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Royally His (The Triple Crown Club #4)
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Forbidden. Sinful. Scandalous. It’s a place where royal men come to share.
The dark, dangerous, gorgeous, and possessive “Mr. X.” runs the most exclusive club on the planet. A place out of fantasy, where the world’s royal and elite come to play out their most forbidden desires.
But for an untouched princess like me? Well, I’d have nothing to do with a place like that, or a man like Xander Hunt.
…Except, he’s about to have everything to do with me.
See, my father, King Aldo, is at a war of sorts with Mr. X. But you don’t go up against the most powerful, shadowy man in the royal world without consequences. And now, there’s a debt to be paid, and Mr. X is about to collect in full.
And he’s come for me.
I shouldn’t be this excited to be his prize. When his big strong hands pull me close, I should scream, not melt. And when his forbidden, perfect lips whisper all sorts of filthy, toe-curlingly wicked things into my ear, I should run, not beg for more.
Ever heard of the fairytale where the Princess runs off with the gorgeous and irresistible King of the shadow?
…Well, now you have.
Possessive, obsessed alpha? Check! Innocent untouched Princess? Also check! Crowns, thrones, tiaras, secret clubs and enough heat to leave you panting for more? I’ve got you covered ;).
As with all my books, this one is safe, with no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
*This book was previously released as a “secret” fourth book in The Triple Crown Club series, exclusively available in the Complete Series collection. This new, solo release includes an additional 30% of previously omitted material. While “book 4” of this series, this book can and is intended to be read as a standalone story.*
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The words flashed like neon across my mind as my eyes narrowed in on her across the dark and smoky room. Those words and one more: mine.
My strong jaw clenched, my steel-gray eyes flashing fire as I followed her like a hawk following its prey across the club. Muscles — muscles older than most of the younger pricks in this place, but muscles that were stronger and more honed than any of those boys’ — tightened and coiled, ready to pounce. Blood pulsed through me, my suit feeling tighter around my shoulders and my chest. My hand bearing the jewel and crested ring of the club — not the one I was in, but my club — tightened on my glass of scotch. The other hand clenched the silvered cane in an iron grip.
I didn’t need the cane — not to walk around or anything like that. I was forty, not ninety. But the cane sent a message. The cane, the finery I dressed in, the ring on my finger, the peppered silver at my temples, and the hard look in my eyes. It was all part of who I was, and what I represented. It reminded younger, rich, pompous royal shitbags like the ones milling about me trying to preen and show off who really held power in this royal world.
It wasn’t the man who wore a crown on his head. No, the real power in this room was me — the man who wore three crowns on the ring on his finger.
The club — my club, was exclusive. People thought of places like the classy bar I was currently sipping scotch in as exclusive. But a place like this had nothing on my club.
…The Triple Crown Club.
It was a place that existed in the space between fantasy and luxury. A place where men of royal blood could come to entertain their darkest desires. A place where three royal men would share one woman for the night. No names. No pictures. No hesitations. There were members in this very room, though they rarely knew each other outside of small circles. At the Triple Crown Club, they wore masks.
I did not. And even if the members currently in that very bar might not have known each other, they damn well knew who I was. Because when it came to the most exclusive club on the planet, I was King.
No, it hadn’t always been mine. After all, the Triple Crown Club had been around for generations. And it wouldn’t be mine forever, either. But for now, during my reign of that dark, mysterious kingdom, it was mine. Mine like the girl currently stealing every bit of my concentration and tempting me in ways she couldn’t even imagine was going to be mine.
The remainder of my drink went down my throat in one slow swallow, the scotch sending fire through me. I set the crystal glass down on the bar, gripped my cane tightly, and felt the fire blaze through me as my eyes locked on her.
Big, curious, innocent blue eyes. Soft chestnut hair falling to the middle of her back. The black, shimmering dress, plunging down the front and the back, giving me a tantalizing view of her young skin, her pert, succulent beasts, and the small of her back. The dress hugged her curvy hips — hips that practically begged for firm hands to set them in their place, much like that tight, curvy ass of hers begged for a firm spank.
Out at a place like this, dressed like that?
My pulse thundered, my jaw clenching as I made my approach. It was time someone reminded this pretty young thing of the sort of men who prowled this place.
…Men like me.
A drunken, pretty-boy prince stumbled into my path, and I growled as I shoved him out of my way. The little shit whirled, curling his lip and sneering at me.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going, old ma—”
His words dropped like bricks along with his jaw as his eyes caught the glimmer on my ring finger. The color drained from his face, as well as those of his friends behind him.
“Mr. X, sir,” he mumbled, tripping over his words as he swallowed thickly. “Sir, the lighting in here, I didn’t—”
“Manners, Prince Thomas,” I said thinly, my steely eyes narrowing at him.
“Of course, Mr. X, sir,” he stuttered out, nodding quickly and earnestly. “My most sincere apologies.”
I could have reamed him out. I could have knocked the smug, rich, arrogant Prince Thomas of Randall off his pampered pedestal in a number of ways. A temporary suspension from the club was socially crippling for the men who belonged to it. A lifetime excommunication was as good as being dethroned in the eyes of your peers. Wars had been fought, and countries absorbed when rulers were removed from my club. Because it wasn’t just the sex. It wasn’t just about being able to come and immerse yourself in the dark fantasy of sharing a beautiful woman with two other men. It was the prestige. It was the fact that it was the single most exclusive club in existence.