and more an estate – just like I'll never get tired of thinking of her as my wife.
Alexandra is wearing that dress – the scandalous one, the one made of threads and sequins and nothing else. The one I completely destroyed that night after the club, that I tore off her body and left in pieces on the floor of her bedroom.
The thought makes my cock stir immediately.
Hell, the sight of her makes my cock stir every day. And now she's mine. She's been mine for a year now – and she doesn't know it yet, but I'm about to make her mine forever.
"I'm not a little girl, Max," she huffs, her hand going to her hip in mock annoyance.
"Woman," I correct.
"I like the way it sounds when you call me that," she says. Her lips curve up in a seductive little smile and I cross the floor between us, my hand going immediately to the small of her back and pulling her against me.
"My woman," I whisper. "Mine."
"I like the way that sounds, too," she says, giggling as I slide my hands over her ass and across to her abdomen and over her breasts. Hell, I just want my hands all over this girl all the time. "Stop! You're going to ruin this dress again! I had to have the designer remake this! Don't you know how much it cost??"
"An obscene amount of money," I say, leering at her.
"Maxwell Donnelley, don't you dare tear this dress off of me again!" she squeals, turning her back and running. I chase her into the bedroom where she collapses back onto the bed, laughing as I climb up beside her.
She's still laughing as I pull her onto her side to face me, and she's giggling as I kiss her. When I pause for a second, her hand goes to my chest. "What's wrong?" she asks.
"Nothing at all," I tell her, shaking my head. "Sometimes I just have to stop and take a breath because I can't believe you're mine."
That's the damned truth, and for so many reasons. I can't believe a girl like her even settled down at all, and with a guy like me. That day at my house in Kentucky, the day she showed up to get me, was the end of all of the running. From that day on, she's been mine.
But then, truth be told, she was mine from the very first day I saw her.
She'll be mine until the day I die.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out the ring. "I was saving this for later," I tell her. "I had a whole big speech and I was going to get down on one knee and everything but –"
"Yes!" she squeals ,and the ring bounces onto the bed, but she doesn't care because she's too busy laughing and pressing her lips against mine. "Of course. Yes, yes, yes!"
"You didn't let me finish," I tell her, taking a deep breath as she gives me her ultra-focused expression, even though I can tell what she really wants to do is slip the ring right onto her finger herself.
"Okay, okay. Go on."
"Princess Alexandra, you have been the biggest pain in my fucking ass since the day I met you. I mean, it was pretty obvious how much you lusted after me from the very first day we met, and you could hardly contain yourself in the presence of such masculine alpha male power –"
She pushes me on the chest. "Your romance is overwhelming," she says. "Just give me the damned ring already."
"Words I never thought I'd hear coming out of the mouth of the woman who used to hate the very idea of a relationship, let alone marriage."
"Well, that woman reconsidered."
I slip the ring onto her finger. Now I'm serious. "I love you," I confess. "I love every little part of you, and I'd be honored if you would be mine forever."
"Don't make me tear up," she whispers, fanning her face with her hand. "Oh, God. I'm tearing up already. Crap, these hormones are making me soft. Shit, I was going to save this for later too, but I can't."
I think my heart stops beating. "You're pregnant?"
She nods. "I'm pregnant. I took the test the other day, but I didn't want to tell you until I was sure. The doctor confirmed it for me this morning."
"You're pregnant," I whisper.
"You're … good with that, right?" she asks, her voice suddenly tentative.
I put my hand on her abdomen. Mine. My baby is inside of her.
"You know it's like the size of a pea or something," she says, laughing. "You can't feel it kicking."
"Shh, woman," I say, about to burst with joy. "That's my baby in there."
"You're happy?" she asks.
Am I happy?
I'm so fucking happy I could explode. This past year with Alexandra has been the happiest year of my life.
We spent a few weeks in Kentucky after she showed up on my parents' doorstep. My mother obviously loved her immediately and had to take Alexandra down to her ladies' group to show her off within a day of her being in town. So much for keeping a low profile.
Alexandra became a South Hollow legend, even more so after South Hollow and the capital of Protrovia became sister cities and Princess Alexandra became the official face of tourism for the state of Kentucky. She marveled at the awesomeness of fried everything at the state fair, and taught my father how to hit a target with a knife from ten feet away.
Over the past y
ear, we've split our time between Protrovia and Kentucky, flying back and forth. Albie and Belle's wedding will be the first time my parents have made it to Protrovia. When they get here, we'll be able to give them our good news as well.
The best news of all is that I am obscenely happy with Alexandra.
Every damn day.
* * *
"To the happy couple." My father toasts my brother and his new bride at the wedding reception. They are genuinely happy. I've never seen Albie as content as Belle makes him.
Ironically, as miserable of a person as I thought Sofia was, she's also come around. I'm not sure what it was exactly that caused the change, but I think that seeing how happy Albie made her daughter shifted something for her. She's the one, as it turned out, who explained to my father just how good Max was for me.
As fraught with conflict as our relationship was in the beginning, my relationship with Sofia has become something entirely different – something good. She wasn't as stuck-up and political as I thought she was. She has a sense of humor (albeit one she keeps largely tucked away) and I learned that she's a rock-climbing aficionado. So we had something in common, sort of; I'd never climbed a mountain, but I'd rappelled down the palace wall enough times that it turned out I was pretty good at climbing.
My father and I are good, too. He admitted that he'd held onto a different standard for my behavior than for my brother's, and that he'd been disappointed in me for years. But he explained that the disappointment stemmed from how much of my mother he saw in me (not the running around and partying parts), and how much it made him miss her.
Max's mother leans over and takes my hand, squeezing it. "Drink some Ginger Ale," she advises. "It'll help."
"How did you know, Betty?" I whisper. "I only just told Albie. We were going to tell you after the reception."
"You've been turning green just looking at this fantastic meal," she says, pausing. "Also, Max told me earlier."
I shoot a look at Max, who's sitting on the other side of me. He gives me a "what did I do?" gesture.
"I thought we were going to wait," I scold him, but only playfully because I'm too giddy-happy about it anyway.
"I'm going to be a grandma!" Betty exclaims, her voice slightly too loud. She claps her hand over her mouth.
"Dad, cut Mom off," Max says, shaking his head. "No more champagne for you!"
"Shut your mouth, Maxwell," she replies. "My son is going to marry a princess."
Max's father snorts loudly. "Words you never thought you'd hear your wife say."
Then Max snorts. "Every word that comes out of Alexandra's mouth fits in that category."
I slap him playfully on the arm and stick out my tongue. "You love every word of it."
He takes my hand in his and squeezes it. "Every damn day."
My heart swells, and that's not just because of the hormones. I'm in love with this man, more and more every day I spend with him. I'm heels over head – or head over heels – in love, and I always will be.
* * *
I hope you enjoyed Her Bodyguard! Don’t forget to signup for my newsletter (newsletter signup is linked in the “Also By Sabrina Paige” section at the end of the book) to get the special epilogue I’ll be sending out soon that checks in with Max, Alex, Albie, and Belle (and all of their kids) eight years in the future!
I’ve also included an extra epilogue to Prince Albert at the end of that book, so make sure to check that out as well!
Prince Albert is a royal prick.
He’s the most famous one on the planet, too – wealthy, gorgeous, and a notorious playboy. He’s also the most conceited, insufferable, arrogant man I’ve ever met.
Did I mention he’s a freaking prince? An actual, real life Prince Not-So-Charming.
He’s tattooed and pierced, too. Prince Albert has a Prince Albert piercing. That's right – he's pierced you-know-where. Allegedly. I’ve never seen it.
My mother is marrying a king. Being a princess is every girl’s fantasy, right?
Except that means Albie is my new stepbrother.
Oh, and one more thing -- I accidentally married him.
We’re keeping the biggest secret on the planet.
Ever heard the fairy tale about the Princess and her stepbrother?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.