CHAPTER FIVE #2
Maximus did not care what they did when they got there.
He would do whatever depraved thing she wanted—anything to show his father he could not control him.
Augustus was treating him like nothing more than an animal, something to be paraded around before being auctioned off and slaughtered.
His father had made no secret of his disapproval of Lilibet.
But that did not mean he was entitled to choose Maximus’s wife for him now.
If Maximus was going to go through this process, he was going to do it his way.
He knew it was wrong to take advantage of his position of power—to give Veronica false hope that anything they did tonight would increase her chances in the competition.
But this was normal for him. And it was normal for her.
Sex was a currency the women in the competition would spend freely.
Everyone in the running for his hand would be falling at his feet in the upcoming weeks. And Maximus might just let them.
The moment they reached the pantry, Veronica dropped to her knees.
Maximus barely had time to close the door before her hands were on him, undoing his trousers and pulling them down to expose his cock.
He wasn’t hard yet, but Veronica wasn’t one to be easily deterred.
She took only the head into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sucking until he was rigid between her lips.
Then she took him all the way down her throat, alternating between fast and slow, licking and sucking.
Maximus had to admit it was some of her best work.
Clearly she’d been practicing. If he cared about her at all, he would have been jealous.
Instead, he reaped the benefits of her experience, arching his neck as she took him deeper and deeper.
She was using her hands now, encircling his cock at the base as she pleasured only his head.
It was almost too much; he was close to coming.
But if he finished now, he’d have to go back to the ballroom, and he had no desire to do that just yet.
So he leaned down, threading his fingers into her elaborate updo and holding her in place.
“Stay still,” he commanded. “Hands behind your back.”
Veronica obeyed, clasping her hands behind her back and falling still.
Then Maximus began to thrust. He did so slowly, at a pace he could control, watching his cock disappear into her mouth before reappearing again.
She was looking at him, but he wasn’t looking at her.
Instead he thought of other things: the events of the evening, the wine he had yet to drink, the glare of his father as he walked away from Constance and toward Veronica.
Eventually Maximus ceded control once more, leaning back and releasing Veronica’s hair. She leaned forward, taking him all the way down her throat, returning to her previous rhythm with increased enthusiasm. Her palm was just about to squeeze his balls when the door flew open.
Another contestant for his hand entered, stopping the moment she realized who was inside. Her eyes traveled first over Maximus and then over Veronica, who remained kneeling before of him.
“Oh, I’m—uh—I—”
Her eyes widened, a blush rising on her freckled cheeks.
“Unless you’re here to join us, I think you’d better shut the door,” said Maximus dryly.
His cock was still down Veronica’s throat. She hadn’t even stopped sucking it. If he recalled correctly, she wasn’t one to be bothered by an audience.
“Right,” the girl said. “Of course, that’s…right. Yes. Sorry.”
She snapped the door shut.
Shame. She had been rather beautiful. It wouldn’t have been the first time Maximus had had two women on their knees before him.
As it was, he was barely interested in the one currently there.
He turned his attention back to Veronica, trying to concentrate on what she was doing.
Little did she know that this actually lowered his opinion of her.
Lilibet would never have been so desperate.
He did not want his future wife to be either.
Any girl worth his time would make him wait for it.
Veronica was not worth his time, but she was worth his cock.
So Maximus allowed her to coax an orgasm from him with nothing but her tongue.
She was making quite a bit of noise; it was obvious this was supposed to turn him on even more.
But for some reason, the only thing he thought about when he came was the girl he’d just seen.
He saw her wide eyes, her freckled cheeks.
He imagined those cheeks hollowed out around his cock instead of Veronica’s.
The thought alone was enough to get him there.
As soon as he was done, Veronica stood. Maximus refastened his trousers, ignoring the way she was watching him as if she expected some kind of reward for her services. Before he left he gave her a parting order: “Stay here. Touch yourself. Do not rejoin the party until you’ve come.”
Then he left.
Maximus had never commanded someone like that before.
Somehow he knew Veronica would obey. And it was that thought—the thought of her doing as she was told—that turned him on far more than the blow job had.
The head had barely done anything to dissuade his agitation; control was the only thing that made him feel powerful.
Maximus sought solace in alcohol yet found none.
The ballroom swam; the guests chittered.
It was all endless noise to him. He found himself on the edge of the ballroom, a glass of red wine clutched in his hand, his back against the wall.
He was perfectly positioned to catch a draft from the hallway, savoring the way it cooled his face.
All it would take was a single step and he would be free.
Without thinking, he turned on his heel and set off down the hallway, making his way up the stairs and into Lilly’s nursery. Immediately, he stopped short.
The woman who’d just walked in on him in the pantry was holding his child.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Maximus cried.
His eyes were on Lilly, and they remained there as he crossed to his daughter and wrenched her from the woman’s arms. She awoke immediately, burrowing against his chest with a wail.
“I’m—I’m Daphne,” she stuttered, raising her hands in surrender.
“I don’t care who you are. I care that you are in my daughter’s nursery.”
“Please—I heard her crying, and I just thought I would—”
“You thought you would what? Pick up my child without my permission?”
“I’m sorry—she was alone—I just wanted to—”
“She has a dozen nannies. And her own father just downstairs. You could have called anyone.”
“I didn’t think to—”
“You didn’t think at all.”
Daphne didn’t reply. In the chaos, Lilly was only crying louder.
Maximus turned his attention to her. “Shhhh.” He pressed his lips to her head, bouncing her gently as he patted her on the back. “Quiet, my darling. All is well.”
The baby warbled in his arms, her tiny fists grabbing at his velvet lapels. Maximus soothed her with coos and kisses until she finally quieted, her little cheeks pink with exertion.
Daphne turned to leave.
“Wait,” Maximus said sharply. “I’m not done with you.”
Daphne froze. He understood that she probably felt uncomfortable or even scared.
She’d just seen him getting his cock sucked in the pantry, after all, and now she’d been caught with his child.
Maximus was tempted to punish her for this, but another desire reared its head instead.
He thought of picturing her face right before climax.
He had her here, and he intended to keep her.
“Well?” he snapped in a whisper, trying not to wake Lilly again. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Daphne had already apologized, but she did so again. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, clasping her hands behind her back in what was clearly intended to be a nonconfrontational position. “You’re right, I should have called someone. But I meant no harm. She’s…she’s beautiful.”
Maximus softened imperceptibly at the compliment. He looked down at his child, who was fast sleep. “That she is,” he said quietly. Then his disposition hardened once more. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs, competing for my hand?”
“Your hand is rather hard to compete for when it’s up here holding a baby.”
A tense silence fell. Daphne had clearly meant it as a joke, but Maximus realized suddenly that what she’d said was true.
He was holding the baby he’d had with another woman.
How could any of the women downstairs compete with the mother of his child?
Before he could respond, Daphne put his own question back on him:
“Shouldn’t you be downstairs?”
He snorted. “Downstairs is the last place I want to be.”
“Why?”
“Because this entire evening is a charade and a despicable one.”
Daphne blinked in surprise. Maximus was quite sure she hadn’t expected him to say that.
“How is it a charade?”
“The entire competition is nothing but an act.”
“But it’s…tradition,” she said.
Maximus scoffed. He had no interest in tradition. Tradition was quickly becoming the bane of his existence. “My father wants me to marry Constance. Knowing him, he will get his way.”
“Constance is…a nice girl.”
He scoffed again. Unless he could choose her himself, it did not matter how nice she was.
“I thought all you royals enjoyed this sort of thing,” Daphne continued tentatively. Her eyes alternated between watching him and watching Lilly, who was fast asleep against his chest.
“Most royals do.”
“Aren’t you like most royals?”