King Sized
Madison Faye
King Sized
Royally Screwed: Book 1
Madison Faye
Contents
Free Books Offer
Author’s Note
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Goodies
Stealing Beauty
Doctor Babymaker
Dear Stepbrother, I Want You
Also by Madison Faye
Mailing List
About the Author
Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2018 Madison Faye
Cover: Coverlüv
Photography: James Critchley
Model: Charlie Garforth
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Author’s Note
This is a novella-length book of approximately 100 pages. I’ve included some extras in here as well, which may inflate the number of pages in your e-reader. So please be aware that this complete story of a book will end at ~30%.
Also, this book is exclusively available on Amazon.com. If you are purchasing this book from another platform, it is a pirated version! :(
Thanks so much for your support!
<3,
Madison
Blurb
You might say it’s poor form to throw the bride over your shoulder caveman-style and run off with her, especially if it’s not your wedding.
Whoops.
It’s her wedding day. I’m not the groom. Oh, but I’m going to be…
The world may call me a King and a gentleman, but there’s nothing gentle about me. I’ve fought like hell to get to where I am, and these rough hands want one thing and one thing only – to hold her and never let her go.
She’s my obsession – my addiction. Blonde, blue-eyed, innocent and tempting, with lips that beg to be tasted and curves that were made to press against me.
But a rival king – a cruel, evil piece of garbage – has stepped in to buy her hand and her innocence with the promise of paying off her parents’ debts. He thinks that makes her his, but he’s about to learn how wrong he is.
You see, the rumors about my royal staff and crown jewels aren’t tall tales. She deserves a real man. A better man. King Milton just isn’t the right fit for her.
…Oh, but I am. And I’m going to “fit” with her so well that she’ll be moaning for more. I’m a king, after all. And kings take what they want.
And tonight? I’m taking her.
I’ll do anything to make her my queen.
…Even if I have to steal her.
Grab those tiaras and hold on to your jewels! One totally obsessed, totally big alpha King, one smart, sassy, stolen bride, and enough insta-love, kindle-melting steam, and sugary-sweetness to knock you right out of your throne.
This book is utterly over-the-top fantasy with pretty much zero grounding in reality. You’ve been warned ;). As with all my books, this one is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Chapter 1
Hayden
Tonight was the night.
This was it. Months of waiting, months of biding my time. Months of my obsession, and of watching that obsession become betrothed to another man. A lesser man. Hell, not even a man, not by my standards, and sure as fuck not one that had any business being with a girl like her.
But that was all ending tonight.
Tonight, her wedding night. Only there wasn’t going to be a wedding — at least, not to him.
You might say it’s poor form to throw the bride over your shoulder caveman-style and run off with her, most especially if it's not your wedding. Possibly worse if the actual groom is a rival king. You might say all those things, and you might even be right. But then, King Milton Maneford shouldn’t have invited me, not when she was to be his bride.
Princess Callie Hearst, of Arbor.
My addiction. My compulsion. My obsession.
I suppose I’m not a man who should have had anything to do with her either. A king I might be, but there was nothing “gentlemanly” about me. My rough hands wanted one thing and one thing only, and that was to hold her and never let her go.
Princess Callie. My Callie.
I knew who she was before Milton announced, of course. I’d already had my eye on her for, well, longer than I had any business having eyes on her, I’ll say that. But Milton had swooped in to rain gifts and money on her slightly cash-strapped parents — the King and Queen of Arbor. He’d snatched her up, right before I could make my own move.
I’d hated him before. After that, I wanted to bury him for being anywhere near an angel like her.
Blonde, blue-eyed, and so soft and small. Petite, with hips that begged for my hands to hold them tight, or pin them to the bed. Legs that were made to wrap around my waist as I spread them wide. Lips designed to moan into mine as I showed her what a real man could do to her. Sweet, angelic, beautiful, and so fucking innocent.
Very innocent, actually. As in, never been touched. Not even by her shitty fiancé. Besides being a colossal douchebag, King Milton had a big mouth, especially when he drank. It was at a poker game a few months before when he’d put back too many martinis and bragged about how no man had ever laid a hand on his new bride.
The thought of him putting his greasy fucking paws on her made my skin crawl and my hands close to fists. But he hadn’t. “Not until the wedding,” as he’d slurred at that damn poker game.
Fuck she deserved so much better than him. She deserved to be a queen in every sense, not some trophy for an aging, slovenly piece of shit like Milton. And that sweet little rose between her thighs deserved to be plucked by a man who knew what he was doing — a man who’d make her feel things she’d never even fucking dreamed of.
A man like me. Not fucking Milton.
But like I said, that wasn’t going to happen. Not anymore. There wasn’t going to be a wedding, not after I stole his pretty young bride away for myself.
My cock ached at the thought of throwing her over my shoulder and running off with her. My balls tingled, cum boiling hot inside as I imagined carrying her off to my own castle, and claiming her myself — as my queen, and in my bed. My pulse hammered, standing there in the hallway outside her chambers. I knew she was in there, getting ready for a wedding she dreaded to a man didn’t want.
And I was going to take her away from all of it.
I put my hand on the doorknob to her chambers, and twisted. No more waiting. No more biding my time. No more not feeling her legs wrap around my hips and her moans drip through my ears.
Tonight, she’d be mine.
Chapter 2
Hayden
“Oh, Riley, you’re back.” She sighed, her back to me and her bare, unblemished shoulders slumping. She was dressed in white, a vision in snowy gauze and lace that left her shoulders bare and made my cock throb for her.
White, pristine, pure. The very picture of innocence.
…Not for long.
She sighed again, looking down at her phone as she started to turn.
“Hey, did you find that—”
She gasped, her whole face going white as her dress f
or a second as her eyes slid around to find me standing in the doorway to her chambers. The color quickly flushed into her cheeks, and her big blue eyes went wide as her jaw dropped in shock.
She knew who I was.
Most people knew who I was. It was hard to not know the six-foot-five king with the broad shoulders and the muscles to manage it, especially one with tattoos and scars, like me. See, I might have been lord of a realm, but I was the king who’d dragged himself through the mud and fire and rain to get to where he was. No bloodline had “given” my crown to me. I’d earned it through blood and sweat.
“You— Your Highness,” she whispered quickly, standing hastily and smoothing her dress down. She looked like she didn’t know what to do with her hands as she looked up at my huge frame towering over her. Fuck, it took everything I had not to wrap her up in my arms right there.
“Princess,” I growled, pushing the door closed behind me, my eyes locked on the beauty standing before me. We’d met once, at a ball for her eighteenth birthday in Arbor. I remembered holding her hand, and leaning down to kiss it — my lips lingering, wanting to taste so much more of her skin than just the back of her hand. I’d wanted to run my tongue over every inch of her. I’d wanted to tear her way from that stuffy dance celebrating her birthday, pull her into bed, and show her how a man could make a woman out of her.
Somehow, I’d restrained myself then. I would not be repeating that mistake.
I remembered the way she’d blushed, how her eyes had latched onto me back then, like they were now on her wedding day.
Oh, she remembered me. I could see the pulse in her neck, and the way her cheeks flushed and her fingers knit together. I growled lowly, seeing the way her nipples hardened under the sheer white gauze of her dress. My thick cock throbbed at the proximity of her, like just being in the same room with her drove the animal inside of me wild with lust.
“What—” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, her eyes blinking quickly. “Your Highness, what are you doing here?”
“You.”
“You can’t, I mean, you—” she stammered, swallowing thickly and biting on her lip as her eyes locked with mine.
Slowly, I moved towards her, loving the way her breath caught. I smiled wolfishly, my hungry eyes drinking her.
“I can do as I please, Princess.” I purred. “I’m a king.”
She swallowed again, her lip still caught between her teeth.
“So is my fiancé,” she whispered.
I grinned. “Are we the same though?”
She gasped quietly.
“You shouldn’t be—”
“Oh but I am here, Princess,” I growled. “And you know why I’m here.”
Callie whimpered quietly, her cheeks flushing even pinker, her eyes going a little wider, and those nipples hardening like little pebbles under her dress.
“You can’t see the bride before the wedding,” she whispered.
‘It’s not my wedding.”
“No, it’s mine.”
“Only if you go through with it,” I hissed.
“Who says I’m not going to go—”
“Me,” I growled, stepping right into her. Callie went red, trembling as the gasp tumbled from her lips.
“Your Highness!” she squeaked, pretty blue eyes wide as saucers. “I—”
She whimpered as my hands slid around her waist, closing around her back and pulling her right into me. I groaned, leaning down, and loving the way her breath caught as I let my lips stop just shy of brushing hers.
“I’m counting to three, Princess,” I said quietly, my pulse roaring, my skin on fire, and every thick inch of my big cock throbbing against the front of my tux.
“And on three, I’m taking what’s mine.”
Callie moaned quietly.
“If you don’t want that, tell me to go,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “But do it before three, because after that, I’m not stopping.” I groaned as my hands tightened on her sweet little body, feeling her pulse throb through her skin even through the dress.
“I’ll never stop when it comes to you.”
Callie’s eyes were wide as they locked with mine.
“One,” I growled.
“Your Highness!”
“Two.”
She whimpered, her eyes locked on mine, Fuck, I could see the fire roaring in those big baby blues. I could see the way her skin tingled with need, the way her body so subtly arched into me, like it was defying everything she was telling it not to do.
As I said, I’d held back before.
…That wasn’t going to happen again.
“Three.”
My arms tightened, I pulled her against me, and my lips crushed to hers.
…And the whole world tipped on its axis.
Chapter 3
Callie
The shiver trembled through me, every single nerve in my body sparking and sizzling at his nearness.
He’s so close.
Him. HIM. Right there, in the flesh, standing right in front of me like something out of a dream or a fantasy. Like, for instance, the forbidden one that’d been roaring through my head for months. The illicit, terrible, filthy fantasies that’d kept me up late into the night. Fantasies of the man I imagined whenever I had to close my eyes to escape the reality of who I was actually marrying.
But I was awake, this was no dream, and he was really standing right in front of me, with those piercing dark eyes blazing right into me.
King Hayden Anders.
Rough, gorgeous, a little scary, but in a way that sent shivers through my body and lit the fires in places I knew it shouldn’t. King Hayden was not like other royals or kings — certainly nothing like the one I was supposed to be marrying that day.
Kings come from bloodlines, but not him. Not Hayden. When his country was in the middle of a bloody civil war, he’d fought his way to the top, reuniting the country and single-handedly pushing the country into peace and prosperity by sheer iron will.
Of course, those stories were legend by now, and I’d heard them dozens of times. But then, those weren’t the only stories about King Hayden.
I felt my face heat furiously at the mere thought of those other stories — the ones princesses whispered to each other to make each other giggle and blush. Because it wasn’t the legends of King Hayden’s ability to rule, or of his not-so-royal beginnings that I and other younger princesses had shrieked to each other during sleepovers. It wasn’t his tattoos or his chiseled jaw, or his huge muscles, or the fact that he was gorgeous — though we certainly gossiped about that.
No, the legend of King Hayden that’d made me blush furiously the first time I’d heard it, and then given me some of my first filthy, dirty dreams, was the legend of what was between his legs.
…King Hayden was huge.
All. Over.
I felt my whole body tingle as my eyes dragged up his thick chest, and his broad shoulders, and that beautiful, chiseled jaw to his piercing dark eyes. He was just a large man, right? I mean, no one was actually that, you know, big, down there. Right?
What, like you’ve got any experience?
I bit my lip and clenched my fingers into a fist, digging my nails into my palm to try and wrench myself from the dirty thoughts running through my mind concerning the man standing before me, closing the door and shutting us alone together in my chambers.
On my wedding day.
I shivered, feeling my core tighten, and nipples harden to little beads under my thin, gauzy white dress.
There was no love in what I was about to do that day. Only duty, which was a bitter pill to swallow. I mean, King Milton was awful. He hadn’t touched me — thank God — but I knew what was coming soon. That very night actually. He’d spoken at length about how he was going to “make me a woman” after our wedding, and how he was going to “bed” me.
Gross.
Milton was pushing sixty years old, and he was sweaty, and crude, and disgusting. He had three mistresse
s that I already knew of, he smelled like fried food, and his breath was horrendous.
But, he was paying off my parents’ considerable debts, and for that, he’d demanded a prize in return.
Me.
My parents had been completely against the idea — my mother heatedly so. But I knew what had to be done, for the good of my family and for the Kingdom of Arbor.
Sacrifices had to be made, which is why I was marrying the grossest king in the world. Well, or at least I was supposed to.
But when King Hayden moved close, and sent my breath catching in my chest, and when his hands slid around my waist to pull me into him, sending my pulse racing, I wasn’t so sure that was going to be happening anymore.
I whimpered as my body fell into his, my palms falling to his chest as my heart jumped into my throat. I gasped, feeling the urgency in his grip and the heat in his eyes. And when his big, hard body pressed to my much smaller one, I felt the shiver of heat shudder through me, the desire pooling between my legs.
And then I felt it. I felt something huge throb against my belly, and I gasped.
…That couldn’t be real, could it? As real as it felt?
My head spun, and it felt like the heat of the room was pulsing through me as he pulled me close. One hand slid up the back of my white wedding dress, sliding up into the carefully piled curls and loops of blonde hair on top of my head and tangling in them. He tugged, just enough to make me whimper and make my heart race as he tilted my head back, his eyes blazing right into mine.
“I’m counting to three, Princess,” he growled, making me shiver. I could feel the thick bulge in his tuxedo throb against me, turning me into a puddle as I lost myself in his eyes.
