TWENTY SEVEN
BPOV
"You came," Jasper claps.
Tonight was Edward's unofficial birthday party. The party where very unroyal behaviour occurs. Jasper was behind it all, throwing it at his massive manor in the country. He'd turned the place into a makeshift nightclub.
Dancers walk through the crowd covered in feathers and glitter. Guests are packed tight chatting, sipping wine and dancing in a way that makes me avert my eyes.
"No royal shit tonight. You two feel free to misbehave. I enforced a no phone policy," Jasper says over the music.
Edward and I exchange glances, a mix of excitement and trepidation in our eyes. The pulsing music and flashing lights create an intoxicating atmosphere, far removed from the stuffy royal gatherings we're accustomed to.
"Come on, let's get you a drink," Jasper shouts, guiding us through the throng of bodies. We weave past a group of giggling women, their dresses sparkling under the strobing lights. The air is thick with perfume and sweat.
At the bar, Jasper orders a round of colourful shots. "To freedom!" he toasts, raising his glass. The liquid burns my throat, but I welcome the warmth spreading through my chest. Edward downs his with practiced ease, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Care to dance?" he asks, holding out his hand. My heart races as I nod.
Getting to grind my ass into my boyfriend brings me a sense of normalcy I never thought I'd experience again.
"Fuck," he growls in my ear.
I feel a thrill run through me at Edward's reaction. His hands grip my hips tighter as we move to the pulsing beat. The music seems to flow through us, erasing all thoughts of propriety and royal expectations.
Emboldened by the anonymity of the crowd and the alcohol coursing through my veins, I turn to face Edward. His eyes are dark with desire, a look I've rarely seen in public. I wind my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
"Is this what normal people do?" he shouts over the music.
"We're suppose to find a bathroom to have drunk sex in," I say into his ear, "that's the true experience."
Edward's eyebrows shoot up, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Well, we wouldn't want to miss out on the full experience, would we?" he says, his voice husky.
He grabs my hand, pulling me through the writhing crowd. We stumble past Jasper, who gives us a knowing wink. The hallway is quieter, the bass from the main room a distant thrum. Edward tries a few doors before finding an unlocked bathroom.
We tumble inside, giggling like teenagers. The small space is dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of perfume and cleaning products. Edward locks the door and turns to me, his eyes hungry.
"So, this is what the commoners do?" he says, pressing me back against the door.
I nod, breathless with anticipation. "Absolutely scandalous behaviour, Your Highness."
He pulls me into a searing kiss, pressing me back into the vanity. But I stop him.
"Hey now. You're the birthday boy," I turn us so he's the one pressed against the bench.
Dropping to my knees I unzip his pants.
"Fuck my mouth," I look up at him, "my dirty prince."
Edward's eyes widen, a mix of shock and desire flashing across his face. He's never seen me quite like this before – so brazen, so uninhibited. For a moment, I worry I've gone too far, but then his hands tangle in my hair, guiding me closer.
I take him into my mouth, relishing the weight of him on my tongue. Edward's head falls back with a groan, his fingers tightening in my hair. The music from the party pulses through the walls, providing a rhythm for our illicit encounter.
As I work him with my mouth and hands, Edward's hips begin to move. Slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. The normally composed prince is coming undone, and knowing I'm the cause sends a thrill through me.
"God, you're amazing," he grunts.
Pulling back, my hand continues to work so I can really torture him.
"Is that the best you've got? I asked you to fuck my mouth. Why are you being gentle? You want the true party boy experience. You have to treat me like your whore," my voice is hoarse, thick with need for him.
A primal hunger replaces his usually refined demeanour. Without warning, he grips my hair tighter and thrusts deep into my mouth. I gag slightly, but the look of pure ecstasy on his face spurs me on.
"Is this what you want?" he growls, setting a punishing pace.
I moan around him in response, the vibrations making him curse. The bathroom echoes with the obscene sounds of our encounter, barely masked by the thumping bass from the party.
Edward's movements become more erratic, his breathing ragged. "I'm close," he warns, tugging at my hair.
But I don't pull away. Instead, I take him deeper, urging him on with my eyes. With a strangled cry, Edward comes, his body shuddering against me.
I swallow him, before standing to wipe my face. My lipstick smeared down my chin.
"Happy birthday," I smile.
Edward pulls me into a fierce kiss, tasting himself on my lips. His hands roam my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Your turn," he growls, spinning me around and pressing me against the cool tile wall.
I gasp as he hikes up my dress, his fingers skimming along my thighs. "No underwear?" he chuckles darkly. "You really came prepared."
"I learn from the best," I quip, thinking of Jasper's 'no royal shit' mandate.
Edward's hardness find my centre, and I bite back a moan. "Let me hear you," he commands, his voice husky in my ear. "No one will know it's a future queen making such filthy sounds."
His words send a shiver down my spine, and I give in to the sensation. My cries of pleasure mingle with the muffled beats.
I spread my fingers out against the wall at his intrusion.
"Oh, you're tight," he groans, with a sharp smack to my ass.
I gasp at the sting, arching my back to press against him. Edward's cock works its magic, building a delicious tension within me. His other hand snakes around to my front, teasing my breasts through the thin fabric of my dress.
"Is this what you imagined when you suggested bathroom sex?" he purrs, nipping at my earlobe. "The crown prince fucking you in a dirty party bathroom?"
I can only whimper in response, lost in the sensations he's creating. Edward's movements become more insistent, driving me closer to the edge. The bass from the party seems to reverberate through my body, amplifying every touch.
"Give it to me harder," I moan.
Edward obliges, his hips snapping against me with renewed vigour. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes off the bathroom walls, mixing with our breathless moans. His fingers dig into my hips, surely leaving marks that I'll cherish tomorrow.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunts, his voice strained with effort. "Is this hard enough for you, my dirty little queen?"
The coarse language from his usually proper mouth sends a thrill through me. I push back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour.
"Yes, yes, don't stop," I pant, feeling the familiar tightening in my core.
Edward's hand moves to my leg lifting it up, his pace quickening. He completely drills me.
The new angle sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I cry out, not caring who might hear. Edward's fingers dig into my thigh as he holds my leg up, opening me wider for his relentless thrusts.
"That's it, let everyone hear how good I'm fucking you," he growls, his breath hot on my neck.
The tension builds rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter. Edward's other hand snakes around to rub tight circles on my clit, and that's all it takes to send me over the edge. I come with a scream, my body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash over me.
Edward follows soon after, burying himself deep inside me with a guttural moan. We stay like that for a moment, panting and trembling against each other.
Slowly, he lowers my leg and pulls out. I turn to face him smiling wickedly.
"I don't think think there's two people on this planet that are as good at this as we are," I say breathless, "it just gets better and better."
Edward chuckles, still catching his breath. "I think you might be right," he says, pulling me in for a tender kiss. The contrast between this gentle moment and our wild encounter moments ago makes my head spin.
We take a moment to straighten ourselves out, laughing as we try to make ourselves look presentable. Edward's hair is a mess, and my lipstick is beyond saving. We decide it adds to our "party look" and leave it be.
As we step out of the bathroom, we nearly collide with a group of giggling party-goers waiting their turn. They give us knowing looks and a few whistles as we pass. I feel my cheeks flush, but Edward just grins and pulls me closer.
We make our way back to the main room, the pulsing music enveloping us once more. Jasper spots us from across the dance floor and raises his glass with a wink.
It was fun. It was normal. It was front page news the next day.
EPOV
"Royal Romp: Prince Edward's Birthday Bash Exposed!"
The grainy photos beneath show Bella and I stumbling out of the bathroom, our disheveled appearance leaving little to the imagination.
My face is ashen as I scan the article. "How did this happen?" I mutter, running a hand through his hair. "Jasper said no phones were allowed."
Then I remember - the group waiting outside the bathroom. One of them must have snapped a quick photo, too tempting an opportunity to pass up.
"Your father is going to kill us," Bella whispers, my stomach churning with dread.
As if on cue, my phone buzzes. It's a message from the palace.
"I've been summoned," I sigh.
I squeeze Bella's hand reassuringly before heading to face the music. The palace halls feel longer and colder than usual as I make my way to my father's study. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the heavy wooden door.
"Enter," comes the stern voice from within.
I step inside, my father's disapproving gaze immediately boring into me. He's standing behind his desk, today's newspaper spread out before him.
"Explain yourself," he demands, his voice dangerously quiet.
I swallow hard, searching for the right words. "Father, I... We were just trying to have a normal night out. To celebrate my birthday like any other person my age might."
"You are not 'any other person,'" he snaps. "You are the future king. Your actions reflect on this entire family, on this entire nation!"
I lower myself into the chair, my heart pounding. For a long moment, silence reigns.
Finally, he speaks. "Do you have any idea of the damage you've done? I cannot have my heir running around with his dick out. You need to propose to her. Today. She needs to agree or you're done."
My blood runs cold at my father's words. Propose? Today? My mind races, trying to process this sudden ultimatum.
"Father, I... we're not ready for that," I stammer. "Bella and I are happy as we are. We don't need to rush into marriage just because of one indiscretion."
His eyes flash dangerously. "This isn't about what you want or what you're ready for. This is about damage control. The public needs to see a committed, responsible future king. Not some party boy who can't keep it in his pants."
I feel my temper rising. "So you want me to propose to save your crown? Regardless of how she feels? She isn't ready."
"Yet she's perfectly ready to play slut in a party bathroom," he shouts at me, "you lock down a date for the aisle or you break it off. That is a command, boy."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I clench my fists, struggling to maintain my composure. "Don't you dare speak about her that way," I seethe, my voice low and dangerous.
My father's eyes widen slightly, unused to such defiance from me. But I'm beyond caring about protocol or respect at this point.
"Bella is the best thing that's ever happened to me," I continue, rising to my feet. "She makes me want to be a better man, a better future king. And if you can't see that, then maybe I don't want your crown."
The room falls silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. My father's face cycles through shock, anger, and finally, a grudging respect.
His hand strikes me before I even register it moving toward me.
The sharp sting of the slap echoes through the room. I stagger back, more from shock than from the force of the blow. For a moment, we both freeze, the gravity of what just transpired hanging heavy in the air.
"You will not speak to me that way," my father growls, his voice low and dangerous. "I am your king."
I straighten, my cheek burning but my resolve hardening. "And I am your son," I reply, meeting his gaze steadily. "As well as a grown man capable of making my own decisions."
We stand there, locked in a battle of wills. I can see the conflict in my father's eyes - the anger warring with a reluctant pride at my defiance. Finally, he steps back, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"You leave me no choice, Edward," he says, his voice weary. "If you refuse to do this I will see that she is banished. I will not allow some trashy Disney whore to fuck with my crown. Everything I have protected for decades. She would be wise to accept your proposal this time otherwise her time here is over."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I feel the blood drain from my face as the full weight of his threat sinks in.
"You wouldn't," I whisper, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know he would. My father has always put the crown above all else, even family.
"Try me," he says, his voice cold and final.
I stand there, my mind racing. The thought of losing Bella is unbearable, but forcing her into marriage feels equally wrong. I think of her smile, her laughter, the way she challenges me to be better. I think of our wild night at the party, how free and alive I felt.
"Fine," I say at last, my voice barely audible. "I'll do it. I'll propose."
My father nods, satisfaction evident in his expression. "Good. See that it's done today. Have the palace draft the public statement to be published tomorrow morning."
I turn to leave.
"Oh and Edward. Fail to keep it in your pants in a public setting again and I'll ensure it's never used again," he threatens.
I nod stiffly, my jaw clenched tight as I leave my father's study. The hallway feels suffocating, the weight of what I must do pressing down on me. How can I ask Bella to marry me like this? Under threat and coercion?
My feet carry me to her chambers almost of their own accord. I pause outside her door, trying to compose myself. Taking a deep breath, I knock.
"Come in," Bella calls.
I enter to find her pacing nervously. She rushes to me as soon as she sees my face.
"Edward, what happened? Are you okay?" Her hands cup my face, her eyes full of concern.
I lean into her touch, savouring it. "Bella, we need to talk," I say softly.
Her face falls, fear creeping into her expression. "He's making you end it, isn't he?"
"Not quite," I shake my head, "it's… complicated."
I take Bella's hands in mine, leading her to sit on the edge of the bed. My heart is pounding, my mind racing as I try to find the right words.
"Bella, you know I love you more than anything in this world," I begin, my voice shaky. "You've brought light and joy into my life in ways I never thought possible."
She nods, her eyes wide with a mix of hope and trepidation. "I love you too, Edward. What's going on?"
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "My father... he's given me an ultimatum. He wants us to get married. We must be engaged by the end of today."
Bella's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Engaged? Or what?"
I swallow hard, knowing the next words will change everything. "Or... he'll have you banished. He says he won't allow you to remain here if we don't agree to marry."
Bella's face pales, her hands trembling in mine. "Banished?" she whispers. "He can't do that... can he?"
I nod grimly. "He's the king. He can do whatever he wants."
Silence falls between us as Bella processes this information. I watch the emotions play across her face - shock, anger, fear, and finally, a steely determination.
"So this is it?" she says softly. "Marry you or leave forever?"
"I'm so sorry, Bella," I murmur, pulling her close. "This isn't how I wanted to do this. You deserve so much better than an ultimatum."
She pulls back, her eyes hurt.
"No," she shakes her head, "I can't. I can't have that forced upon me."
My heart sinks at Bella's words, a cold dread settling in my stomach. "Bella, please," I plead, grasping for her hands. "I know this isn't ideal, but we can make it work. We love each other."
She pulls away, standing up and pacing the room. "Love isn't enough, Edward. Not for this." Her voice is tight with emotion. "I can't live my life knowing I was forced into marriage. That your father blackmailed us into it."
I feel panic rising in my chest. "But if you don't agree, you'll have to leave."
Bella stops pacing, turning to face me with tears in her eyes. "Maybe that's for the best," she says softly. "I don't belong in this world, Edward. I never have."
"Don't say that," I beg.
"We had a good run," she lets out a sob that I would do anything to take away. "But maybe this is the universe telling us it's time to face reality."
I stand, crossing the room to her in two quick strides. My hands cup her face, thumbs wiping away her tears. "Bella, please. You are my reality. My future. I can't imagine my life without you in it."
She leans into my touch, closing her eyes. "I can't imagine mine without you either," she whispers. "But I also can't imagine living under your father's thumb for the rest of my life. Always wondering if I'm good enough, if I'm 'royal' enough."
"You are more than enough," I insist, pressing my forehead to hers. "You're everything."
Bella takes a shuddering breath. "I need time to think, Edward."
Watching her turn to her closet and begin to pull clothes out, my heart is shattering.
"Baby I am begging you," I feel my hands shake, tears gather in my eyes, "don't do this."
Bella pauses, her hands trembling as she clutches a sweater. She turns to face me, her eyes swimming with tears.
"Edward, I..." she starts, her voice breaking. "I love you so much. But this... this isn't right. We shouldn't be forced into marriage like this."
I cross the room to her, gently taking the sweater from her hands and setting it aside. "I know it's not ideal," I say softly, cupping her face in my hands. "But think about it. We were heading this way anyway, weren't we? This is just... speeding things up a bit."
She leans into my touch, closing her eyes. "We were heading that way on our terms. I'm not going to be forced into marriage in the 21st century."
I feel my heart breaking as I watch the woman I love prepare to leave. My mind races, desperately searching for a solution.
"What if we ran away together?" I blurt out suddenly. "We could leave all of this behind. No crown, no responsibilities. Just you and me."
Bella freezes, her eyes wide with surprise. "I can't let you do that."
I nod without hesitation. "You're worth more to me than any throne."
She stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she shakes her head. "This is your birthright, your duty. I won't be the reason you abandon it."
"It's my choice," I insist, taking her hands in mine. "And I choose you. Always."
"So the whole world can try strangle me. You're not leaving," she points at me, "you'll move on. You'll find someone suitable."
"No," I say firmly, my grip on her hands tightening. "There is no one else for me, Bella. It's you or no one."
She looks at me, her eyes searching mine. "You can't mean that. Your country needs you."
"And I need you," I counter. "Without you, I'm not the man this country deserves as its leader. You make me better, Bella. You challenge me, you inspire me."
Bella bites her lip, confliction clear on her face. "But your father..."
"To hell with my father," I growl. "He doesn't get to dictate our lives like this."
"That's why I have to leave," she shakes her head, "I love you. I'm sorry. But I respect myself too much to let this happen."
My heart shatters as I watch Bella continue packing, her movements quick and decisive. The finality of her actions hits me like a physical blow.
"Can you have your assistant arrange me a car? A flight in economy to Arizona. I want my mother," she whispers sadly.
I stand there, frozen, as Bella's words sink in. The thought of her leaving, of never seeing her again, is unbearable. I can't let this happen. I won't.
"No," I say firmly, my voice stronger than I feel. "I won't arrange anything. I won't help you leave."
Bella looks up at me, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and pain. "Edward, please don't make this harder than it already is."
She rips her back up into her hands and begins to make her way toward the door.
"I'll do it myself," she snaps, the situation beginning to take a sour turn.
"Wait!" I call out, desperation clear in my voice. Bella pauses at the door, her hand on the knob. "Please, just... give me one day. 24 hours. Let me try to fix this."
She turns back to me, her expression softening slightly at the pleading look in my eyes. "Edward..."
"One day," I repeat, moving closer to her. "If I can't make this right in 24 hours, I'll personally escort you to the airport myself. I promise."
Bella hesitates, conflict clear on her face. Finally, she sighs, letting her bag slip from her shoulder. "Just let me go. I can't take any more. I've been called horrible names, people have wished for my death, people have threatened to sexually assault me, I've been attacked. When will it be enough? Let me go."
My heart breaks at her words, the weight of everything she's endured hitting me anew. I close the distance between us, gently taking her hands in mine.
"I'm so sorry, Bella. For everything you've been through because of me, because of this life. You're right - it's been too much, and you deserve better." I take a deep breath, steeling my resolve.
She looks at me. "Love shouldn't hurt."
Then she's gone.